Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/124738.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Percy_Weasley, Cedric_Diggory/Percy_Weasley
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Percy_Weasley, Cedric_Diggory
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Smut, Dirty_Talk, Masturbation, First_Time, Drama, Community:
      percy_ficathon
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-09-17 Words: 7675
****** Once Upon a Time ******
by Celandine
Summary
     Harry persuades Percy to tell him about the first bloke Percy loved.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
i. Prelude
Boxing Day, they decided, would be a day for the two of them. Between the
whisky and the fire and the relief at having survived the hubbub of another
Christmas at the Weasleys', Harry was feeling relaxed, almost playful, when he
asked Percy, "Who was your first love? I promise I won't go all jealous on you
or anything, I'm just curious; want to hear you tell me about it."
Percy's arm tightened around Harry's shoulders. "It was so long ago..." He took
another deep gulp of his whisky.
"It can't have been so very long, unless you fell in love when you were three.
You're not that much older than I am," Harry pointed out. He took Percy's right
hand and brought it to his mouth, using his tongue to trace across the lifeline
on Percy's palm. "Come on, tell me about your first time. I'll make it worth
your while," he added persuasively, with another lick that caused Percy to
shiver against him despite the warmth of the room.
"Cedric Diggory," said Percy. "It was Cedric."
Harry twisted around so that he could look at Percy's face. "Really? I had a
terrible crush on him in my fourth year, when we were both in the Triwizard
Tournament. I thought he was straight, though; I had no idea that the two of
you were ever together."
"Oh, yes." There was a softness around Percy's eyes as he gazed into the fire.
"Not many wizarding families around Ottery St. Catchpole, you know, so Cedric
came over quite often. He was closer to the twins' age than mine, but he had a
lot of spirit, and he wasn't so much into the practical joking and rough-and-
tumble sorts of things that they always liked, so he played with me quite a bit
when we were little, and even as we grew older." He shrugged. "It was
flattering, actually. Fred and George were always so self-sufficient with each
other, but Cedric always seemed to look up to me."
"So, what happened?" asked Harry. He stroked Percy's thigh with one hand and
raised his drink to his lips with the other, then set the glass aside.
"He was the one who kissed me first," said Percy, bending to put a swift kiss
on Harry's forehead. "The summer I was sixteen, so he would've been fifteen, I
suppose."
"And? Come on, Perce, details. You're not going to tell me that you don't
remember the details."
"What, you want to hear about every bit of snogging and groping we ever did?"
Percy laughed, but it sounded forced.
"No, just the highlights. What did the two of you do? You know I never had a
chance to do much fooling around during school, always too busy with the whole
Boy Who Lived thing." Even after so long, Harry still felt a trickle of
resentment at the way those years had been stolen from him. "Did you just snog?
Hand jobs, blow jobs, more?"
Percy bit his lip. "More," he said. "But only once. We were going to, at the
Quidditch World Cup..."
"You're kidding," interrupted Harry. "At the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Mm-hm," said Percy, nodding. "In the woods, you know?"
"So, tell me what happened." Harry tucked his head under Percy's chin, feeling
the rise and fall of Percy's chest against him as Percy began to tell the
story.
===============================================================================

ii. Into the Woods
Percy spent quite some time considering whether he should take the Portkey with
the rest of his family, or Apparate. He had been making a point of Apparating
everywhere he could, now that he was licensed to do so, but if he took the
Portkey he would see Cedric sooner. Then again, was that really a good idea?
The other boy was still in school; was it fair to either of them to carry on
with this... with whatever it was between them, when they wouldn't be able to
see each other again any time soon, not until the Christmas holidays? Percy
smiled to himself. Perhaps not quite that long, for if he were lucky Mr. Crouch
might have him carry out some of the duties associated with the Triwizard
Tournament. But he couldn't tell Cedric that. In the end he decided to
Apparate. It seemed more casual, more as if he weren't depending on seeing
Cedric.
When he reached the campsite, he was glad to discover that his decision had
meant that he would not help have to assist in putting up the tents. His father
loved that sort of thing but was hopeless at it; Percy suspected that Harry and
Hermione must have helped out a good deal with the process. There was plenty of
time to have a cup of tea before the game started, though. After he had drunk
one, Percy wandered about the campsite for a short time, shaking his head over
the muddled way that the hundreds of tents were scattered about with no attempt
at order.
"Percy." Cedric was sitting with his father outside one of the smaller tents.
Percy hadn't especially been trying to find the Diggorys, he told himself, but
he found that he heard Cedric's voice above all the buzz of activity, and his
breath came short. He turned quickly.
"Hello, Cedric. Hello, Mr. Diggory," Percy greeted them.
Cedric caught Percy's eye and gave him a hint of a smile. Percy firmly willed
himself not to blush.
"Good to see you, son," said Amos Diggory. "I understand that you've taken up a
position with the Ministry?"
"Yes," said Percy with pride. "I'm assistant to Mr. Crouch in the Department of
International Magical Cooperation."
Mr. Diggory nodded. "A good position to begin with, very good. I hope Cedric
will do as well. Congratulations to you."
"Thank you, sir."
"Want to meet up when the match is over?" asked Cedric.
Percy hesitated. He did want to... perhaps too much. It would be easy to give
themselves away, here, but there was really no way that he could say no, not
with Cedric's eyes fixed on him like that. "Of course," he said, as
enthusiastically as he could to make up for the pause. "Come by my family's
tent? Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, we saw it." Cedric smiled a happy smile that made Percy's heart turn over
despite himself. "I'll see you afterward then." The smile widened. "Especially
if Ireland wins, eh?"
"Of course," Percy assented. "Enjoy the game, Mr. Diggory."
As he turned away he could hear Mr. Diggory and Cedric beginning to discuss the
relative merits of the Bulgarian and Irish teams. Percy had never been terribly
keen on Quidditch, but years of sharing a room with Oliver Wood, who seemed
able to think of little else, had taught Percy more than he had ever hoped to
know about the finer points of the game. His brothers had given up on him years
before, but Oliver didn't care if Percy was interested or not – he kept
talking, regardless.
The match was exciting, Percy had to admit that, and he was certainly pleased
when Ireland won. He found his reaction to the Veela interesting; he certainly
didn't behave like Ron, who seemed practically ready to jump over the railing
to get at the creatures, but he was strangely attracted nonetheless. It was
nothing like what he had felt for Penny. That had been mostly just friendship,
he had eventually realized, enhanced by a lust that derived more from the fact
that he was an adolescent boy than from any genuine attraction to Penny
herself. He rather wished that he had realized sooner that he hadn't been
messing about with Cedric because Cedric was there and seemed keen to do it,
but because it really was blokes he fancied in general, and Cedric in
particular. Oh, well. Penny hadn't seemed too unhappy when they had agreed to
break it off. She was excited, anticipating her apprenticeship at St. Mungo's,
and Percy had been relieved not to have to explain everything to her.
During the madness that followed Ireland's win, it wasn't difficult for Cedric
to come up beside Percy as the Weasleys returned to their campsite.
"I've been thinking we should have a private celebration of our own," he said
in Percy's ear, not quietly, but the noise around them was so great that no one
else could possibly have heard. "You know what I mean?"
Percy struggled not to let the shock and surprise he felt at Cedric's
suggestion show on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked Cedric in an undertone.
Cedric nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Everyone's going to be celebrating tonight;
no one'll notice if we're gone." Then he flushed. "I brought what we'll need;
bought it at a Muggle shop a couple of weeks ago, but there never seemed to be
a good chance, back home, since I did."
If Percy had needed persuading that Cedric was serious, that would have
convinced him. "Straight north of my family's tents, at the edge of the woods,
there's a big oak tree, with a great gash across the bark near the base. Meet
me there in an hour?"
"All right." Cedric slipped away.
Despite the commotion, Percy's father insisted that they all go to bed after a
mug of hot chocolate.
"I promised Cedric I'd meet him for a few minutes," Percy said, drawing his
father aside to speak privately. "Please." He wanted to add, "We might not get
a chance to see each other again until the holidays, now that I'm no longer in
school," but thought he had better not.
Arthur nodded resignedly. "Since you promised. Not for long, mind."
With a silent sigh of relief that the twins were sufficiently preoccupied not
to notice and draw attention to his departure, Percy eased his way out of the
tent, walking towards the forest. He was careful not to move too quickly, lest
he draw attention to himself from the crowd still awake and celebrating, though
he would have liked to run.
By the time he reached the designated oak tree, Cedric was already there, and
when he saw Percy a smile lit his face, making a joke of his words: "I'd
started to think maybe you weren't coming."
Percy snorted. "You can't believe I'd turn you down." He glanced around. "Let's
move a bit further in; there's too many people around."
They went a few dozen yards further into the forest. From here they could still
hear the noise of the crowd, but the light from the fires was dim, just enough
so that they wouldn't run into a tree or trip over a rock. Percy reached out to
Cedric only to find him already there, pressing close and turning his face up.
