Linden Gardens, Notting Hill

by jtrue

The lives of Greg, the BBC producer and Viktor, the footballer, and their friends and family living in London. There will be some heartache, suspense and political intrigue. No magic. Names are the only similarity to Harry Potter. SLASH LEMONS MA

9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Okay, I might be flying under the radar here, though I don't know how. I will continue to post here and on AO3 for as long as I can. When/if I am forced to complete the relocation you can find me at - archiveofourown ~dot~ org. Then just do a search for Jtrue.

Much thanks to both Liz and Pauline for their suggestions, guidance and clean up. I send huge smooches to you both.

This book runs more or less concurrently with Enticements & Obstructions by OhJasperMyJasper, and picks up after chapter 13. Events depicted herein are tied into the lives of the central characters from my other book Culture Shock, that take place after chapter 24. If you have not read those, some of what you read here might leave you a bit lost.

As ever, giant hugs to my girls Maureen and Rebecca.

Anyone who has not read the incredible Equal & Opposite, or is not now reading the brilliance that is Errors & Omissions, or Enticements & Obstructions, all by OhJasperMyJasper, should go do so right now. Here is how you find them since the FF witch hunt removed Liz from this site - ohjaspermyjasper ~dot~ blogspot ~dot~ com.

WARNING:

This story is intended for an adult audience! There is crude speech, hate speech and adult sexual subject matter of a homosexual nature. If you are under 18 stop reading now!

AU/AH/OC/Non Magical

All characters from Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. I just take them out and play with them.

There are actual Arsenal football club players as characters in this book. Real People. Much as I would like to, I do not know them. I do not know anything about them. Their personalities and sexual orientations, as depicted herein, are entirely fictional. I only know their names, what they do and where they come from. Their families, spouses, or children, if any, are entirely fictional and made up by me.

All characters from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just play with them too.

---

Chapter 9: Varna

The dreaded little De Havilland Dash 8 stopped vibrating itself apart just as soon as it was airborne. Helena had giggled herself crazy by that time. She sat beside Greg, who was somewhat less amused. During the short flight to Vienna, Helena was all over the plane. She sat with Greg for take off, but went to sit with Viktor and even Kieran during the flight. While Helena occupied his seat, Lukasz sat with Andrey and Viktor sat with his partner. All the men were dressed casually in shorts and polo shirts, save Kieran, who wore a tee shirt, and Andrey, who wore jeans. Greg moved over into Helena's window seat as Viktor joined him.

"We be in Varna in just few hours," Viktor smiled at his lover and took his hand. Greg smiled back at Viktor. He knew how much this meant to his partner.

"It's too bad we don't get to see your family more often," Greg mused. "Especially your mum."

"Maika love you both," Viktor squeezed Greg's hand.

"The feeling is quite mutual. I love all your family. Your sister is a good mum too. And there's another thing. It would be nice for Lene to be closer to her cousin. They get on so well," Greg pointed out.

"When I leave Arsenal, we move to Varna," Viktor suggested.

"Not while Lene is still in school. Still," Greg thought a moment. "It might be nice to semi retire in Varna. We could get a house on the outskirts maybe. Almost like living in the country. And certainly the boys are especially cute," he smiled.

"You just look this boy," Viktor gestured to himself.

"Oh, I am. What do you think brings me to that conclusion?" Greg smiled at his partner.

Viktor lifted Greg's hand to his face and kissed it. "We get big house in country for when we have grandchildren," he gave a nod.

"Planning for lots of grandchildren are we?" Greg asked.

"You no want grandchildren?" Viktor asked.

"Well, of course I do, but our little girl is still a little girl. She has her whole life ahead of her. I am not going to be one of those parents who pressures his daughter to get married and make babies," Greg stressed.

"You no think I do that?" Viktor asked. Hurt was plain on his face.

"No, of course not, Vik. You are the best father I have ever seen. I was just making the point. I know we're on the same page with this. Really, I can't wait to be a grandparent with you some day," Greg leaned his head on Viktor's shoulder. Viktor kissed the top of his lover's head. Then Greg started to laugh.

"Why you laugh?" Viktor asked.

"I was just thinking ahead. In order for us to become grandfathers, our little girl is going to have to meet herself a boy someday," Greg explained. "I was just trying to picture some poor kid coming round to call on Helena and trying to get through you."

"He have to be scholar, from very good family," Viktor began. "Maybe royal, so he know how to treat princess. No long hair. No falling down trousers. Clean and respectful. Then I let him in house."

"That's the criteria just to advance to the interrogation stage?" Greg smiled.

"Da," Viktor confirmed. "Then he better spin me tale about never wanting sex with anyone," he stressed.

"When Lene's a teenager I'm sure teenage boys who are not at all interested in sex will line up at our door," Greg teased.

"That fine," Viktor nodded.

"And they'll ride over on their unicorns. We'll have to put up a hitching post, I suppose. And just incidentally, these nonexistent teenage boys who ride unicorns and are not interested in sex, are not exactly conducive to the plan wherein we become grandfathers," Greg pointed out with a barely contained smile.

"You think you smart guy, use your big brain," Viktor shook his head. Greg squeezed Viktor's hand as he laughed.

"Still, I do know what you mean," Greg conceded. "I don't think I'll be ready for Lene to have sexual relations 'till she's thirty."

"Maybe we be grandfathers when we eighty," Viktor chuckled.

"I doubt it's going to work out that way. Of one thing we can be absolutely certain. The first time she has sex, she is not going to ask for permission, or enquire as to what we think on the subject," Greg pointed out.

"We have to raise her be careful, be responsible," Viktor stated.

"And we are, Sweet. We are," Greg rubbed his lover's strong arm. It was a very short flight to Vienna and the announcement came to fasten seat belts as they noticeably began to descend. Greg stood up as best he could beneath the overhead bin, to look into the seats behind them.

"Are you ready to come back to your seat, little miss?" Greg leaned on the back of his own seat.

"No," Helena answered simply from the window seat behind her fathers.

"Kieran might like to sit beside Lukasz when we land," Greg pointed out.

