I Wish I Was Sorry - Chapter II

The first night it happened he had been having nightmares again. I knew it must happen frequently because I had heard him pacing up and down the hall in the dead of night, unable to sleep. On those nights I would hear him pause outside my door and I wondered whether he was debating to come in. But he never did and I was always too much of a coward to go to him.

That night, the night it first started for real, I heard him pacing again and the floorboard outside my room groaned as he paused, probably fighting an internal battle. Then the door creaked open and he was under the sheets and under my skin before I even realised what was happening. We just lay there for a few seconds; I think he had surprised himself by crawling into his godfather's bed and my heart was pounding so fast I felt sick.

Then he gave a muffled little sob and with a plummeting stomach I realised he was crying. Before I could stop myself, I had reached out and pulled him to my chest. He buried his face against my neck and I rubbed his back hoping I came across as a comforting parental figure. I prayed to God he couldn't feel my erection. He lifted his head slightly and with a raspy voice wet with tears he whispered, 'I'm scared.' And somehow we both knew he wasn't talking about the nightmares.

I had to fight back to urge to whisper Me too.

He lifted his head completely and rested it on the pillow and we just stared at each other for the longest time until my eyes were burning and I thought my heart would burst and it was almost a relief to close my eyes when my mouth covered his.

He made a funny little noise, somewhere between a squeak and a groan, and I drew back after only the briefest touching of our lips. I was about to mutter a hasty apology – even though I was far from sorry – when his hand crept up to my neck and his face was inches from mine, his head slightly tilted. So I kissed him again.

His mouth was soft and I was gentle with him, carefully putting just enough pressure on his lips with my tongue until they parted and I slipped inside. I softly explored his mouth and after a moment he began to kiss me back, tentative little flicks with his inexperienced tongue. My fingers ran down his back, skimming the unfamiliar contours of an adolescent body, and then softly slipped beneath his pyjama top, stroking over his flat stomach and up to his chest. I tried desperately not to think how wrong it was to have my hands up my godson's shirt. I tried particularly hard not to think how wrong it was to have my tongue in your son's mouth.

He was breathing heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath my hands and with a jolt I realised the hardness pressed against my thigh was actually his erection. I carefully rolled us so that I was on top of him, kneeling between his legs. I pulled back, finally breaking the kiss, and hungrily drank in the sight of him: hair ruffled, lips swollen and eyes half-closed in what I hoped was pleasure.

I then bent my head to his neck and softly kissed him while I began to unbutton his pyjama shirt. I started off gentle but soon I was biting and sucking his collarbone, knowing I'd leave bruises that would be purple in the morning, and was fairly ripping his shirt from him. It was hard to stop myself from just yanking down his pants and slamming into him, hard and fast.

It had been too long since I had been with someone. I want you to understand that, James. Twelve years in Azkaban never did anything for anybody's sex life. But I'm giving you the wrong impression again. I didn't start this just because I needed to get laid. I want you to understand that too.

So I forced myself to slow down. I pulled away for a few moments, trying to compose myself, and then leant back down to tenderly kiss his mouth again. I felt his hands at my waist, eagerly pushing up my shirt and I had to smile at his boldness. I helped him to pull the shirt up and then I tugged it over my head and discarded it on the floor beside the bed. He reached up and ran his hands over my chest making me shiver; I again couldn't quite suppress a smile at the look of mild wonderment on his face.

My own pyjamas were uncomfortably tight across my groin and it looked like he was in no better state, so I reached down and ran a finger across his waistband before sliding both his pyjamas and underwear down over his hips and thighs. I groaned at the sight of him and had an irrepressible need to feel the warm weight of him against my palm.

I managed to pull off the remainder of my own clothes, by then panting heavily, my erection throbbing almost painfully. I wanted him, the whole of him, so badly. I delicately ran my fingers from the tip to the base of his own erection and tried to steady my violently shaking hand as I looked up to his face.

His look of sheer terror made my head spin.

I abruptly stopped the movement of my hand and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. 'Do you want to stop?' I swear to God, James, I asked if he wanted to stop but he just shook his head, his eyes wide, and attempted a shaky smile. I returned it gently then kissed him as I began to stroke him again; I made sure to keep my hand soft and was relieved when I heard him sigh and he kissed me back with more confidence.

My hand cupped him and I paused to remember the spell, mumbling the incantation against his lips, and I felt my fingers suddenly slick and cool. I trailed my hand further between his legs and he murmured as I ran my fingers over him, wanting to make sure he was properly prepared. I knew it was his first time.

I held my breath as I slowly pushed a finger inside him and, like I expected, he hissed sharply and whimpered. I kissed his throat and hushed him as I pushed another finger inside. His hands flew to my shoulders and his bitten-down nails sunk hard into my skin as I added a third and final finger. I gingerly moved them around, trying to stretch him without hurting him too much but his eyes were tightly shut and his face scrunched up and I wasn't sure what he was feeling.

After a few minutes, deciding he was a ready as he'd ever be, I pulled my fingers out and then positioned myself. He yelled when I carefully drove into him and it suddenly occurred to me that I should have cast a Silencing Charm, but it was too late then. When I was completely buried in him I paused and waited for him to try and relax. He was so tight and his damp heat was enveloping me and he looked so beautiful, I found it hard not to come right there and then.

After a few moments he nodded, a quick jerk of his head, and I pulled almost the whole way out of him. He sobbed when I pushed back inside. It took a while but after several more thrusts he had stopped whimpering and made subtle little groans every time I moved inside him. He was quiet during the whole thing really, particularly compared to me; I couldn't help moaning when I felt his slippery heat sliding over me and as I jerked my hips faster I couldn't stop his name tumbling from my lips.

I brought my hand back to his erection and began to rub it, rolling my thumb over the tip as I felt my release drawing closer. He suddenly gave a little gasp and came against my palm, biting down on his bottom lip and digging his nails into my back. I was seconds behind him; groaning loudly, I came hard, spilling my heat deep inside him.

I collapsed on top of him breathing heavily, then he shuffled slightly and I pulled out of him, muttering 'Scourigfy' before rolling off. It was only then that I dared to look at him. His cheeks were tear-stained and he had half-sat up, drawing his legs to his chest as he sobbed softly. I tried not to look at the small smear of blood on his thighs.

I knew I should have said something, I should have held him, I should have told him I loved him. But I couldn't bring myself to do any of this and instead I turned and lay on my side, my back to him, hating myself. After a few minutes his quiet sobs reduced to the occasional sniff and I heard the rustle of sheets as he lay back down. I wanted so much to turn to him but for some reason I couldn't.

I jumped when I felt him curl up against my back but when his slender arm crept around my waist I laced our fingers together and squeezed his hand. He fell asleep quickly but I lay awake long afterwards, listening to his shallow breathing and feeling my heart break.

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