He was almost as tall as Percy, these days, and more strongly built. His prick
was hard against Percy's thigh as they kissed. Cedric's tongue darted into
Percy's mouth, swift and sly as a fairy at twilight, and he tasted of
Butterbeer and sausages and the smoke of the bonfires. Percy's cock was rigid
inside his pants. He let go of Cedric with one hand and fumbled to undo his
robes.
"No, don't," he said when Cedric reached to touch him.
"Why not?" Cedric's voice was husky. "Oh. But we've plenty of time, we could do
it more than once."
A little embarrassed that Cedric had realized how very excited he was, Percy
nevertheless agreed, despite his father's admonition. If it had been his mother
back in the tent, that would have been a different matter. But his father would
only look at him in disappointment, and Percy was not afraid of that look any
more.
"We could, um, you know... suck each other first?" He loved sucking Cedric,
loved the way that Cedric squirmed and moaned and the way that he tasted, fresh
and bitter like the greens his mother always made them eat in the spring.
"Yeah, that would be good." Cedric pulled out his wand. "The ground here's
rough; shall I transfigure a few of these rocks into cushions?"
"Yes, do. I'll do a few, too," said Percy.
When half a dozen large pillows lay before them, just barely visible in the dim
and flickering light, Percy stretched out on them, pulling Cedric down as well.
"You first," said Cedric firmly. He pushed Percy's robes out of the way and
tugged off his pants, wriggling down so that his lips hovered above Percy's
cock. At first he simply ran his tongue up and down the shaft, wetting it, but
before Percy could beg him not to tease his lips had parted and he was sucking
Percy in, his head bobbing up and down and his fingers brushing against Percy's
bollocks.
"Oh yeah. Oh yeah, Cedric." Percy touched Cedric's thick hair gently. When
Cedric's teeth grazed him he gave a moan, not because it hurt but because the
flicker of pain only enhanced the overall pleasure.
Cedric didn't like the taste of semen very much, Percy knew, and moreover he
had a hard time keeping his teeth out of the way at that moment, so when Percy
felt his balls tightening he gasped out, "Almost there," and reached for his
prick as Cedric raised his head. A couple of hard strokes with Cedric's hand
under his and Percy was coming, thick white streaks decorating his stomach, the
smell of it musky and sharp.
Without bothering to clean himself up yet, Percy said, "Now you," and Cedric
smiled and kissed him before rolling over onto his back.
His cock was hard, a little fluid already leaking from the tip when Percy bent
to it, his fingers brushing over the sparse hair around the base before he
wrapped firmly and began to stroke. Sometime, he hoped, he would be able to
take all of Cedric's prick into his mouth, let the other boy fuck his throat,
but he still had trouble relaxing enough to do that, for all that he had been
practising all summer with courgettes from his mother's vegetable garden.
Instead he concentrated on the head, running his tongue along the edge of the
crown, dipping into the slit, using his fingers to rub the base. Cedric was
panting, murmuring, "Oh Percy, oh yeah, oh yeah," over and over, interspersed
with groans whenever Percy sucked harder. Quite soon he gasped and shuddered,
his hips jerking as he shot into Percy's mouth. Percy swallowed, running his
tongue along the length of Cedric's cock to make sure he'd caught every drop.
To know that Cedric trusted him, admired him enough to give him this gift of
himself made Percy feel warm all over.
Sitting up, he reached for his wand and cast Tergeo on them both; it might be a
bit before they were ready for another round – although his prick was already
half hard again at the thought that he'd be inside Cedric's arse – and Percy
didn't enjoy feeling all sticky for long.
"That was great." Cedric squeezed Percy's hand. "But I bet it'll be even
greater when you fuck me."
"I hope so. I'll be careful, you know, but you have to tell me if it hurts."
Percy had never done this before either, although he certainly knew the general
principles involved. He had found Bill and Charlie's stash of magazines and
books several years earlier, and discovered that they found a wide variety of
activities to be interesting. Mostly ones to do with buxom witches, but there
were some mags that included wizard-on-wizard action as well. He had never
asked either one of his brothers if they had ever gotten off with other blokes,
but he suspected there might have been the occasional experiment, and that made
him a bit less uncomfortable with his own preferences.
"I will," promised Cedric. "It shouldn't though. I, um, I've practised a little
bit. With the lube, you know?"
"That's probably good," said Percy, slightly surprised. He had never done much
of that sort of thing himself, but then, he had never wanted someone else to
fuck him. Perhaps someday he'd let Cedric do it. If Cedric wanted to; he'd
never asked, only offered his own arse to Percy.
They talked for a little while, then, about everything from the Quidditch World
Cup to the difficulty of getting a N.E.W.T. in potions to what Cedric hoped to
do when he had finished school.
"I've thought about training to be an Auror," he said thoughtfully, running his
thumb across the back of Percy's hand, "but my dad says it's less glamorous
than it sounds. So perhaps something else. It might actually be rather fun to
do some of the liaising with Muggles."
"There's plenty of time to decide. You still have almost a year," said Percy.
He turned his head to kiss Cedric. "I'm going to be living at home for now, but
maybe next summer, if you're working at the Ministry, we could share a flat?"
He hadn't meant to say that, not yet. Not when there were too many reasons why
they shouldn't make any kind of commitment so soon; anything could happen over
the next year. When Percy was seventeen he'd been going out with Penny, and
look what had happened there. Why should he think Cedric's feelings would be
more consistent than his own had been? Percy held his breath and waited for
Cedric's reply.
Cedric's voice cracked a little as he said, "D'you really mean that? Because
I'd like that more than anything." He put his arms around Percy and kissed him,
hard.
"I mean it," said Percy softly, still unsure. Cedric seemed so happy that he
couldn't bring himself to retract the suggestion, though he warned himself
against depending on Cedric going through with it.
"Come on, Percy. I want you, want to see what it's like to have you inside me,"
Cedric said. "Now? Please?"
He fumbled in his robes and handed Percy a tube, then knelt on all fours,
turning his head to look back at Percy and grin, his teeth gleaming white in
the dimness. Percy swallowed, suddenly nervous now that he came down to it, but
his prick seemed to have no such fears; it was hard and eager again and he
could feel moisture leaking from the slit.
"All right." He knelt behind Cedric, stroking over the parted cheeks of his
arse, putting lube on his fingers to help spread Cedric further open. Cedric
grunted and shoved back against him enthusiastically, and Percy was just about
to try pushing the head of his cock inside when shrieks and screams and loud
crashes interrupted them.
"Don't stop," Cedric begged.
"That sounds like some kind of serious trouble, more than just high spirits.
We'd better go see what it is," said Percy with regret. "At least we're sober,
which is more than most of them can say, I suspect, so if there's something
badly wrong we could help."
Quickly they shrugged on their clothes – Percy stuffed his underpants into a
pocket, unwilling to take the time to put them back on – and Cedric cast a
Finite Incantatem to turn the cushions back into rocks before they hurried back
to the meadow. Percy managed to reach his family's tents and pretend to his
brothers that he had been there all along. In the confusion and distress at the
appearance of the Dark Mark, he didn't see Cedric again that night. He didn't
see him again until he was at Hogwarts that fall.
===============================================================================

iii. Interlude
"You sly dog," said Harry. "I never suspected you were anywhere but in the tent
that whole time."
He had undone his trousers and started stroking himself as Percy talked about
Cedric, and now his cock was hard, the moist head poking above the elastic of
his pants. "It's hotter than I expected, hearing you say all that. You don't
mind?"
Percy shook his head, his hair brushing across his cheeks, a few strands
catching on his glasses. He'd let it grow, some, at Harry's request; he would
never have it as long as Bill's, but Harry loved being able to run his fingers
through it. "You know I like watching you."
"You can watch all you like." Harry lifted his hips from the sofa just enough
to peel away his clothes until he was bare from the waist down, except for his
socks. He held Percy's gaze as he licked his own palm before wrapping it around
his prick again, his need too urgent to bother summoning the lube from their
bedroom.
"Wish I'd been there to watch you and him together," he said, his eyes half-
closing as he imagined Percy's lips wrapped around Cedric's cock. He wondered
if Percy had already known how to do that flicker with his tongue that drove
Harry wild every time, and if it had done the same to Cedric. "Wish I could've
been with the two of you..."
"Oh, fuck yes," said Percy, and as always the obscenity seemed incongruous on
his lips. Harry wanted to kiss him, to taste him, but his hand was flying over
his cock and he couldn't stop, not when Percy was watching with those flame-
blue eyes, hot with lust at the sight of Harry wanking himself just for Percy's
pleasure – well, and his own.
"I couldn't have said no to that, even if you were too young, you know," Percy
growled, and the thought of it made Harry almost come, but he held back,
deliberately slowing his stroke, turning over and teasingly bumping his prick
against Percy's thigh, rubbing against the fabric that separated him from
Percy's skin, then swinging his leg across so he was sitting facing Percy.