"It's okay," Kieran spoke up from where he sat beside her. He looked across the aisle to his partner who watched him carefully. "It's okay," he repeated and reached out to Lukasz. The Pole took his hand and held it a moment while they smiled lovingly into each other's eyes.

"We're having fun, aren't we," Kieran snuggled Helena.

"Yes!" she enthused.

"Alright, then," Greg sat back down. "She's found another playmate."

"Is okay. I get my Grigor," Viktor took his lover's hand again.

In only a few more minutes the small aircraft bounced it's way down the runway at Vienna International. Once on the ground, the incredible vibration from the turboprops was back. Helena made a noise in her throat and let the vibration of the plane make it a rattling hum that she felt in her chest. Kieran joined his deeper timbre to hers. Greg and Viktor chuckled as they could clearly hear it from the seats right in front of them. They made their noise all the way to the gate and the propellers finally began to wind down. Then they both giggled themselves silly.

"Mercy," Greg muttered as he released his seat belt. Viktor only smiled as he did the same. He led the procession off the plane, down the aircraft steps and onto the tarmac. Helena was right behind him and gleefully jumped off the last step. Greg followed her, Lukasz led Kieran by the hand, and Andrey was the last in their little group. The adults walked, while Helena skipped ahead of them, into the terminal building and up the steps to the gate area. Helena held Greg's hand as the group headed for main airport from the Terminal One Annex where the small regional aircraft gates were located. The concourse sloped upward and opened up in a large area with cafés and shops. Here the friends were forced to part company.

"Have a good time, Viktor," Kieran gave his bigger teammate a hug.

"And you, Kieran. Enjoy Poland," Viktor hugged the smaller man tightly.

"Thanks for letting me monopolize your daughter," Kieran moved to Greg.

"I think it was rather the other way round, but any time, mate," Greg gave the younger man a warm hug.

"Take good care our boy," Viktor hugged Lukasz.

"Always I do," Lukasz traded strong claps on the back with Viktor

"And you," Kieran squatted down to welcome Helena into his arms. "Have a good time with your grandma."

"I will. I hope I'll see you soon," Helena hugged Kieran for all she was worth.

"I hope so too," Kieran held the side of his face to the top of her head.

"Come here, Andrey," Viktor pulled the lone straight man into his arms. "Have good time with family in Russia."

"Same to you," Andrey hugged Viktor back. Until his teammate reached down to grab his jean clad ass. "Nyet, nyet," Andrey pushed Viktor away. "Keep eye on this one, Greg," Andrey moved to his teammate's partner.

"I will," Greg chuckled.

"Let my Grigor feel fine Russian backside," Viktor moved his lover's hand down to Andrey's ass. Andrey did not fight this time. He just rolled his eyes in Greg's arms.

"That is a fine Russian backside," Greg commented.

"Does everyone want feel my arse?" Andrey asked. Lukasz and Kieran were quick to join Greg with a hand on Andrey's butt. Even Helena reached up to pat the Russian.

"I can't wait tell my father four gay men molest me in Vienna airport," Andrey shook his head. Viktor and Lukasz laughed the loudest and clapped the straight man on his back.

"Safe flight, my friends," Viktor bid.

"Da svi' daniya," Andrey gave a wave.

"Bezpiecznej podróży," Lukasz bid them a safe trip in Polish.

"Bye," Kieran waved. All of them spilt up. Andrey would fly on Austrian to Saint Petersburg Pulkovo, Lukasz and Kieran would fly Lufthansa to Berlin Tegel, and Viktor, Greg and Helena would continue on Tyrolean to Varna Letishte. Fortunately for the men with the child whose little pink princess backpack was suddenly a great and terrible burden, their next gate was not far. Helena leaned forward in her valiant attempt to bear the tremendous weight. She grunted under the massive strain.

"Come, Princess, is not far," Viktor took her hand.

"Daddy, it's soheavy," Helena moaned.

"You can do it," Viktor encouraged.

"Oh, here's Brahms and Liszt," Greg noticed. "I'm going to get a pound of the Julius Meinl coffee to take with us and arrange to ship a load home."

"Da, good," Viktor nodded.

"Then maybe I'll get some lovely Viennese pastries from Café Melange over there for us to enjoy. You go on. I'll be there directly," Greg bid.

"Okay, Slunchitze. Come, Princess," Viktor took a step, but Helena dug in her heels.

"Wait! Where are you going, Daddy?" Helena looked to Greg with fear in her little blue eyes.

"Just a quick bit of shopping. I'll be right behind you with goodies," Greg assured.

"No," she shook her head.

"You don't want a nice pastry?" Greg asked.

"I don't want to leave you here!" Helena was as loathe to let her fathers out of her sight in an airport as they were her.

"It'll be fine, Lene," Greg assured.

"It won't!" Helena made a fist to emphasize her point.

"We stay with daddy," Viktor moved toward Greg. This time Helena was right at his side. She quickly took Greg's hand as well and the little family proceeded into the shops. Greg shipped home coffee for them and Vince, obtained one for Viktor's mother and purchased enough pastries for them to enjoy and take some along to the mother-in-law as well. Viktor and Greg had a cup of the excellent coffee at the café, while Helena had an apple juice.

And then she had to go to the bathroom.

Viktor led her into the men's room this time, turning her head away from the occupied urinals and stood outside her door. Greg took a piss himself and then switched off with his partner outside their daughter's stall so that Viktor could do the same.

Soon they were aboard the Fokker 100 and in the air en route to Bulgaria. As jet aircraft went it was tiny, but larger than the De Havilland on which they arrived. It was a single cabin plane with two seats on one side of the aisle and three on the other. Helena sat between her fathers on the three seat side and contented herself with her Leapster. The close to two hour flight passed without incident and before long they were landing in Varna. Helena opened her seat belt and climbed into Greg's lap to look out his window with him. Greg held her tightly in his lap while they both took in the beautiful countryside around the Black Sea as they came in to land. Viktor's heart swelled with joy to see the two people he loved so much, the two people who were his whole world, so happy and excited to be arriving in his homeland. He gave them a most loving and grateful smile, but they didn't see it. Greg and Helena were busy pointing out everything they saw to each other. In another few minutes they were on the ground.

