Title: In Bulgaria, We Do It Sideways
Author: Fia Reynne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Krum/Karkaroff's Aide (who I have named Mikhail Borev, to clear up any confusion.)
Summary: It's good to be home.
Notes and Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. I wouldn't know what to do with them if I did. Please don't sue me, because I have less than nothing to my name, really. Dedicated to Magz, who inspired me to write this after I totally noticed these guys were holding hands during Cedric's memorial.

"It might have been you," Mikhail Borev whispered to Viktor Krum as he embraced him. "I might have lost you."

"Nonsense," Viktor snapped. "I was bewitched. A pawn. This whole tournament was a joke, staged by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"You did well," Mikhail insisted. "Professor Karkaroff is proud, no doubt."

"I'm a champion," Viktor growled. "I should be hoisting that cup over my head. I should be claiming you as the spoils of my victory."

Karkaroff's aide smiled wickedly. "You should be doing that anyway. Certainly you must be tense. I could calm your nerves."

"You would bed a loser after his greatest, most public failure?" Viktor spat.

Mikhail's smile softened. "You are no loser," he said softly. "You are my blessing." He turned Krum around and began to work on the rigid muscles of his back and shoulders.

"That English girl was such a bore," Viktor commented, melting into Mikhail's touch. "All she does is read, all day long."

"It wouldn't have done, the Durmstrang champion seen spending so much time with his headmaster's aide," Mikhail pointed out. "The fact that she's one of Potter's dearest friends was certainly good for your image. And she did look lovely on your arm at the Yule Ball."

"You're so tolerant of me," Viktor sighed. "I couldn't stand watching you with that girl, Potter's date. When I've graduated, then we can be together, yes?"

"We shall see, my love."

-------

Mikhail's words echoed in Viktor's head as they sat, hands entwined, at the memorial service for the boy who'd fallen to Voldemort's curse. It might have been you, I might have lost you. For a fleeting moment he was glad it wasn't he who'd shared Potter's victory. He was young, and arrogant, and convinced himself Voldemort would have spared him as Karkaroff's golden child, when he was certain Karkaroff's loyalties still lay with the Dark Lord.

He spared his lover a glance, and noticed his eyes were glistening with tears. He'd been thinking the same thing, then. Mikhail gave Viktor's hand a squeeze, though he wondered whether it was meant to be encouraging or posessive. He decided either was well enough for him, and leaned into his lover's side the slightest bit.

-------

It felt good to be home, at his flat just off the school grounds. Durmstrang was a beautiful school, but a celebrity of his status needed the privacy in his free time only living off campus could provide. Viktor was just settling in when there was a knock on the door.

"Mikhail," he said warmly, greeting the older man. "Come in. I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"I need you," Borev said simply. "To spend an entire school year stealing kisses and touches in hidden alcoves was torture, and I don't intend to waste another second."

Viktor moaned as his lover's lips pressed against his own, and he could feel the desperate need behind them. The kiss was rough and demanding, yet tender, somehow. "Mikhail," he whispered. "I am empty without you."

"You are so pretty," Borev told him, working the fastenings of his uniform jacket. "You are a work of art, and you should never be clothed, that your beauty never be hidden." He had Krum undressed in record time, and he fell to his knees. "Mine," he growled, engulfing Viktor's erect penis with his hot mouth.

Krum whimpered. "Mikhail," he said. "Mikhail, I am yours." He was reduced to wordless utterances as Borev pushed him back onto the bed, never breaking their contact, and took in his entire length. "I - Mikhail, I - oh," he gasped, spilling his seed into the mouth of the elder man.

Borev smiled wickedly, making a show of wiping off his mouth on his sleeve, though he'd caught and kept every drop.

"You're wearing too many clothes," Krum said hoarsely. "Let me -"

"No," Mikhail breathed. "I can't wait." He unfastened his pants. "Where is -"

"The drawer, in the side table," Viktor answered before he could finish.

Borev rummaged through the drawer, finally coming up with the tube he'd been searching for. He squeezed a goodly amount into the palm of his hand and rubbed his hands together to warm it before slicking his thick erection. One, then two, then three lubricious fingers found their way into Viktor's tight yet eager bottom. He squirmed against them. With a grin, Borev crooked his fingers just so, causing Krum to buck up against him and groan loudly.

"Now, please," Krum begged. "I need you now."

Never one to deny his love that which he could give him, Mikhail pressed the head of his cock against him, pressing every so gently, slowly until his head was entirely buried, and then the length slid in easily enough. Again, Krum resorted to wordless mumbles and grunts as Borev began a slow, steady rhythm.

It felt so good to be inside his love, after so many months of interrupted encounters in darkened hallways, which served only to stoke the fires of desire that burned low in his belly. He stopped in his thrusting, partly to torture Viktor and partly because it didn't seem fair that he was fully dressed while his lover lay exposed before him. He withdrew, causing Viktor to whimper, and removed his pants, which had fallen to his ankles. He kicked off his shoes and socks, and removed his jacket and shirt. He left his furry hat on, with a smile at the absurdity of it.

Borev arranged Krum more comfortably on the bed, curling up behind him. He pushed into him once again, wrapping the hand not being used to prop his head up around Krum's revived erection. "You feel so good, my darling. Obeecham te kato lud." It didn't take long for either of them to climax. The heart isn't the only thing absence makes grow fonder, and Borev bit into Krum's shoulder, hard, as he came inside him. They fell asleep still entwined, though in the night one of them had the presence of mind to pull the covers over their sweat-chilled bodies.

When they awoke, Krum smiled. "You're still here," he said simply.

Borev chuckled into Krum's hair. "You are mine, as I am yours. My place is with you, always."

Obeecham te kato lud - I love you like crazy