Harry's glasses had fogged over. Percy pulled them away and Harry blinked, both
easier and harder to see now, leaning close to let Percy bite at his neck as
Harry moaned and rocked his way towards orgasm on Percy's lap. Percy was
muttering in Harry's ear, saying, "That's right, you can't wait for the end of
the story, can you, have to have it now, go on, touch yourself, let me see that
beautiful cock of yours come for me," and Harry knew that Percy was really
turned on because he hardly ever talked like that, and when Percy repeated,
"Come for me," Harry did, all over Percy's clothes.
He felt limp and relaxed, then, his softening prick pressed against Percy's
still-hard one. "Tergeo," he murmured. Percy's hand was kneading his arse.
"God, you're hot, Harry."
Harry laughed. "You're the one who made me so excited I couldn't wait; I think
that qualifies you as pretty hot, too." He stroked Percy's cock to emphasize
his words.
Percy snorted in return. "I wasn't the one voted Witch Weekly's "Most Fanciable
Wizard" three out of the last five years... even though you haven't dated a
witch in six."
"That just means I get you all to myself." Harry gave him a smirk. "So go on,
tell the rest of the story... and then you can have me as your reward."
===============================================================================

iv. The Tallest Tower
Percy had been surprised when Cedric had written him that the Goblet of Fire
had chosen him as the Hogwarts champion, although he didn't tell Cedric so. And
really, when he came to think of it, who else among the seventh-years was any
better qualified for the honour? The news made Percy more than a little
apprehensive, however. These three contests would be dangerous. Even with
safeguards in place, Percy couldn't help remembering that in previous
competitions, champions had died. He tried not to think about that,
concentrating on Cedric's happiness instead.
When the owl from Mr. Crouch came, apologizing once more that he was unwell and
directing Percy to attend the Yule Ball at Hogwarts in his place, Percy was
delighted. He had heard, of course, about the first task. He suspected that
Cedric had glossed over some of the details, but he hadn't been too seriously
injured so Percy supposed that there wasn't much he could say. They had hoped
to meet in Ottery St. Catchpole over the Christmas holidays; since the
champions had to stay at Hogwarts for the ball, regretfully they had abandoned
that plan, which made this unexpected directive from Mr. Crouch all the more
welcome.
Percy combed his hair for the third time and straightened his robes. There was
really no point in it, given that he would have to Apparate to Hogsmeade and
then walk up to Hogwarts, but he did so anyway. His reflection pleased him. The
new navy-blue dress robes, which he had bought with his first month's salary,
lent him an air of dignified authority, he decided.
The ball itself was very much as Percy expected. On impulse he beckoned Harry
Potter to sit next to him for dinner – Harry shouldn't have been among the
champions at all, and looked terribly young and nervous as he walked in beside
Parvati Patil. Besides, if Cedric sat beside Percy, they might have a difficult
time keeping their hands off each other, whereas this way they could exchange
glances across the round table as long as they weren't too obvious about it.
The Weird Sisters' music was on the loud side, and rather more dissonant than
Percy preferred, but he wasn't there for that. Cedric danced with Cho Chang a
good part of the evening, as Percy had known he would. He quashed the feelings
of jealousy that rose up. It wasn't as if Cedric had much choice. As a
champion, he had to have a partner, and since it couldn't be Percy, better that
it should be a girl about whom Percy knew Cedric cared very little, save
perhaps as a friend. And, too, Percy could watch Cedric dance, enjoying the
sight without being called upon to dance himself. He was not particularly
graceful and he knew it, although Penny had at one time insisted on teaching
him the basics.
Instead of dancing, Percy drank a Butterbeer and made conversation with the
other judges and some of the Hogwarts staff. Since Mr. Crouch's letter had
arrived two days in advance, Percy had been able to contact the Headmaster and
ensure that he would be permitted to stay at Hogwarts overnight. He made the
excuse of not wanting to make the long walk back to Hogsmeade so late. Percy
knew precisely where the room that Professor Dumbledore assigned him was – one
of the benefits of having been Head Boy – and had owled Cedric a note to share
his plan.
When the ball was over and the students were beginning to disperse back to
their Houses, Percy rose, thanked Dumbledore and the rest for a delightful
evening, and made his way along the still-familiar corridors to the guest room.
He caught glimpses of couples in several niches along the way, but didn't
bother to pause and reprimand them. That was no longer his responsibility. He
waited, eager but with a touch of apprehension, for Cedric's knock. There was a
deliciously forbidden thrill at the thought of what they were going to be
doing, here in his old school. He patted the pocket of his robe; finding the
jar of lubricant still there, he pulled it out and set it on the table next to
the bed. He thought about taking his robes off altogether, but there was some
slight chance that Cedric might have someone with him, or that there might be
someone passing in the hall behind when Percy opened the door, so he sat and
waited with growing impatience. It was nearly half an hour before he heard
Cedric tap.
"I'm sorry," Cedric said as soon as he was inside the room. "I had trouble
getting away from Cho."
Percy didn't need to ask if Cedric had been kissing her. He could tell.
Cedric's lips were reddened, fuller than usual, and his eyes were bright. He
wanted to say something cutting, something like, "Since you couldn't get away,
how far did you go?", but he bit back the words. If they quarrelled it would
ruin this one chance they had to be together, perhaps until next summer; and
they'd never made any promises to each other, after all.
"It's all right," he said, taking a deep breath. "Come here."
Percy couldn't taste Cho on Cedric's mouth, only Butterbeer, as they lay
kissing hungrily on the bed.
"God, Percy," Cedric muttered between kisses. "Missed you so much..."
"I missed you, too. Wanted you." He had thought about Cedric every time he'd
wanked all autumn, reading and rereading the awkwardly passionate letters
Cedric sent.
Cedric groaned, pushing his hips against Percy's. "Oh yes. Wanted you too."
There was no reason to hurry, this time; there would be no Dark Marks blazing
in the sky above Hogwarts tonight to interrupt them. But they had been waiting
for so long that Percy hurried anyway, with Cedric encouraging him.
He undid Cedric's buttons with fingers that trembled, stroking Cedric's bared
chest, feeling the few sparse hairs, the shift in texture of his skin at the
nipples, the way Cedric sucked in a breath and tried not to laugh when Percy
ran his hands along Cedric's sides.
Cedric had been unbuttoning Percy's robes as well, and soon they were both
naked to the waist, shoes toed off and fallen to the floor. By unspoken
agreement they kept their trousers on for the moment. It had been too long
since they'd seen each other in person and Percy, at least, felt a little shy,
although he wanted this, wanted Cedric enough not to worry about breaking some
rules. He uttered a quick Nox which put out the main light, leaving only a
candle. That was better. They touched and kissed and panted against each
other's skin, sweaty fumblings that left Percy forgetful of anything except the
sheer pleasure of it.
Cedric was already hard and there was a damp spot seeping through his pants
when Percy finally unzipped his trousers and reached inside to cup the length
of Cedric's cock through the tight cotton. Cedric gave a throaty growl when
Percy ran his fingers lightly over the bulge, and pushed hard against Percy's
hand, almost tearing Percy's trousers open in his haste.
Percy gasped. Cedric had slipped his fingers inside Percy's underwear, skin on
skin, sweat-damp fingers wrapping around his equally damp prick.
"No, wait," Percy muttered, worried that he was going to find it too difficult
to keep control to fuck Cedric properly. "I brought lube, if you want to...?"
"Oh, I do. I brought some too." There was a chuckle in Cedric's voice and his
hand moved away again, tugging now at his own clothes, pulling his trousers and
underwear and socks off and dropping them all in an untidy ball on the floor.
Percy did the same, looking down briefly to see his cock nestled purple in the
thatch of auburn hair. Hastily he turned back towards Cedric; with the candle
behind Percy, Cedric wouldn't be able to see too much. Cedric's body was so
gorgeous, strong and muscular, that Percy felt skinny and unattractive despite
Cedric's obvious interest.
"How do you..." said Percy, just as Cedric said, "Do you want to..." Percy
laughed nervously.
"How do you want to try this?"
Was Cedric flushing a little? It was difficult to tell in the flickering light.
"Um, I'll get on my hands and knees, like we were going to do last time? That's
how I've, I've practised. You know." He was definitely blushing. "Thinking
about you."
Percy swallowed. "All right." It seemed the best idea to him, too, easiest to
control what he was doing, and stop if he should hurt Cedric too much. Since
summer he had done a little more reading up on the mechanics of it all, even
experimented on himself to see how it felt. He grabbed the little jar of lube
from the table, unscrewing the cap, and dipped his fingers in as Cedric rolled
over and knelt with his bum towards Percy. Percy swallowed again as he began
slopping lubricant around Cedric's arsehole.
"Merlin, that feels good, better than when I've tried it," Cedric said as Percy
gingerly pushed his index finger past the ring of muscle and into the soft
tight heat inside.
He moved that finger in and out a few times, enjoying the little sounds that
Cedric made, before adding a bit more lube and trying with two. As he eased
them further in, twisting his wrist a bit, he felt one fingertip brush over a
protrusion and when Cedric cried out, deduced that he had found Cedric's
prostate. He understood from his reading that many, although not all, men
enjoyed such stimulation, and was glad that Cedric was also one of them. It
didn't seem like it would be very pleasurable otherwise.