Varna Litishte was no larger than Graz Thalerhof, but here the aircraft did not pull up to any building. The planes parked on a wide apron off the single runway. The hatch of their Fokker 100 did not swing open, but slid out and aside toward the front of the jet. A small set of steps was pushed up to the plane and the passengers descended them to the tarmac. Helena took great pleasure in, once again, leaping off the last step. Two big buses were waiting to drive the passengers to the terminal. The airport was one long single story building with ticket counters and departure gates at one end, baggage claim and rental car counters at the other, and a small shop and questionable restaurant in the center. It was a Soviet era airport and looked it. Greg and Helena followed Viktor off the bus at the tarmac side curb and into the terminal. There was an almost constant announcement blaring in Bulgarian that was just so much harsh noise to Greg and Helena's ears.

"Come, is this way," Viktor took Helena's hand and led his family to the baggage belt on which would soon come their luggage. "I will get rental car. You can wait here?"

"We'll be fine," Greg assured. They had all done this in this airport before. Viktor was back with keys to their rental before the baggage belt even started up the last time, and this time proved to be no different. Eventually they had their bags. Viktor placed his duffel on top of the big rolling suitcase and set off. Greg, with carry on bag slung over his shoulder and child in hand, followed his partner. They all knew where they were going. The Avis Europe bronze color Opel Antara toy SUV, surprisingly enough, had leather seats, but was still a manual transmission. As Europeans themselves, Greg and Viktor thought nothing of it. Both could drive it, but only one would. Greg would never try to drive here and not just because they drove on the wrong side of the road. If there were traffic laws here, they were indiscernible to the Brit. Viktor loaded their bags into the back while Helena and Greg got in the vehicle. Greg first helped their daughter shrug off her backpack. She needed no help climbing up into the car and up into her booster seat.

"Do you need help with the belt?" Greg asked.

"No, Daddy," Helena demonstrated by buckling herself in.

"Here you go," Greg handed her backpack to her and shut her in. He opened his own door and climbed in as well. "This is rather nice, isn't it?" Greg admired.

"I like it," Helena agreed. She made herself comfortable and set her backpack up beside her to have her belongings handy. In just another moment Viktor took the wheel.

"We are ready?" Viktor asked with a broad smile.

"No," Greg answered flatly.

"What wrong?" Viktor was suddenly concerned.

Greg could not stop the smile from spreading across his face. "We need a kiss first."

"Always have kiss for you," Viktor put a hand to his lover's face as they leaned toward each other. Viktor gave Greg several soft, loving kisses on his lips.

"Me too!" Helena unbuckled herself and jumped out of her seat.

"Daddy have kiss for whole family," Viktor grabbed his little girl and gave her kisses all over her giggling little face. "Now we go," he started the Antara and pulled out of the parking space.

"Put your seat belt back on, Lene. You know how daddy drives," Greg cautioned as he did so himself.

"Da, put on belt, but I am safe. I know these roads," Viktor dismissed. They drove out of the airport at breakneck speed, like every other car on the road. The airport was close to the city and it was only a few miles into the heart of Varna, but that gave Greg no comfort. Other insane drivers were only the half of Greg's worry. They, like Viktor, had to work to dodge the significant and plentiful potholes even as they tried to avoid colliding with each other.

"Oh!" Greg grabbed hold of his seat and the handle over his door as Viktor very narrowly avoided swiping an oncoming car. It would not be the last time both lanes of traffic would try to use the center to steer away from the disintegrating edges of the road.

"Why you yell?" Viktor asked, perfectly calm. "We not hit car."

"We came bloody close!" Greg exclaimed.

"Close not count. Hit or no hit. I no hit. Am very good driver," Viktor assured with confidence.

"Try to remember you have a child in the car," Greg reminded. Helena clapped and laughed from the backseat as Viktor swerved to straddle a pothole that looked like it could have swallowed half their SUV.

"See? Is no problem," Viktor soothed.

"Is it possible the roads are in even worse condition than last time?" Greg asked.

"You know, five hundred years we under Turkish yoke," Viktor used the excuse that every Bulgarian had been taught since infancy to use to excuse any deficiency.

"Are they still in charge of the roads?" Greg was flip.

"That very funny," Viktor gave a deadpan look to Greg that made it clear he was being sarcastic. In the moment he took his eyes off the road they banged through another pothole and Helena laughed again. Then she noticed how her backpack slid so easily off the seat. Helena released her seat belt and climbed down to retrieve her backpack. The next big bump bounced her onto the floor and she giggled gleefully.

"Helena, get back in your seat right now," Greg was firm. Helena knew when her father used her full first name, and by his tone, that he meant business.

"Daddy, my backpack fell down," Helena felt compelled to explain.

"Nevermind about the backpack. Get back in your seat, fasten your belt, and stay there," Greg insisted.

"Princess, get back in seat, please," Viktor reinforced even as she did so.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Helena clicked her seatbelt together. "I'm fastened in now."

"Thank you, Lene," Greg spoke in a much softer tone to let her know that it was okay. "Please stay right there until we get to grandmummy's house."

"I will," Helena pledged.

Viktor slowed down only a little as they closed in on the center of the old city. Greg looked forward again and noticed that they were rapidly approaching an intersection. Like any ancient city, often several roads and streets came together. Such was the case here. Greg could see that there were two other cars heading into the intersection from two other directions at the same time as them and none of them were stopping.

"Ah!" Greg cried out. Like it had been carefully choreographed and well rehearsed, all three cars shot into the intersection at once, flew around each other at speed, and kept going like it was perfectly normal, which to them it was.

"Why you yell?" Viktor asked again as they barreled up the next street.

"Because my life flashed before my eyes!" Greg exclaimed. "Your mum will take one look at my shorts and know what happened."

"What you mean?" Viktor asked.

"When I piss myself from fright!" Greg answered.

"You not piss yourself," Viktor chuckled. He took the next sharp corner much too fast and looked at Greg out of the corner of his eye with a smirk on his face.

