Aidan Lynch had always loved quidditch above all else. He preferred hovering above the fields looking for that little piece of gold over checking out females, just as he favoured the euphoria he'd receive from catching the snitch over the feeling of ejaculating inside someone else.
That, at least, had been true until he had encountered Harry Potter.
They met for the first time when the younger was fourteen, when he himself was battered and tired from crashing into the ground some times to many, not to mention quite miffed since he had been beaten by the Bulgarian seeker.
Leaning on his teammate as they shook hands with the officials, he had let his eyes stray inside the top-box. Then the most extraordinary green had met his own sky blue head on, and Aidan Lynch had found something that caught his interest more than the game he had turned from hobby into a living. Emotions had flared in all four orbs locked together, flown back and forth as an understanding was made and accepted.
I see you.
I see you too.
You intrigue me.
You intrigue me too.
Come find me.
I promise.
Rolling over in the bed he drew the warm figure lying next to him closer, effectively spooning him from the back, his toned arms encircling a toned stomach.
He had done as he had promised, his courting gifts being sent the very same day his green-eyed dream had come of acceptable age. It had been all over the news, older quidditch seeker courting Boy-Who-Lived?, but they hadn't cared, they wouldn't stop for the world.
And so he had finally found something he loved even above the most sacred of all sports.
Aidan smiled into the juncture of the pale neck and shoulder pressed into his face, he could hardly wait the day another special someone would be joining his Harry there, and soothingly rubbed the still flat stomach of his husband.