Percy was concentrating so hard that he scarcely noticed the sweat breaking out
on his forehead until a drop rolled, stinging, into his eye. He wiped at his
face with his free hand. One more finger, he supposed; his cock was definitely
thicker than two, and he wanted to be certain that Cedric was relaxed enough to
enjoy this. With three fingers working into Cedric's arse, Percy ran his other
hand along Cedric's back, reaching around to stroke his cock. "That good?"
Cedric twisted his head to look at Percy. "Fuck yeah. Please, I'm sure I'm
ready enough, I want you now."
"Tell me if it hurts," Percy muttered, belatedly remembering to put lube on
himself, too . He knelt up and nudged against the puckered hole that again
seemed far too small to take his throbbing prick.
"...all right." Cedric took a deep breath and exhaled it. Percy held onto his
hips and pushed. Oh, sweet Circe, he was about to fuck Cedric right here at
Hogwarts, and the thought was both deliciously wicked and sweet, as sweet as
the way that Cedric was moaning "yes" and "god" and "Percy" as Percy's cock
slid into him, as slowly as Percy could manage.
He was inside, completely enveloped in that amazing slick warmth, his bollocks
pressed against Cedric's skin. He wanted to move, but he held back. "You okay?"
"Yes," Cedric growled. "Fuck. Oh fuck," he said as Percy pulled back a little
and then pushed in again, trying to find the angle that would stimulate
Cedric's prostate some more. It was much more difficult to tell with his prick
than it had been with his fingers, but he was fairly sure he had managed it
when Cedric hissed, "Yesss..." once again and his hands clenched on the covers.
Percy had intended to hold on to Cedric's prick as he fucked him, but the
sensations were too distracting, too overwhelming, and far too soon he felt the
familiar tightening that preceded orgasm, the itch that seemed to curl up along
every nerve from his toes to his palms, wrapping around his cock along the way,
and he gasped out Cedric's name as he thrust one last time and spilled himself
deep into Cedric's arse.
He took his left hand off Cedric's hip and used it to roll them over. With his
prick still buried to the root, he reached with his right hand to grasp
Cedric's cock, hot and heavy with blood, slick with precome and lube, and he
used a fast rough stroke, the way he knew Cedric liked it.
Cedric squirmed his arse against Percy's hips and thrust into his hand,
panting, noises coming from his throat like nothing Percy had ever heard from
him before, not even when Percy had sucked him off. He stiffened, his cock
pulsing. The wetness leaked through Percy's fingers and Cedric grabbed Percy's
hand, bringing it to his face to lick up his own come. It felt so good that
Percy's cock showed renewed interest, but he pulled out of Cedric's arsehole
anyhow and just rutted slowly between Cedric's thighs.
"Percy..." Cedric said in a half-whisper.
Percy tightened his arms around Cedric's waist. "Mm-hm? How d'you feel?"
"Like a million Galleons." Cedric moved gently back against Percy, encouraging
him. "It was better than I thought it would be... and I thought it would be
amazing."
"I'm glad." Percy kissed Cedric's shoulder. "I wish you could stay all night."
"Me, too, but I shouldn't." Cedric sighed. "For a little while longer, though.
I wish there hadn't been this Ball; if it had been a regular holiday between
terms we could have had more time together. And I wouldn't have had to dance
with Cho as if I meant something by it."
He didn't say anything about kissing Cho, but he kissed Percy's hand again, and
Percy was fairly certain what he was thinking.
"I know," said Percy. His prick hardened further, imagining it. They wouldn't
have another chance to be together until who knew when. Probably not until
after the end of the school year, when Cedric would have finished his N.E.W.T.s
and would be looking for a position at the Ministry.
"You, uh."
"What is it?" Percy stopped frotting against Cedric, worried that perhaps he
was too sore for it to feel good, even though Percy was staying away from his
arsehole now.
"You talked at the World Cup about maybe sharing a flat, next summer?" Cedric
turned his head awkwardly to look over his shoulder. "No, don't stop, that's
nice."
"Okay." Percy resumed his movements. "If you still want to, yes, I'd like that
very much." The thought that Cedric had been making plans about living together
warmed him, and he pressed a little harder against Cedric's thighs.
"We could do this all the time," said Cedric. "Well, every night. We'd both be
working I suppose." He reached behind himself to squeeze Percy's hip. "But with
this to look forward to, even a dull job would be worth it."
"Mm. Yes," said Percy breathlessly. He rarely was able to come twice so
quickly, but he hadn't wanked in days, wanting to wait until he was with
Cedric, and now... "Oh, oh yes," he half-shouted, as Cedric's fingers slipped
down to caress his prick, still slick with the remnants of lube and come, and
his back arched in a second orgasm.
"There." Cedric's voice was filled with satisfaction. He turned over to face
Percy, putting his arms around him and nuzzling into his neck. "I'll really
like being able to do this with you every night."
"You're not worried about being too, I don't know, too serious, too soon?"
Percy hated to ask it, but he had to know.
"No. Why, are you?" Cedric tipped his head back. "Honestly, I'm not. I think we
can make a go of it, for a while at least. And we'll always be friends, no
matter what, right?"
They'd been friends since they were practically babies. "Of course." Although
Percy wasn't quite as sure of that as Cedric seemed to be. Most of the people
in his own year hadn't stayed close to their former girlfriends and boyfriends
when they'd broken up, he'd noticed, but they hadn't usually known each other
all their lives. It seemed like it might be more difficult with someone of the
opposite sex, too.
"There's one thing though." Cedric looked almost shy. "Um. Yeah. Would you want
to tell your parents? That we're together?"
"We could hardly not tell them that we're living together," Percy pointed out.
Cedric shoved him gently. "Prat. You know what I mean. That we're together
together."
"I know." He hadn't really thought about it; had put off thinking about it, in
fact, quite deliberately, because he couldn't quite see going up to his parents
and telling them that he was gay. Not that he thought that they'd throw him out
of the family, or anything; he didn't know what he thought they'd do, but the
idea was embarrassing. Who wanted to tell his parents about his sex life?
"Would you tell yours?"
"Maybe not right away. If we had a flat with two bedrooms, we could really
share one of them, but it wouldn't have to look like we did."
"That's an idea." They wouldn't actually need to lie about it, just... not tell
all the truth. Not right away, not till they wanted to.
"Good," said Cedric, in a relieved tone. "It's not that I'm ashamed, it's just,
you know. Not quite ready to have everyone know?"
"I'm not, either. It's a good plan."
"So I figure I'll go home after the end of next term, and tell my parents that
you and I talked about being flatmates, and then we can start looking for a
place once I've found a job?"
"Mm hm. I might look around a bit before then, see what there is available,
find out how much they'd cost to rent."
"Great." Cedric snuggled closer, his skin warm against Percy's own. "That'll be
grand."
===============================================================================

v. Postlude
Percy gave a sigh. "We wrote, of course, the rest of the winter and spring, and
I was at Hogwarts for the second task. You remember."
"I remember," Harry agreed. He would never forget the taste of gillyweed, of
going into the lake in search of Ron. "But it was Cho who was the person Cedric
would most miss, not you."
"Yes." Percy's voice was tight. "I was never sure why. He swore to me, in his
letters, that he wasn't in love with her, that they were just friends. All the
people who were chosen were school-age... maybe that made a difference? Not
that it matters now. I had hoped that he and I might manage a little time
together that day, after the task was over, but Madam Pomfrey took you all up
to the castle, you were all so cold and drenched, and... well. That was that."
"I thought you were worried about Ron," said Harry, thinking back. "You
practically grabbed him out of my hands and pulled him to shore."
"I couldn't do that when Cedric came back, could I?"
"No, I suppose not. So then the two of you kept writing?"
"All the rest of the term. I was disappointed when they wouldn't let me stand
in for Mr. Crouch for the third task, naturally, but by then the term was
almost finished, and I'd started looking at flats, a little bit. I thought
maybe I'd have good news for Cedric once the tournament was over."
Harry pushed himself up on his hands – he had been lying half on top of Percy
for the second part of the story, toying idly with the hair on his chest where
Harry'd unbuttoned his robes at the same time Percy had described how he and
Cedric had undressed each other – and stared until Percy met his eyes.
"Don't," Harry said firmly. "Don't feel bad about Cedric's death. If anyone
ought to, it's me, and you were the one who taught me, ages ago, that I
shouldn't take on guilt that isn't mine. You weren't there, and if you had been
there was nothing you could have done; it was not your fault." He held Percy's
gaze, waiting, and finally Percy nodded. Then Harry kissed him, using every bit
of knowledge he had to make it a kiss that would make Percy forget everything
for the time being except for the fact that Harry was there, in his arms.