"You did that deliberately! Would it be a terrible imposition to slow down?" Greg asked.

"Slunchitze, is okay if you not know how to drive here. Leave to me," Viktor reached over to rub Greg's thigh.

"Mind the wheel, please," Greg requested.

"We almost there. Excited to see Baba?" Viktor called back.

"Oh, yes!" Helena enthused.

The ever narrowing streets brought them ever deeper into the old city. Everywhere there was evidence of buildings once grand. Facades were cracked and brick work exposed. In a few spots they could see the slow renaissance that tourism brought, beginning to restore the grandeur and reverse the decay. The process had only just begun and had a very long way to go.

---

She sat out on her front porch, such a porch as it was. The house itself sat directly on the old and crumbling narrow sidewalk. Part of the front of the house had been recessed to make a small front porch, but that was far more years ago than the lady in her early fifties was old. She sat in one of the two little wicker chairs her son had purchased for her to adorn her little porch. There was just enough room for the matching tiny table and small settee. In nice weather like this she actually liked to sit out here. She enjoyed talking to her neighbors as they passed by. One in particular knew everything about the goings on of everyone on their street and was only too happy to share what she knew. Mother Krum was not quite portly, but far from thin. Her permed brown hair was now mostly gray, but she didn't care. She wore a flower print dress and an apron tied about her waist. She was forever in her apron. When she didn't make time to sit out front, she was in her kitchen, as she had been most of the day. There was always food in the Krum house and far more than the mother and one child she had left at home could ever eat. Friends knew it and stopped by frequently. Especially friends of her son, who always knew where they could get a good and hearty meal. Iskra Krum didn't mind at all. She was happy to feed hungry boys.

Iskra looked up expectantly as a vehicle came down her street. The little car that drove quickly by had only the driver and was obviously not the one she was waiting for. She looked at her watch and gave a sigh. Iskra knew her first born and his family's flight was supposed to land at four thirty. It was now approaching five thirty. A bronze Opel Antara came flying up the street and quickly slowed down. Iskra recognized the occupants at once and was up out of her chair in a flash. Viktor stopped the car and just parked in the middle of the street. The man Iskra considered to be her other son-in-law emerged from the passenger side door with a big smile.

"Grigor!" Iskra ran to him.

"Hi, mum," Greg greeted as she threw her arms around him. He knew she liked it when he called her the British word for mother. He hugged her snugly as she rubbed his back.

"Where Helena?!" Iskra called even as the child opened the back door, clamoring to get out.

"Baba!" Helena cried. She leaped from the car right into her grandmother's delighted arms. Iskra laughed and hugged the child tightly.

"Let me look you," Iskra set Helena down on her feet. "So big!"

Viktor walked around the car by that time. He opened his arms, "Maika."

"Syn," Iskra was enveloped in Viktor's big hug and he lifted her off of her feet as he did it. "Oh!" she hit her oldest son on his shoulder until he put her down. He didn't care one bit.

"No leave car in street. Get things. Come inside," Iskra instructed. She took Helena by the hand and went up the two steps onto the little porch while Greg and Viktor set about transferring the luggage from the Antara to the porch. The house sat on a corner and Viktor parked the car around on this even smaller street as Greg moved the luggage into the house.

The living room was fairly spacious for a very old home, though nothing the size of theirs in their flat in London. The furniture, while not shabby or worn, was lived in and every available space was covered with hand made lace. Greg had always admired the low, dark wood ceiling beams. Identical vertical beams lined the entry ways to each room and the stairwell. Like any proud parent, her walls were adorned mostly with pictures of her children when they were kids and as adults with their own families. It made Greg smile to see the one taken last Christmas of him and Viktor and Helena hung right beside one of Viktor's sister, husband and their daughter. The same one hung in the lounge of his parents inn in Scarborough. It also made Greg very proud to see a picture of his famous footballer in his Arsenal kit and beautiful smile, standing on the pitch with a ball under one arm. The man's mother could be no more proud of him than his partner.

Iskra patted Greg on his upper arm, "We have coffee."

"Oh, I'm very glad you mentioned that. We have a few small things for you," Greg started to unpack right there in the living room. He handed her the Café Melange box first. "Some pastries from Vienna. That's just for you. And some wonderful coffee for all of us," Greg produced the bag of ground coffee.

"Very nice. Is good?" Iskra asked.

"Very good," Greg confirmed. Viktor walked in the front door at that moment.

"Where Kliment?" Viktor asked.

"Oh. He sleeping," Iskra walked to the stairs. "Kliment! Come down. Viktor is here!" she called in Bulgarian while smacking her hand on the wood post. Greg gave a start when she did that. He had forgotten how loud Bulgarians could be. His own Bulgarian was much toned down after so many years in the UK. Viktor saw this and put an arm around his lover with a big smile. Greg just gave a grin and shrugged.

"He sleep through bomb, that boy," Iskra switched back to English.

Viktor let go of his partner and walked over to the stairs. "Kliment!" he pounded on the post with his fist. "That get him up."

"I make coffee," Iskra took the bag and her box of pastries back into the kitchen.

"Can I help you, Baba?" Helena skipped after her grandmother.

"Da, you help me!" Iskra was delighted.

A twenty year old man came down the stairs from the second floor on his bare feet. The younger version of Viktor wore only a pair of boxers and, like his older brother, had only a light dusting of hair between his pecs and a wider swath of fur that ran down from his belly button. Kliment gave a sleepy yawn as he ran a hand through his sleep mussed hair.

"You hear me?" Viktor smiled.

"In Sofia they hear you," Kliment complained. Viktor hugged his brother and both grunted as they tried to squeeze the life out of each other. They broke apart with hard claps on the back.

"Come here, Grigor," Kliment grabbed Greg next.

"Hi, Kliment," Greg hugged his bother-in-law and was grateful that the man was much more gentle with him.

"You have good trip?" Kliment asked as they broke apart.

"Until we got in the car just now," Greg admitted.

"Zahshto?" Kliment could not imagine what might have been wrong on the drive from the airport.

