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Wedding Nights

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Believe it or not, but it happened at my littlest brother's wedding. I always thought Ron was a bit on the prudish side – even his bachelor party was absolutely tame (which is really a substitute for 'lame' here). But boy, his wedding was one hell of a surprise…

That punch was definitely punch-with-some-potion-or-other-in-it and if I know anything about my family, then we have George to thank for that. First time that I saw the boy laugh since… well, you know.

Fleur and some of her Veela-relatives got a little carried away after they'd had some glasses – you should have been there, high part-Veela are quite a sight. Bill really was envied that evening – at least by those who are into such things. Not me.

But Viktor – yes, Viktor Krum, the Viktor Krum, and no, I don't have a clue what he was doing on Ron's and Hermione's wedding, but he's been on Bill's and Fleur's, too; maybe he has a kink for Weasley-weddings? I guess there are stranger things –

What? Oh, come on, it really doesn't matter for what I'm trying to tell here, so let me get back on track. Where was I?

Yes, Viktor Krum. Well, he was one of those who couldn't stop drooling over the spectacle. He wasn't quite as bad as Ron – the poor sod will probably never hear the end of it if I judge Hermione correctly – but it was embarassing enough. I was directly next to Viktor, so I saw him standing there like an idiot, with glassy eyes and a slack jaw. He hasn't got the most beautiful face when he's normal, and that expression as if he'd been Obliviated once too often really didn't do anything for his appeal.

And then he dropped his glass, splattered his cream-coloured robe with the red wine and obviously didn't even realize it. Of course I couldn't just let him stand there in the shards. So I vanished the pieces of glass and then led him to the bathroom to help him get the stains out of his robe…

No, I don't know a charm for that. I'm not all that good in household magic and most of the guests were inebriated well past the point at which you can still trust them with a wand. And I confess, of course I also didn't mind using my hands to get Viktor out of his robe – he may not have a beautiful face, but I guess you have noticed his rather excellent physique…

Oh, spare me the disapproving look! I wasn't exactly sober either and it's not as if I'd had an evil masterplan – fill the guy up, lure him away and then have your wicked way with him. I mean, just because that's what happened, doesn't make it automatically my fault.

Anyway, as I was saying, I lured… no! I led Viktor to the bathroom, took his robe off and tried to get the wine stains out. When I was finished, the effects of his Veela-exposure seemed to have worn off and he tried to dry the robe himself. Notice the 'tried' – because then the damn thing suddenly caught fire! Like I said, not my fault.

By the time we managed to put the flames out (okay, okay, that wasn't actually us, and I'll be forever grateful that Harry loaned his house-elf to Ron for the celebration…), there really wasn't much left of the cloth of the robe. Viktor was cursing colourfully in at least four different languages, which might be impressive but couldn't change the fact that he was standing there in his underpants.

I tried to explain to him that most of the people out there probably wouldn't even notice his half-nakedness, and the rest wouldn't care. At least not in any negative way. Viktor seemed to take that statement rather sceptical, so I promised to find him something else to wear.

And now answer honestly: where would you look for clothing?

In a bedroom, yes? Well, that's exactly what I did. And since I couldn't let Viktor sit around in the bathroom forever – some of the other guests might have to use it, not everybody feels comfortable pissing behind the rose bushes, after all – I just dragged him along with me.

Mission: Find An Unoccupied Bedroom. That wasn't as easy as it now sounds – we walked in on three (yes, three!) different variations of naked acrobatics before we finally landed in what had once been Ron's room.

Viktor, who was by then quite green in the face (seeing my parents going at it can do that to you…), decided to sit down on the bed for a minute and breathe deeply, while I searched the wardrobe for a robe he could wear.

I'd finally found something in plain black that wasn't too shabby and turned around to give it to Viktor. But the guy didn't make a move to take it – he just sat there and stared at me with this intent look.

Then he slurred something about the uselessness of being an international Quidditch player and how the good-looking girls were all taken – don't know if he had the blues because Hermione was off the market for good or what, I've heard he'd once had a thing for her…

Anyway, I couldn't just let that go, so I stepped to the bed and told him that the good girls might be taken, but that there were still some great boys available.