It worked. Percy pulled away, just a bit, but only long enough to snatch up his
wand and cast an Engorgio on the sofa, so that when he rolled them over and
began pulling at Harry's remaining clothes, the two of them didn't fall off
onto the floor.
Percy's skin was hot and dry and Harry traced patterns across his chest, going
from freckle to freckle, then from nipple to navel, then further, tasting the
musk of Percy's cock and rolling him over to sample the green bitterness of his
arse, thrusting his tongue as deeply as he could until Percy was writhing
beneath him, rubbing frantically against the cushions. Then he slowed down,
licking at each wrinkle softly, rubbing the wetness that spilled over into the
skin between Percy's arsehole and balls.
Harry was kneeling on the floor now, frotting himself against the sofa, both
his hands and his mouth working to take Percy up to the height of passion and
keep him there, burning, for as long as possible.
"Fuck, oh fuck, please," Percy begged. "Need, need you, in me, oh fuck
please..."
"Soon," Harry mumbled against him.
"Now, Harry, oh fuck, can't.."
With a last slurp Harry pulled his mouth away. "Move forward."
Percy scrambled away from the edge and Harry knelt on the sofa; spit was really
not enough lube but neither of them could wait, so he pushed into Percy anyhow,
and Percy cried out to urge him on, rocking back against him. "Yeah, oh fuck
yeah, fuck me hard, please."
He did, riding Percy roughly, feeling the clutch of Percy's arse tight and
almost scraping, wrenching the orgasm from him.
"God, yes." Percy's voice broke as Harry fell forward. He grabbed Harry's hand
and together they stroked Percy's cock, Percy pinching his own nipples until he
gasped and bit his lips and came, shuddering in Harry's arms. He tasted of
metal when Harry kissed him, and held Harry tightly as if fearing that he might
disappear.
Harry breathed, in and out, brushing Percy's hair back from his forehead – he'd
never taken off his glasses, and they were smudged and askew under the red
strands, so Harry carefully removed them. "It's all right," he said. "It's all
right."
"I know." Percy whispered the words against Harry's neck.
"I'm sorry that you and Cedric didn't get your happily ever after."
"We mightn't have, anyhow, you know. Not that young." Percy moved away just far
enough – which was to say about four inches, given their mutual bad eyesight –
that he and Harry could look at each other properly.
"But I think I got mine anyway."
End Notes
     Written for nqdonne for the 2007 percy_ficathon.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
oes is Micky and he’s known the man almost
three decades.
Not three hours.
—
The bath is hot.
Much hotter than he’s used to but he wants to sleep, and the heat will pretty
much ensure he will sleep soundly, and hopefully, immediately.
Jaejoong had allowed him to leave pretty much instantly. The blond beauty had
finally turned, eyes meeting Changmin’s immediately for the tall supermodel
hadn’t let his best friend out of his sight. A beatific smile on his face as he
pushes through the mess, leaving his new husband behind as he fights the
congratulating crowd to get to his Changminnie, making good on his promise as
he told Changmin he has five blissful hours of not being bothered. And then
proceeded to kiss the bemused brunette full on the mouth in front of everyone.
Changmin wonders if Jaejoong will ever change. The man likes stirring up drama
wherever he goes, and apparently, this is his wedding and he can do whatever
the fuck he wants. He didn’t bother to look Micky’s way, but he’s sure the man
can’t be too happy about that. The ink is barely dry on their marriage contract
and his trophy wife is already kissing other men.
The teenager knows full well who wears the pants in that relationship.
Though he wonders if Micky’s been clued up just yet.
Laughter echoes around the bathroom.
A full out belly laugh from a very amused supermodel sitting alone in too-hot
water, hugging his knees as he expends all the pent up energy he’s been
containing since a certain businessman all but took his fucking breath away
with eight measly words.
“I’m glad to see you’re in high spirits.”
It’s like he got sucker punched.
A lame movie with an even lamer line flits across his mind.
You had me at hello.
Yunho had him at I.
The laughter chokes off as he starts to feel the tears creeping up on him.
His best friend is gone, and all he has to show for it is some deep rooted
pining, he doesn’t even want to fucking acknowledge, of a very dangerous man.
Dangerous because Jung Yunho is more than capable of ruining Shim Changmin.
He had him at fucking I.
—
Yunho waves the barman over, asking for the same.
His third finger of whiskey and it doesn’t appear like he might be stopping.
Micky and his new wife are no longer in the building, whisked off by several
photographers and a multitude of clothing and makeup males and females to take
some wedding shots for the dinner that night. Weirdly enough, Jaejoong didn’t
want anything done prior to the wedding, wanting the day itself to be
everything.
Yunho had pointed out a couple of times to the icy blond supermodel that what
he’s planning leaves absolutely no leeway or room for error, and that if the
weather doesn’t cooperate, he’d be shit out of luck, and sans wedding photos to
boot.
And the blond’s reply?
I fucking dare the weather not to cooperate.
Oh, to be young again.
Yunho always has a backup plan for everything, and Jaejoong’s lack of one
disconcerts him on several levels.
His best friend takes it in stride though, the happy go lucky Micky Park
Yoochun seems to bask in his former fiancé, now wife’s, craziness. The wedding
is exorbitant, but then again it was always going to be no matter who Micky
married. The man has a taste for the opulent and it shows in the massive
mansion he lives in. Yunho on the other hand, is more than happy in his
perfectly sized penthouse, needing no expansive gardens, multiple swimming
pools or tennis courts.
In all honesty, he does think the match is a rather suitable one. Jaejoong,
while a little too over the top for his tastes, has a rather good head on his
shoulders, and his ability to boss everyone around is an asset in a household
as large as Micky’s. He doesn’t think the CEO of Park Industries actually
noticed though, too enamored by the teenager’s face and body, he knows exactly
why Micky married Jaejoong.
His best friend married well, despite the odds. He’ll give him that much.
He is also in for a rather rude surprise when he (finally) realizes his wife
isn’t a biddable teenager.
And speaking of biddable…
Yunho can’t get Changmin out of his head.
That man doesn’t have a single biddable bone in his entire body. This, Yunho
would almost be willing to bet his empire on. He’s spent most of the morning
paying close attention to the sullen brunette who only gives an inch to
Jaejoong, and even then, he barely budges. Jaejoong has to practically fight
for every victory, and most of the time, Yunho has come to realize, the blond
actually backs down before a full out war happens. Whenever he is about to
launch into a melodramatic fit, Changmin merely quirks an eyebrow and ignores
him.
He doesn’t say much at all, but his eyes, and sometimes his face, speak
volumes.
And it is exactly because of those eyes that Yunho is tossing back his third
drink and contemplating a fourth.
Micky had warned him for what felt like the millionth time, that Changmin isn’t
like Jaejoong. Yunho knows his best friend has it so far wrong though. Yes, the
two supermodels aren’t alike in temperament, but they’re both cut from the same
cloth.
They’re the type of men who will make your life both hell and heaven, and more
often than not, at the very same time.
He has never wanted to possess anyone as badly as he does with Changmin.
And the word is most certainly possess.
Yunho wants to own him.
He wants to ensure there is no doubt whatsoever to whom the stunning supermodel
belongs to.
And that’s the part that is keeping him at the bar, and not in search of the
brunette who’d vanished mere minutes after a rather spectacular kiss in front
of a hundred people who’d been too shocked to do anything but gape.
“Alone, handsome?”
Yunho looks up into a pair of beautiful eyes.
The wrong pair of beautiful eyes.
He stands, nodding to the bartender who acknowledges his departure with a
friendly wave, before he turns to the stranger who’d greeted him.
“Not for long.”
—
Changmin is drying his hair when he hears three sharp raps on his door.
No doorbell.
Someone is actually knocking, as if expecting the person situated within the
expansive suite to hear them.
But then again, the quality of these knocks seem to ensure immediate obedience,
for Changmin finds himself at the door and ready to open it before his brain
catches up with his instinct.
The supermodel swears under his breath, irritated with his body for complying
so easily to the summons of someone he wants to avoid at all costs. Oh, he
knows exactly who’s on the other side of the door. Only Jung fucking Yunho
would be so bold as to push his way onto a private floor. He knows for a fact
that Jaejoong had specifically asked for the entire floor to be out of bounds
to everyone except his wedding party, and last time he checked, Yunho belongs
to the husband side of the wedding party, not the wife.
He opens the door, not bothering to lift the security bar on the door so it
only opens six inches.
“All the way, Changmin.”
Bossy as fuck. Seriously, who the fuck does this man think he is?
But again, his body complies before his brain catches up, and the bar is off,
though he leaves the door shut, his back against it as three sharp raps come
once again.
He can feel each knock reverberating deep in his belly, and his cock is already
responding to the presence of the man on the other side of the door.
Changmin wonders how long he should hold out, or whether he should just go fuck
it. The man did insinuate he’s a whore after all. Maybe he’ll just give him
what he expects, and then Yunho will be gone from his suite, and preferably,
his life.