"They not drive like us in UK," Viktor clarified.

"How they drive?" Kliment bid.

"Like Maika," Viktor teased. Greg made a face at him while Kliment laughed. Helena came bounding in from the kitchen.

"Uncle Kliment!" Helena stopped suddenly and put a hand to her face as she thought hard. "I mean, cheecho Kliment!" she remembered. Kliment squatted down and she flew into his arms.

"You so smart momichentse," Kliment received her warm hug and kiss on his cheek. "How many language you speak?"

"Oh," Helena had never considered that. "Two!" she exclaimed. She didn't really, of course. Like her British father she only knew a few Bulgarian words, but none of the adults corrected her.

"Kliment, you have coffee?" Iskra asked as she walked out of the kitchen. Then she caught sight of her youngest son in only boxers. "Oh! Go put on clothes!"

"Zahshto, Maika? Is just family," Kliment protested. He raised his arms to defend himself as his mother started to swear at him in Bulgarian and hit him with the kitchen towel she had in her hand. "Da, da, I go," Kliment jumped out of her reach and charged up the stairs. Iskra shook her exasperated head. Viktor stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled.

"We put coffee. Come, come," Iskra summoned.

"We sit outside, Maika," Viktor announced as he walked into the kitchen.

"Da, we sit outside," Iskra agreed.

"Shall I take the bags upstairs?" Greg asked.

"No. I take," Viktor came back out into the living room and began to pick up the luggage. He took the two heavy bags and headed up the stairs. Greg took what was left and followed. The room that was once Viktor's was now Kliment's. Greg tried very hard as they passed it not to look at his partner's younger brother who stood facing away from them wearing only a tight tank top. The room that had once been Vladimira's was now a guest room that was just big enough for the double bed and a single bedside table. They both placed their burdens on the bed and Greg set about opening the big suitcase. He hung up their suits and dress shirts on what was less a closet and more a corner rack. Kliment appeared in their doorway wearing black sport shorts with his tank top.

"Ready for church," Kliment gestured with his chin toward the suits Greg had just hung up.

"Da," Viktor confirmed. "You get grapes?"

"Da," Kliment nodded.

"Come," Viktor took Greg's hand. "We leave rest for later," he led Greg back downstairs and Kliment followed.

Once they had their mugs, and an Orangina for Helena, they went back outside onto the little porch. Helena sat with her grandmother on the little settee while her fathers took the twin chairs.

"Why we outside?" Kliment asked.

"Is nice day," Viktor answered.

Kliment just gave a shrug and sat on the steps. "This good coffee. Where you get?"

"It's Julius Meinl from Austria," Greg answered.

"I like. You send more," Kliment gestured with his mug.

"I send you kick in arse," Viktor threatened.

"You not so much bigger than me. I no more take govno from you," Kliment boasted. He made a fist and flexed his bicep to emphasize his point. Viktor, ever so slowly, stood up. Kliment did not, but straightened defensively, ready to jump if needs be. Iskra yelled at them in Bulgarian. Greg did not understand a word of it, but was sure he agreed.

"Yes, please let's we not have a roll around in the street wrestling match," Greg added.

"You lucky Grigor and Maika here to protect you," Viktor sat back down. Iskra was close enough to her eldest son to whap him on his upper arm with the back of her hand. Viktor did not even notice it.

"I no need protect," Kliment boasted and took a sip of his coffee.

"You no think?" Viktor was not about to let his little brother have the last word.

"Nyama!" Iskra demanded and both her sons complied, almost. They both looked at each other and nodded slowly.

"You two are so competitive," Greg observed.

"Elena, when you start school?" Iskra asked, changing to a more pleasant subject.

"Daddy, when do I start?" Helena asked.

"First of next month," Greg answered for her.

"Do you see school?" Iskra asked further.

"Do I see it?" Helena tilted her head as she looked up at her grandmother. She did not understand the question.

"Baba means if you've been to see your school," Greg helped to translate.

"Da," Iskra confirmed.

"Oh, yes!" Helena enthused.

"The Fox School is really charming and only three blocks from the flat. It's the other side of Notting Hill Gate road, though, so she won't ever be walking there without an adult," Greg elaborated. "We went to see it with Helena's little friend Emily and her mum."

"Just mums," Kliment found himself very funny. Viktor stood up again. This time Kliment jumped up and out onto the sidewalk out of reach.

"Are you mum?" Kliment laughed as he pointed at his big brother. Viktor took a step toward Kliment and the younger man danced further away out into the street.

"Vik, he's just being cute. Come sit," Greg soothed.

"My dasteria have two tatee," Viktor held up a hand with thumb and forefinger extended.

"I just cute," Kliment held up his hands.

"Nyama!" Iskra commanded again.

"Come sit, Vik," Greg reached out to him.

"He be cute when I put his face on street," Viktor threatened as he sat back down beside his partner.

"You be cute when I knock head together!" Iskra warned.

"Spri, Viktor. You make Maika angry," Kliment returned to his seat on the steps.

"I make," Viktor shook his head.

"Don't fight, Tatee," Helena looked up at Viktor with big eyes.

"Tatee not really fight with cheecho, Princess. We just play," Viktor assured his daughter with a smile as he reached to rub her shoulder.

"Tell more about school," Iskra prompted.

"I love it. I can't wait to go!" Helena was excited.

"Emily's mum Claire and I met the Headmaster and took a tour of the whole place," Greg added. "And Fox School doesn't have uniforms, which I really like. I remember how much I disliked wearing mine all those years. The children are encouraged to be themselves and express their individuality."

"I take both little princess to school while Grigor at work. Claire bring them home," Viktor put in.

"There's a breakfast for all the Fox children and parents in the school hall on the first day, so I've arranged to go in late that day," Greg continued.

"I look forward to this," Viktor nodded. "First time I see school."

"Did I tell you about their World Book Day?" Greg asked his partner.

"I no think so," Viktor shook his head.

"Every child is encouraged to bring a book, or any type of media, about their hero on that day, and even dress like them," Greg explained.