He seemed confused at that, but before he could say more than "Huh?", I'd already kissed him.

I know that! And I don't think…

Oh, shut up and let me finish! There isn't much left to tell anyway. I went down on him, he returned the favour, we fell asleep on the bed, and the next day we acted as if nothing had happened. End of story.

So you want details? Yeah, that's what I thought, you perv. But why not. Like I said, I was kissing Viktor. At first, there wasn't much of a positive reaction, but he didn't exactly move away either. So I reached for the back of his neck and tried to get my tongue in his mouth. That's when he gripped the front of my robes with both hands and pushed me away. Not far and not with much force behind it, mind you. Just a few inches, so that we could look at each other. I mean, Viktor is a big, strong guy and not known for his exceptional patience; if he'd been offended by my advances he would've made that abundantly clear.

But he just looked at me with a frown for a minute before his expression cleared and he said: "Boys, hm?" I just grinned in reply, took one of his hands off my chest, placed it around my waist and resumed kissing him. With tongue.

When we both were panting I drew back a bit and whispered to Viktor to lean back on the bed. He did and I took a minute to just look at him, all laid out in front of me. Well, not all laid out, his underpants were still in the way, after all. But since they looked quite uncomfortable at that moment, I unceremoniously pulled them off of him.

Viktor didn't seem to mind. I believe I've already mentioned that he's not really the patient type, so when I stared a bit longer at him – yes, at his hard cock, if you have to know – he suddenly snapped his fingers in front of my face and asked if I was planning to do something about it.

I thought it best to answer that question wordlessly and settled myself in between his legs. I spit into my left hand and stroked it over the length of his cock a few times before I gripped it firmly around the base and licked slowly over the head. Obviously relieved that I was 'going to do something about it', Viktor arched his body towards me and closed his eyes but didn't make a sound.

I would have had him pegged for a, if not vocal, then at least loud type in bed, but he seriously surprised me by keeping his silence even when I began sucking him down in earnest. This blasted spiked punch still had me all dizzy in the head and I'm afraid my performance wasn't up to its usual standards – no, that's not an excuse! I can ask George anytime what potion he had us under and then you can have some and see if you're able to deep-throat afterwards!

Well, despite not being at my best, I managed to bring Viktor close to orgasm pretty fast and he still kept quiet. He had his hands dug tightly into the bedsheets though and tried to push his cock deeper into my mouth, so that I had to keep his hips down with both hands if I didn't want to gag. When Viktor came he shuddered violently and finally let out a single, strangled moan.

I was aroused like hell myself at this point and leaned my head on Viktor's thigh that I was still gripping with my right hand while I maneuvered my left one into my trousers and began stroking my cock.

Then suddenly I had a hand tangled in my hair that pulled my head up and brought me out of rhythm. I hadn't expected Viktor to blow me in return, but I surely wasn't complaining when he told me in no uncertain terms to lie down on my back and lose my trousers (I didn't wear any underpants to lose…). Then he positioned himself over my nearly-aching cock and began sucking without further ado. I don't really remember much about his technique, or lack thereof, only that it didn't take long to finish me off.

And that was it. We must've fallen asleep right after, Viktor on top of me and both of us sweaty and sticky. I woke up late in the next morning with a headache as if a herd of dragons had trampled through my brain. Pushing Viktor aside was easier said than done in this condition, but I finally managed to extricate myself without waking him up. I found my trousers, put them on and then went to the bathroom. Well, at least I went to the line of people waiting in front of the bathroom. When I'd finally had my turn, I felt a lot better – but nowhere near well enough to endure a round of But I'm not gay! – you know these professional Quidditch players.

So I said my good-byes to the family and went to spend some time with old friends I hadn't seen for a while before I headed back to Romania a few days later.

What I'm doing here now? Well, it's Harry's and Ginny's wedding tomorrow, haven't you heard? As far as I know, Viktor is invited and I'd bet my Gringotts vault that there'll be some surprises in the drinks – Ginny isn't the most law-abiding Weasley, after all. I'll just see what happens…