Oh the teenager knows the latter is probably a futile hope. The fact that
Jaejoong is married to Micky Park Yoochun will all but ensure that Changmin
will bump into Yunho at some point. Now, will he act all worldly like the
supermodel whore Yunho expects, or will he behave like the innocent virgin he
actually is?
He hates feeling like the only one thrown off balance by the whole damn thing.
Three more increasingly short raps on the door behind him, and Changmin makes
his decision.
The supermodel pushes away from the door, opening it without even turning
around as he walks away, continuing to dry his hair as he heads past the lounge
area. He tugs at the belt around his waist, his hand shaking badly and his jaw
is clenched tight, but his resolve is strong. He wants Yunho too fucking much
to leave this to chance, and the itch needs scratching so badly it actually
hurts.
Yunho is about to growl at being kept waiting when he sees the robe drop from
the supermodel’s shoulders.
And he almost clean bites his tongue in half.
Holy mother of god.
And in his shock, he forgets to push the security bar back over the door as it
shuts with a quiet hush behind him.
He knows he probably looks like a fool, mouth slackened as he remembers the
last view he had of a very long, tanned, and completely naked form before
Changmin turns the corner and disappears from sight.
Yunho wants nothing more than to follow the shameless supermodel into the
bedroom or wherever the fuck he’s disappeared to, but he’s actually genuinely
concerned that this is going to be over before it even has a chance to start,
and so, with a willpower that surprises even himself, the businessman turns
away from following the younger man, eyes searching and locating the stocked
bar instead.
Changmin is a mess. His hands are shaking and he is looking a little wild about
the eyes as he stares at himself in the mirror. He is both relieved and
disappointed that Yunho hadn’t followed him after that excessive display of
skin. He is still very much nude, completely at ease with his body, having
trained himself to ignore looks sent his way. He is a supermodel, here to sell
the clothes and not his body. Anyone who looks at him is looking at the clothes
and not at him. He might as well be invisible.
He wants to be invisible.
He likes it that way.
But he doesn’t want to be invisible to Yunho.
And therein lies the problem.
Changmin is pragmatic, and a little too logical for his own good. He knows
Yunho wants him. That much was made very clear to him earlier. He also knows a
man like Yunho will not be tied down unless it’s on his own terms. Changmin
wants nothing to do with that. He enjoys his freedom and he enjoys his work,
even though with Jaejoong being married, he knows his life will be a little
different.
A little lonelier.
It is this that is truly bothering Changmin. He’s always had Jaejoong. The way
blond supermodel had all but adopted him as his younger brother had caused the
teenager to resist at first, but that deep seated need within him to belong to
someone never ever dissipated. Jaejoong had merely filled that need, but never
actually quenched it.
And then Yunho walked in, the older man with a smirk from hell that promises
heaven.
Changmin wants to ignore it. Hell, he’s done a damn good job of it, he’s sure
of it.
But his body.
His fucking body is betraying him like it’s never betrayed him before.
It’s like his body knows to whom it belongs, and it sure as fuck doesn’t belong
to Changmin.
Totally fucked up.
And he’s done fighting it for the sake of fighting it. He knows this is
probably going to be a one time thing, and if it is, then he’ll make damn sure
it’s something worth remembering for the long cold nights ahead.
A tad melodramatic to be sure, his thoughts are more Jaejoong than Changmin but
the supermodel is tired of battling his own body. Not when he can take out the
battle on someone else instead.
He squares his shoulders, emptying both his eyes and face of any semblance of
emotion as he straightens. The supermodel reaches out a long finger, tracing
his features in the mirror, following its progress down his body, feeling his
nipples harden as his fingertip grazes their reflection on the cold mirror. His
imagination is very good, and Jaejoong is not just a great older brother, he is
also the best (or worst) at oversharing intimate details. Changmin always
feigns annoyance at being made to listen to all manner of filthy things, but he
is a teenager after all, and he does pay attention. The only difference is, all
those stories from not just Jaejoong but the other models they work with don’t
stir his cock the way the mere idea of Yunho simply speaking about it does.
Yunho just has to quirk his eyebrow, and Changmin will willingly attribute all
manner of dirty thoughts to the older man.
The man could be thinking about his expensive shoes for all he knows, and
Changmin will be imagining Yunho thinking about stripping him.
It really is that bad.
And so fucking ridiculous.
His mouth purses as he stares at his reflection.
“Well then,” his voice is soft in the large bathroom, almost swallowed by the
vast emptiness of the room. “The show must go on.”
Do or die. Seventeen year old Shim Changmin has thrown his lot in with the
devil.
—
Yunho is still nursing his first snifter of brandy when the supermodel finally
strolls of out the bedroom with not a care in the world. Cigarette hanging from
the corner of his mouth, with the full pack in his hand, his hair drying into
what looks to be hair tending towards curl, face scrubbed completely clean of
makeup, the supermodel looks both too young and way too old.
He is actually dressed too, and Yunho is torn between relief and
disappointment.
The CEO watches the man move, his steps are measured, calculative, a little too
smooth.
His eyes narrow.
“You don’t have to walk like this is a fucking catwalk. I’m already buying what
you’re selling.”
Changmin scoffs, turning to perch a hip on a sideboard. “Don’t flatter
yourself.” He pulls the cigarette from his lips, willing his hands not to
shakes. “I already told you I’m too expensive.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Micky’s bitchy best friend.”
Yunho resists the urge to chuckle. The man is trying too hard.
“I thought that description more apt to you.”
Changmin shrugs as he pushes away from the sideboard to stalk towards the man
lounging indolently on his damn couch in his damn suite. The nerve of the
bastard.
He finally notices the glass in Yunho’s hands.
His damn alcohol too!
A scowl twists the beautiful features of the tall supermodel as he leans down
to snatch the drink from Yunho’s hand. He lifts the glass, holding it up into
the light, seeing the amber liquid with the ice cubes clinking merrily within
it.
“Made yourself at home, have you?”
“The host wasn’t very welcoming. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You were uninvited,” Changmin bites out.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Yunho smirks up at the supermodel. The man is wearing
nothing more than a dressing gown. Different to the bathrobe still lying in a
heap on the floor by the side, but still not much.
It is the smirk that does it, making Changmin see red as his body reacts. He
takes a long final drag from his cigarette before he drops the butt into
Yunho’s brandy with a smirk. He bends over with a flourish, presenting the
tainted drink back to the insufferable businessman. “Your drink, sir.”
Yunho knocks the glass from Changmin’s hand, pulling the supermodel into his
lap at the same time, satisfied with the shocked sound from Changmin’s mouth as
he licks the younger man’s mouth.
Changmin rears back instantly at the touch, but he is trapped as Yunho chuckles
in his face.
Hateful man.
“Do you want to play now, or later, my pretty baby?” Yunho gazes down at the
parted dressing gown, extremely amused to see the supermodel is totally nude.
He fists the younger man’s already turgid cock, smirking at the strangled sound
coming from Changmin throat. “Looks like you want to play now, pretty baby.”
The endearment, if you can even call it that, pisses Changmin off even more as
he struggles.
But Yunho’s hand is still on his cock, and the struggling increases the
friction on it as the man’s hand pumps with his movements.
His fucking body.
Yunho’s grip on him is awkward, pulling at his sensitive skin with each
struggle but with the pain comes the pleasure, and Changmin wants more.
But not like this.
He pries Yunho’s thumb, pushing back as hard as he can as the man lets him go
instantly, eyes wide as Changmin finds his feet and backs away. His dressing
gown is still parted, but his eyes are flashing with anger as he glares down at
the surprised businessman.
Yunho massages the joint of his thumb, unable to hide his incredulity. “You
almost broke my thumb.”
“Nothing you didn’t deserve, old man.”
“What the fuck are you?” Yunho asks, as the pain in his hand dissipates, eyeing
the supermodel with the blazing eyes. The pain was pretty much an instant
damper on the proceedings and he’s wondering if it really is even worth
pursuing this spitfire. There’s burned and then there’s burned. He has a
feeling Changmin is not the type who takes prisoners in the bedroom. Yunho is
far more used to his bedmates being soft, willing and compliant, not violent.
And for some insane reason, it’s heating his blood like no one else ever has.
“Strip.”
Yunho’s eyebrow goes up at the command, as the supermodel crosses his ankles as
he once again leans back against the sideboard. The belt to the dressing gown
has lost the battle, but there isn’t a single ounce of shame in the younger
man’s eyes as he stares down at him.
“Are you deaf?” Changmin asks. “I know you’re old, but I’m not exactly quiet.”
Yunho leans back against the couch as he contemplates the young model. He’d
thought the man still in his teens, a little older than Jaejoong, but even he
cannot imagine Jaejoong being so bold. Twenties then? Early twenties? His eyes
rake the man’s blemish free face, his scowling countenance doesn’t detract at
all from his beauty. In fact, it only enhances it for those eyes are filled
with fire.
Lust.
He smirks, as he sinks lower into the couch. “Why don’t you come here and do
it?”