"Oh," Viktor found this a great idea. "Who your hero, Princess?"

"You can't guess?" Greg asked.

Helena looked at her father with big eyes and a most innocent expression. She could not imagine how her father did not know. "You, Tatee."

Viktor's family watched his face transform. His smile faded and his jaw slowly dropped. He slid out of his chair, onto his knees and reached for his daughter. Helena was only too happy to fall off of the settee and right into his arms. Viktor said nothing. He clutched his child to him and Helena pressed her face to his chest as she held onto him. She knew no greater safety and security than her father's strong arms. Viktor was motionless for a long moment with his eyes squeezed shut as he held his daughter. Greg reached to rub his partner's broad back.

Viktor looked to Greg, "Is most beautiful thing." A tear escaped his eye.

"I know," Greg agreed softly with a smile. Viktor took hold of Greg's shirt and pulled him from his chair into a hug with them. Iskra clasped her hands to her bosom. She was most grateful to be able to witness this moment. It filled her with joy and pride to know that her son was admired and cherished as a husband and father. Kliment watched with a broad smile, and without comment. He was very happy for his brother. Viktor wiped at his eyes at last and let his family go. They all returned to their seats.

"We have to get little jersey," Viktor observed.

"I ordered a jersey with your name and number in her size," Greg informed.

"Oh, I can't wait to see!" Viktor enthused. "Thank you, Slunchitze."

"I forgot you call him slunchitze," Kliment chuckled.

"What does it mean exactly again?" Greg asked.

"It mean like small sunshine," Kliment translated.

"Little sun," Viktor corrected. "Because you are for me," he took Greg's hand.

"That's so sweet, Vik," Greg smiled. "I knew I liked it."

"When Vladimira come, Maika?" Kliment asked.

"They come soon," Iskra rose. "I have things doing in kitchen."

"No, Maika," Viktor protested. "We take to dinner tonight. We told you no cook today."

"Sweet syn," Iskra patted Viktor's shoulder. "Is for tomorrow. We go to church and have big Angliysky zakuska for my Grigor and Elena," she ran her hands down the back of Greg and Helena's heads. "Then we have nice big vecheria in afternoon, and zagoveznishka cake with fine coffee in night," Iskra outlined. She then headed into the house with her coffee cup.

"You know what she say?" Viktor asked.

"No," Helena answered.

"Angliysky zakuska is English breakfast," Viktor informed.

"Ah," Greg got it, "and I'm pretty sure vecheria is dinner."

"Dobra," Kliment gave a nod.

"He say good. Speak English, Kliment," Viktor bid. A smart little station wagon the same color as their rental came down the street at that moment and slowed down in front of the house.

"Is this them?" Greg asked.

"Is them," Kliment confirmed. He waved to the car and his sister waved back from the front passenger seat of the Fiat Croma. Helena jumped from the settee as the adults rose. They walked out into the street as the car turned the corner. They walked around the house to find their family parked right behind the Antara.

Helena took Viktor's hand and looked up at her father, "Tatee, how do I say auntie?"

"Lalya," Viktor smiled. They walked up behind the car as the passengers emerged.

Petar Stoyanov was a striking man with dark features and a sharp, square jaw. His jet black hair was not too short, but trimmed nicely and fell partially over a serious brow. He wore a form fitting vest buttoned up over a plain white tee shirt with snug jeans. His beautiful wife had a mane of rich and lustrous brown hair that fell over her shoulders. She needed little make up on her perfect skin. She wore a loose blouse with the tails tied about her waist, revealing a good amount of ample cleavage and several inches of her midsection to the top of her jeans. While her husband wore sandals, she wore high heels and still did not match his height. Their daughter Radka wore little denim coveralls over a white frilly button shirt. Her very dark hair was cut in an easy bob.

"Vladimira!" Viktor was all smiles.

"Viktor!" Vladimira rushed into her older brother's arms.

"I am so happy to see you, little sister," Viktor spoke softly in Bulgarian as he held his sister.

Helena just naturally gravitated to men. "Hi, cheecho Petar," she bounced right up to him.

"Helena, even more beautiful girl than last time," Petar squatted down to greet her. "And so big now. Radka, you remember Helena," he bid his shy daughter forward. He stood up and smiled as the little girls hugged each other.

"Grigor," Vladimira moved from her brother to his partner.

"Hi, Vladimira," Greg gave her a hug and exchanged kisses on the cheek. "It's lovely to see you," he smiled as they pulled apart.

"You too! I so happy when Viktor come home and bring his family," Vladimira rubbed Greg's shoulder.

"Hi, lalya Vladimira," Helena reached for her aunt.

"Helena, sweet momichentse," Vladimira bent down to give her a kiss. "So pretty girl!" she put a gentle hand to Helena's smiling face.

"Petar," Viktor gave his brother-in-law in a warm hug with a hard clap on the back.

"Viktor, good to see you," Petar was sincere. He well remembered what it took to win this man's approval to marry his little sister, and what it meant once he had. Viktor had walked Vladimira down the aisle when she married Petar. When they reached the altar, Viktor had grabbed a surprised Petar in a tight hug before he presented the man his bride.

"Greg," Petar made a point to say the Brit's name in English.

"Hi, Petar," Greg shared a one armed hug with the straight man.

"Look my girl!" Viktor squatted down to greet his niece. "Ti si hubava," he pulled her to his chest.

"Zdrasti, cheecho Viktor," Radka gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"Radka," Kliment called to her. He took Helena's hand and just as soon as Radka joined them in a circle all three of them began to dance around. Kliment sang while the girls giggled.

"Petar, we are in same boat," Viktor put a hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder as he shook his head.

"Da?" Petar asked.

"We both have very pretty little girl. We have ten years maybe before no more sleep at night," Viktor lamented.

"Is true!" Petar laughed as he agreed with a nod. Greg chuckled and nodded to himself. He too was certain of that. They all turned when they heard the girls in question begin to shriek. Kliment had squatted down and picked them both up. He now had a niece over each shoulder. They play screamed with their hands on his butt and kicked at the air, while he spun around in the street. He then headed for the front of the house with them still over his shoulders and the parents followed. Kliment carried the kids right into the house.