Changmin doesn’t need to be asked twice, stepping forward to shrug out of the
flimsy dressing gown he moves immediately to sit astride Yunho’s lap. The man
is already sans jacket which makes his job a lot easier.
“Do you like this shirt?” he asks casually, dragging his fingertips down the
mother of pearl buttons. The opalescent shine to the expensive buttons gives
him brief pause, but Yunho’s knowing lilt to his reply in the affirmative
knocks out any guilt he might feel at ruining the expensive shirt.
Buttons go flying as Yunho’s laughter reverberates around the room.
“You are a brat. How are you planning on paying for that shirt you just ruined,
pretty baby?”
“I’m sure you’ll find some way to make me pay,” Changmin replies huskily as he
slides off Yunho’s knees to get between the man’s legs. An expert at disrobing
in seconds, the man’s pants don’t have a prayer against Changmin’s skilled
hands.
“Done this before have you?” Yunho asks, a pang of something he’d rather not
examine too closely filling his chest briefly.
“Many times.”
Before Yunho can react to that admission, his cock is out, appreciative hands
fisting the base of his cock. He looks up, his brain and body are not quite
dancing the tango together, one a couple of steps ahead of the other.
All he sees are soulful deep brown eyes that hold a hint of uncertainty behind
the cloud of lust.
It is that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glimpse of uncertainty that gives Yunho
pause.
Changmin looks so fucking young.
Too damn young.
“Wa—“ Yunho’s request for the man to wait is cut off as a hot mouth closes over
the tip of his cock, and his protest turns into a deep moan instead as his
length slides into a tight, welcoming, mouth.
Changmin has zero idea where the fuck all this boldness and brazenness is
coming from. He really has no fucking clue. He is acting purely on instinct and
nothing else. Yes, he may or may not have practiced on a few bananas with a
gleeful Jaejoong, but that’s not the same.
Hell no.
This is better.
Yunho’s scent is driving him mad. It drove him mad already earlier when they
were just side by side, but like this? He wonders if he can come from blowing
the man, because it sure as hell feels like he can.
Changmin’s gazes up through his lashes as he sucks and licks around the man’s
unsurprisingly substantial cock. Really, only Jung Yunho would have a cock to
match his physical size. He pumps on the drawback, and is rewarded by a tang on
his tongue that he has never tasted before and he pulls back slightly, eyes
wide as he looks up at the older man.
Yunho just about comes right there, as he watches that gorgeous mouth stretched
around his cock, lips so slick and wet and his belly tightens even more as
Changmin pulls back, mouth staying open, strings of precum linking his cock to
that tongue.
A tongue that teasingly, almost lovingly wraps on the underside of the head of
his cock as Changmin, whose eyes never ever fucking leave his, tilts his head
slightly as he licks heavily all the way to Yunho’s balls.
The industrialist finally moves, fisting the back of Changmin’s head, he tugs
hard, only to be rewarded by a dangerous nip to his sensitive balls.
“Jesus fucking christ,” he bursts out, yanking harder on Changmin who finally
comes up with a smirk, lips rosy and shining, slick with spit and precum. Even
the tip of his nose is wet, testament to two things.
His enthusiasm.
And his innocence.
Yunho doesn’t notice though.
Their mouths finally clash, and it’s more pain for Yunho as Changmin forces him
backwards, straddling his bare legs, hands on either side of his head to hold
him in place that suits the supermodel.
Not all caring for the crick in his neck the man is giving him, Yunho tugs at
his hands, linking their fingers and dropping their hands to the side. Their
kisses grow a little less rough with no hands to keep their stability and Yunho
forces the younger man to gentle. It is hard for Changmin has the higher
position, but Yunho refuses to give in to the marauding tongue in his mouth as
he plays catch with his tongue. He doesn’t allow Changmin any purchase on his
own tongue, always darting it out of the way till the supermodel finally pulls
his mouth free with a growl of dissatisfaction.
“Do you know how to kiss, old man?”
“This is not a battle, Changmin-ah.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Ah,” Yunho lets go of the younger man’s hands. “Is that what this is about?
There’s no battle here, pretty baby. You already have me. Now let me have you.”
Yunho gets up easily, despite having a very lanky supermodel in his lap,
dropping Changmin gently to his feet, satisfied as the man sways unsteadily on
his feet, leaning heavily against him for support. He cups Changmin’s cheek,
and despite the model being taller, it somehow works as their mouths meet
again. This time Yunho teaches him how to kiss without turning it into a bloody
battle of gnashing teeth and probing tongues.
But once again, he is surprised by the younger man as the supermodel draws back
with a sneer. “Old man, I want you to fuck me, not make love to me.”
He shakes his head, half amused, quarter annoyed, and the other quarter wanting
nothing more than to school this young deviant. What the hell has the fashion
industry produced?
“Alright then,” Yunho finally replies, manhandling Changmin and practically
throwing him face down against the back of the couch. “You want to be fucked,
pretty baby?”
Changmin’s gotten the breath knocked clean out of him as his chest collides
with the back of the couch. His knees are on the seat and his head is hanging
slightly off the back. He feels his knees being knocked further apart, and his
eyes widen at the implication. Ok, so he might have asked for it, but he’s a
virgin and no lube no prep no nothing, even he knows it’s going to fucking hurt
like hell.
He is about to protest, violently if he has to, body already twisting when he
feels a moist fingertip dipping against his opening, slicking it up before it
pushes in carefully.
The gasp of shock and the accompanying moan as his body actually allows the
intrusion, makes Changmin drop his forehead against the back of the couch. His
body really does have a mind of its own. If Changmin thinks no, his body goes
yes. He can’t win this battle.
Yunho is far bigger than his damn finger though, that much the teenager knows,
but he cannot control his hips that press back to take more. It hurts, but the
pleasure outweighs the discomfort so much that it really doesn’t truly register
in his mind.
And then just like that, the finger is ripped rather unceremoniously from his
body, causing the model to howl his anger and twist to look behind him to
demand that Yunho continue to fuck him. Who cares about lube?
Yunho slaps Changmin’s ass hard, causing the supermodel to howl again, turning
around, his eyes furious and practically shooting sparks, but Yunho knows what
he wants.
“Patience, brat. Remember what I said earlier? I want to taste you first.”
And with that he slips his arm under the man’s slim waist, hauling Changmin,
moving to drape his hips over the armrest of the couch, the younger man now
literally face down on the sofa with his ass up.
Disoriented by the wholly unexpected movement Changmin rears up to protest at
the man’s rudeness. His feet are on the carpeted floor, and he can stand
easily, but before he can gain his bearings, he is screaming bloody fucking
murder into the sofa.
The reason for that is simple.
Yunho.
The older man had dropped to his knees behind the lithe supermodel, spreading
his butt cheeks, he’s buried his face in the cleft of the younger man’s ass,
his tongue laving at the sensitive, clenching ring of muscle. The virgin nerve
endings of his little hole has never been assaulted by a man like Yunho, and
Changmin is vocal as hell. He is writhing, wanting to get away for he is close
to being over stimulated already. The teenager is a total mess as he tries to
get away from the older man’s very talented tongue. Yunho has a very firm grip
of his ass though, keeping the supermodel’s hips down against the arm of the
couch, the room is echoing with the muffled screams from the young man who is
practically ripping the upholstery from the couch with his teeth and clawed
hands. He doesn’t give a fuck about how he looks, his body is crawling with a
pulsating energy that is making him want to rip his face off.
He wants to punch someone.
Mainly Yunho.
Too tight, too coiled, too intense.
Yunho doesn’t let off for one second, his assault on the screaming supermodel
is absolute. His tongue is deep in the other man’s willing body, massaging and
licking at the opening, he spreads Changmin’s cheeks even further, slipping in
a finger with his tongue and the man’s screams get even more piercing as he
bucks wildly, coming hard from that, and the friction on his cock, with a howl
that leaves Yunho’s ears ringing as he flips the younger man over’ his cock
still spurting fluid, catching Yunho on the cheek as he bends the supermodel
backwards over the arm rest, practically in half as he drops his head to suck
on the tip of Changmin’s leaking cock, his slim body jerking almost violently
as Yunho tries to ease the man from his explosive orgasm.
Changmin’s eyes can’t focus, and he’s almost certain he’d gone blind if not for
the swimming lights above his head. It feels as if his eyes are filled with
tears, and he wipes hastily at his eyes with a limp arm, to find the wetness is
real. His body is clenching so hard, his abdominals working overtime that he
wonders if he never ever has to do a single sit up ever again if sex makes his
muscles contract this much already. His body is in an awkward position, but he
is very flexible, and it doesn’t bother him. What is bothering him though is
the man sucking on his cock, and he moves a hand down, slapping blindly at the
annoyance.
His hand comes in contact with a head, and he feels rather than hears the
growl.
“What is it with you and violence?” an amused voice washes down over him,
hardening his nipples instantly despite his spent body.
“A little pain never hurt anyone, old man,” Changmin’s voice is a hoarse croak
and he hastens to try and clear it before speaking again. “Wanna try?”