"Oh, put down," Iskra chastised. Kliment obeyed as it was his intention to do so just as soon as he got inside the house anyway.

"Petar," Iskra reached for him and stretched to give him a kiss. "Now have all my boy," she patted her son-in-law on the cheek.

"Zdrasti, Maika," Vladimira gave her mother a casual kiss on the cheek. Iskra said nothing, but patted her daughter's cheek as well.

"Radka, you have kiss for cheecho Grigor?" Vladimira asked.

"Da!" Radka ran over to Greg. "I sorry, cheecho Grigor," she reached up to him. Greg sat down on the nearest chair and welcomed his niece into his arms.

"Quite alright, my darling girl," Greg hugged her warmly. "Let me look at you now. I swear, you get prettier every time I see you," he kissed her on the cheek. She did the same to him, and dashed back to Helena and Kliment.

"Where we go to dinner? I starve," Viktor rubbed his stomach.

"I starve also," Kliment spoke up.

"You always starve," Vladimira gave a dismissive wave.

"I make reservation at Zaliva," Petar informed. Petar and Viktor were the same age, but as the oldest male in the local family, Iskra, Vladimira and Kliment just naturally looked to his leadership.

"Is that the seafood place, the one down on the water?" Greg asked.

"Da. Is good," Viktor stated.

"I know you both like," Petar smiled. None of them wanted a restaurant with traditional Bulgarian cuisine as they could find none better anywhere than they could get at home.

"Let's go," Kliment urged.

"We have time. Reservation is not for while yet," Petar informed.

"I need get ready. You change too," Iskra pointed at her youngest child as she headed up the stairs. Without warning and entirely without provocation, Viktor landed a hard punch on Kliment's upper arm. It startled the younger man more than it hurt him and Kliment punched his brother back in the same place as hard as he could before he dashed up the stairs behind their mother. Viktor just chuckled while Greg shook his head. Petar and Vladimira thought nothing of it.

"Maybe we get drinks, if table not ready. Get something quick for little ones," Petar suggested.

"Are princess hungry?" Viktor asked both girls.

"Yes, Tatee," Helena answered. Kliment was back down in a flash in cargo shorts and a short sleeved button shirt that he wore untucked. Iskra however, was another matter. She wanted to put on a different dress and the simple strand of pearls her son had given her, and primp her hair. When she finally made it downstairs, Iskra found Kliment wearing Helena on his back and Viktor doing the same with Radka.

"We ready?" Viktor asked.

"Da, da," Iskra picked up her big purse. The two men carried the giggling kids piggy back out the front door and the rest of the adults followed. Viktor took the wheel of the Antara and even though Greg offered to let her sit in front, Iskra sat in the back with Radka. Kliment and Helena sat in the backseat of the Croma while Vladimira sat beside her husband. Viktor waited for his brother-in-law to pull out and took up behind him as they headed for the sea. Once on the waterfront, it took more time to find parking than it did to drive down there.

Zaliva was a particular favorite of Greg's. Finer waterfront dinning could not be found anywhere. At two and a half leva to the pound sterling, it was also quite reasonable. The open air restaurant sat within what was made to look like ancient Roman walls. There were two dinning areas, the first in what appeared to be a hollowed out galleon with a canvas roof that was more formal with fine linens and upholstered chairs, and a second that was less formal with wood tables and chairs a few steps down right on the sand of the beach. Both had the same menu. They had their choice when they arrived and opted sit out on the sand. Petar ordered a round of plum rakia for the adults with a shopska salad and apple juice for the kids, even as they were handed their menus. Bulgarian meals just normally started out this way and it never occurred to him that anyone might think otherwise. Greg didn't mind. This was a part of his partner's culture and he loved it. The most of the menu changed every day based on what was caught and brought in by local fishermen only that morning. The tomato, cucumber, pepper and goat cheese salad, plated individually, arrived at the same time as their rakia.

Petar raised his glass, "Nazdravie!"

Viktor put his arm around Greg and pulled him close. "Family," he added.

"Nazdravie," Kliment agreed. Petar, Viktor and Kliment took a gulp of the fiery liquid, while everyone else took a sip. They had plenty more time to peruse the menu as their waiter was busy lighting the tiki torches around the beach dining room. It was just as well that they ordered course by course, one at the time. Even Greg knew of the Bulgarian custom of courses coming to the table entirely at random and rarely in order. The ladies switched to white wine after their initial rakia while the men opted for beer. Greg ordered his favorite Bulgarian lager Almus, while Petar favored Zagorka and the Krum brothers remained true to the local MM Varna beer. All four men found they were very thirsty and their beers fitted them just right. The waiter brought a second round quickly without even being asked. Greg made up his mind right then that he would see that this man received a generous tip.

Greg watched Viktor interact with his family. Certainly they were very different from his own very British, and markedly quieter, family in North Yorkshire. The Krum family was loud, but not vulgar. They had only love for one another. Even when the two very competitive brothers threatened repeatedly to beat each other up, it was only their way of expressing their love for each other. Despite their boasts, and the occasional punch, they both knew they were only playing. These were good people. Greg counted himself and his daughter lucky to be included among their number. Testament to their good and loving nature was the fact that he and Helena were both just as much a part of this family as Petar and Radka. Viktor and Helena were just the same, every bit as much a part of the Goyle family. Greg reasoned that it was perhaps less remarkable in Scarborough, where the city was among the first in the UK to sponsor an annual gay pride picnic in a central city park, than in a deeply religious place like this country. It just made the Krum family all the more amazing in Greg's eyes.

He smiled as he watched his partner engage in a hearty laugh over something Petar and Kliment were talking about. The more they drank, the louder they grew, but so did every other table out on the sand. Greg was not able to make out what they were talking about. They made every effort to speak in English for his benefit, for which Greg was very grateful, but when they could not translate the word they wanted to use quickly in their head, they used the appropriate Bulgarian word. Viktor made a point to translate for Greg, but he didn't always notice it. Greg didn't mind. It was only important for him that Viktor enjoy himself and get as much out of his time with his family as he possibly could. Living in London, they did not get to see them nearly as often as they would all like.