Changmin has no fucking idea what he did with the real Shim Changmin. All he
wants to do is goad the man and goad the man further till he punishes him. He
doesn’t care how. He already knows how fucking good he is with his mouth. He is
sure the rest of him is just as good.
“You are a true piece of work.”
Changmin’s eyes flutter shut, not bothering to respond. He’s masturbated before
but nothing has ever made him feel this level of languid bonelessness. He’s not
sure if he can even move.
He feels the weight leave the lower half of his body as Yunho straightens from
leaning against his legs. This brings a frown, as he is rather enjoying the man
pressing on top of him. He can feel movement, and he turns his head only to
bump his nose against a blunt object.
The teenager cracks open an eye to find himself nose to cock with a smirking
businessman looming over him.
“Come on, brat. You can’t be done already.”
“Fuck you.”
Yunho hums in reply as he fists his cock, nudging the head against Changmin’s
mouth. “You can fuck me, pretty baby. Now open your mouth.”
Changmin obeys, Yunho’s words echoing in his head as his mouth is filled. The
taste of that turgid flesh between his lips makes him moan, relaxing his
throat, he tries to take the man deeper. Somewhere along the way, instead of
sucking, he starts to chew, earning himself a light slap and Yunho pulling his
cock from his mouth.
“Not everyone enjoys pain, brat.”
“I do.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Yunho’s hot eyes rake across the debauched supermodel
splayed out so wantonly over the couch. “Get up,” he tugs at the man’s arm. “I
want to fuck you into the bed.”
Changmin groans long and low at the mental image and Yunho’s authoritative
tone. The supermodel despises authority but Yunho…he’s a little afraid that if
the man told him to heel, he actually might think about it.
Yunho doesn’t wait for the younger man to move, turning around, he moves to the
bedroom, leaving the supermodel to drag himself off the couch and follow.
The teenager sits up slowly, eyeing the chaos of the lounge. He looks around,
eyes lighting on the decanter of brandy on the counter of the bar, and he gets
up, swaying unsteadily on his feet, he grabs it as well as his pack of
cigarettes from the floor. He takes a deep breath, straightening his back,
hearing it click and pop, before he walks into the bedroom with his shoulders
back and his head held high. He knows Yunho affects him, but he will be damned
if he lets the man find out.
He finds the businessman standing by the dresser, touching his things.
“What are you doing?”
Yunho looks up, gazing at man’s reflection in the mirror. “Contemplating lube
options. I don’t have any. Do you?”
“The great Jung Yunho came to my suite unprepared?”
“Put a lid on it, brat,” Yunho’s voice is actually affectionate as he drinks in
the tall supermodel leaning in the doorway, watching as he waves the decanter
of brandy at him.
“Afraid of a little pain, old man?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I thought you said I’d be fucking you?”
Yunho’s smirk turns wolfish. “There’s fucking, and then there’s fucking. You’re
welcome to ride my face, pretty baby, but the only one getting filled, is you.”
Changmin has to resist the urge to clamp his knees like a virgin bride, the
shiver that wracks his body from Yunho’s words and gaze is not to be
underestimated. His cock is already filling at the mere thought and he is more
than a little annoyed at that. He watches as Yunho backs away from the dresser,
finally picking something, his other hand beckoning the teenager with a smirk
that honestly belongs in hell.
—
Yunho makes good on his offer, as Changmin rocks his ass over his face, the man
apparently enjoying getting his hole thoroughly fucked by Yunho’s tongue as he
bends over, sucking down Yunho’s cock messily while alternating between
shouting encouragement and yelling profanities.
Changmin can feel Yunho stretching him more and more, he can feel two fingers
with that tongue, sometimes three, but considering how well acquainted he is
with the man’s cock now that it’s practically his new best friend, he knows
it’s necessary. The man had chosen the bottle of olive oil that Changmin always
carries around. With the amount of crap that gets put in his hair practically
on a daily basis, the olive oil is a lifesaver.
Three fingers. He can feel three, now four, and the discomfort is borderline
painful.
And like earlier, all four fingers are suddenly ripped from his body without a
by-your-leave and Changmin slaps Yunho’s cock in annoyance.
“I’m starting to feel like a punching bag,” Yunho observes ruefully.
“What the fuck?” Changmin twists around, glaring at the smirking businessman.
“Do you want to ride me?”
“I thought you were going to fuck me into the bed?”
Yunho laughs, manhandling the supermodel once again, flipping him onto his back
next to him, moving fluidly and easily, knocking his thighs apart as he pushes
one leg up, and his cock in, without so much as a warning.
Changmin’s protest stutters, dying on his lips, his eyes so wide he can feel
them drying in the air-conditioned room. Of course Yunho isn’t going to wait.
They’ve both already came once each and the foreplay has lasted a long fucking
time. Of course he isn’t going to wait, because he doesn’t fucking know that
Changmin is a virgin.
The fucking burn, Changmin will be damned if his eyes water, but he cannot hide
the shock and the instance of vulnerability and uncertainty he feels and Yunho
sees it.
And he pauses, staring down at the beautiful wide-eyed young man, Yunho is
struck once again by how painfully young Changmin looks when his guard is down,
and the truth shows in his eyes. No matter the prep, his body is so tight, it’s
like a vice-like clamp on his cock, and the way the walls of his passage are
hugging him has to be felt to be believed.
He pushes forward a little more to be inside the younger man completely, and
Changmin’s mouth drops open with a soft gasp, just as a loud voice is heard in
the outer room.
“Changmin! Changminnie? What the hell happened here?”
Changmin cringes, closing his eyes, his arms pulling Yunho down to try and use
the older man to hide him from view and the inferno about to be unleashed on
both their heads.
“Changmin? Where are you? Changmin? Oh my fucking god!”
The married teenager stops dead in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at the
entwined bodies on the bed. He can’t see Changmin’s face, but he knows that
long fucking leg a certain Jung fucking Yunho has pushed back and the burst of
anger that explodes from the blond shocks everyone, including his new husband.
“You disgusting man! How dare you! How could you?” Jaejoong looks around to
find something to throw, but he is caught and caged by his husband. “Let me go,
you wretch!” he starts to struggle, kicking at Micky who holds firm. “Look at
what your friend just did to my baby!”
“Your baby?” Yunho’s brow furrows as he looks down at the man under him, and
then back at the practically apoplectic blond. “He’s older than you.”
“I’m sure he didn’t say that you stupid fucking fool. I’m going to call the
cops. You deserve to be hauled to jail. Changmin’s only seventeen you
deplorable disgusting fucking animal.”
The shock in Yunho’s face is unmistakable and it even causes Jaejoong to pause,
and Micky to groan, holding onto his new wife tighter as he whispers into the
back of his neck to calm down.
The Jung CEO turns to look down, and for the first time he finally understands
the wide-eyed look in Changmin’s eyes. Those bambi eyes are turned up to him
now, his gaze uncertain, vulnerable and imploring, shaking his head and begging
silently.
Yunho closes his eyes, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the teenager’s
forehead before he moves to tug a pillow down to cover their sides from view,
his tone is gruff and firm.
“Get out.”
“No. I’m not leaving without Changmin.”
“Park Jaejoong, I’m only going to say this once. I will look after Changmin.
Now get out.”
“No.”
“Hyung, please…” the voice is soft, muffled against Yunho’s arm, Changmin is
fighting the humiliation he is feeling and his best friend is making it worse.
“Minnie? Are you ok, baby?” Jaejoong tries to take a step forward but Micky
holds him fast.
“Just go. Talk later.”
“Minnie…”
“Joongie hyung…please…”
Jaejoong closes his eyes, body relaxing. They have a code. He knows Changmin is
alright. But that doesn’t mean Yunho will escape scot free.
The blond’s eyes are blazing once again when they open as he stares down one of
the most powerful men in Korea. “You fuck this up, Jung Yunho and I will kill
you with my bare hands.”
And with that, he shrugs himself free from his husband, turning and leaving the
room immediately.
“Should I be worried?” Yunho asks his best friend who is shaking his head
ruefully at him.
“Yes, my friend. Very much so,” before he too turns to leave to chase his wife.
The silence in the room is room lasts a very long minute after the purposeful
slamming of the unslammable front door.
Yunho drops his chin to nuzzle the teenager’s nose.
“Changmin?”
“Finish what you started, old man.”
“You really are a baby…”
Changmin clenches hard, watching in grim satisfaction as Yunho’s eyes widen.
“Say that one more time and your cock might get left behind in this room.”
“So fucking bloodthirsty, aren’t you?” Yunho shakes his head, leaning down to
kiss Changmin’s temple, as he starts to move. Long, slow strokes as he kisses
his way down the side of the teenager’s cheek.
That vulnerability he saw earlier is totally gone, and the original Changmin is
back. What he needs to figure out though, is which is the real Changmin.
“Old man.”
“Yes?”
“What did I say about making love?”
Yunho’s laughter is loud, only silenced by a hard slap to his ribs, and a
choked moan as the older man gives the teenager exactly what he wants.
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