Dinner was a slow, multi-course elaborate affair. As the hour grew late Radka fell asleep on her mother, only because her father was engaged in much more boisterous and animated discussion. Helena fell asleep on Greg for exactly the same reason. Eventually it was time go. Viktor paid the check and Greg carried Helena while Vladimira handed Radka off to her father. The cars were a block and a half up from the beach.

"We say goodnight now," Vladimira gave everyone a kiss while her husband laid their daughter in her seat in the backseat of the Croma.

"We see you for church in morning," Iskra rubbed her daughter's back. "No be late."

"Da, Maika," Vladimira agreed.

"Leka nošt, Maika," Petar gave his mother-in-law a kiss and a wave to everyone else. Iskra just patted his cheek. They continued on to the Antara as Petar, Vladimira and Radka drove off into the night. They lived a half hour drive to the north, but at this hour it would not take that long. Their new subdivision was a good ten miles inland, but higher in the hills such that from their back porch and yard they had an excellent view to the Black Sea. Greg placed Helena in her seat and sat beside her. Iskra joined him in the backseat while Kliment sat in front with his brother. Greg was not overly concerned that his partner had been drinking and was now behind the wheel. Certainly he knew these roads well. It was barely a mile home, and if he drove badly, no one in Bulgaria would ever be able to tell. Viktor parked around the side of the house on the even smaller side street and lifted a peacefully sleeping Helena out of her seat. Kliment let them into the house and locked up behind them.

"Who want beer?" Kliment asked.

"Let me just put princess to bed," Viktor agreed.

"You no stay up all night. Church in morning," Iskra warned.

"Da, Maika. We not up late," Viktor assured. He followed his mother up the stairs.

"Greg, I have Almus for you," Kliment informed.

"Aren't you just a lovely boy," Greg smiled.

"Viktor tell me ten time make sure I have for you," Kliment walked into the kitchen and Greg followed. "But I still lovely boy," he gave a grin as he extracted three bottles from the fridge. Greg just smiled and shook his head.

"I'm sure all the girls in Varna would agree," Greg accepted his opened bottle.

"Not all, but I work on it," Kliment touched his bottle to Greg's and they both took a gulp. They heard Viktor come down the stairs and Kliment handed his brother a bottle as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

"Blagodarya," Viktor took his bottle. All three men sat at the kitchen table.

"Blagodarya for dinner," Kliment countered. "Both of you."

"Glad to do it, mate. It's just so nice to be back here with everyone," Greg stated.

"Da," Viktor agreed with a nod.

"You away too long," Kliment observed.

"We think so too. Though, mind you, we would love to have all of you visit us in London," Greg pointed out.

"Da, come to London," Viktor put his fist to Kliment's shoulder and gave him a shove.

"You have pretty girls in London like nice Bulgarian straight boy?" Kliment smiled.

"We have loads of pretty girls in London," Greg stated.

"But they no like you," Viktor teased.

"You no think so?" Kliment asked with a smirk.

"I could probably name several dozen women right off the top of my head at the BBC who would love to get a taste of you," Greg alluded. "Some are a good bit older than you though."

"That fine. I like older woman," Kliment enthused. "Older woman know what she want in bedroom. Is very good sex every time. I like little," he didn't know the word and just patted his hip, "and big tsitsi."

"Well, we'll see what we can do," Greg laughed.

"What about boss?" Viktor asked.

"My boss? Connie? She's old enough to be his mother," Greg observed.

"She eat little straight boy alive," Viktor threatened with a wag of his eyebrow.

"I like. When I come?" Kliment was all smiles.

"Very shortly after you meet Connie, I suspect," Greg could not resist the easy pun. Viktor got it and laughed.

"What?" Kliment was in the dark.

"You come to London any time you want," Viktor gave a nod. "We take good care of you."

"I dream of it tonight and, how you say, whip up?" Kliment asked.

"Have a wank," Greg corrected.

"Da. I have wank good," Kliment snickered. "Oh, wait," a thought occurred to him. "These walls thin. You two no fuck all night?"

"Maybe not tonight," Viktor teased.

"And maybe not the whole night. We're not as young as you are," Greg could not help himself.

"Oh," Kliment shook his head. "I sleep with pillow over head."

"Sleep with pillow over face," Viktor urged.

"I put pillow over you face," Kliment threatened.

"Come into our room and we shall pull you into bed with us," Greg countered. "How would you like that?"

"Ne," Kliment shook his head. "In this case, I no even go upstairs," he assured.

"You not even have to sleep in house. Go outside with chickens," Viktor gestured with his chin.

"I put chicken in you bed," Kliment punched Viktor on his upper arm.

"Gus," Viktor chuckled. Greg recognized the Bulgarian word for ass. Kliment tipped up his beer to finish it, set the bottle on the table and gave a loud belch.

"Leka nošt, Grigor," Kliment patted his brother-in-law on the back as he rose.

"Night, Kliment," Greg bid.

"Leka nošt, Tapak," Kliment patted his brother on the back as he walked past. Viktor just chuckled.

"Tapak?" Greg did not know this word.

"Idiot," Viktor translated.

"Oh," Greg laughed. He shook his head. "You two antagonise each other so."

"Da," Viktor agreed and drained his bottle as well. Greg just smiled and did the same.

"Come now," Greg took Viktor's hand. "Take me to bed, you big, strong, sexy tapak."

Viktor just chuckled again as he rose from the table. He gave Greg's hand a loving squeeze and led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. They went up as quietly as they were able.

"Let me just look in on Lene," Greg whispered.

"I put on light in our room," Viktor let go of Greg's hand as they parted. Greg pushed open the door that was not quite closed to what had been Kliment's childhood room. It was barely larger than a closet and held a single chest and a set of bunkbeds. Helena and her baby were sound asleep on the lower bunk. Greg smiled as he watched his peacefully sleeping child for a moment. He pulled the door back and crossed the hall. In their room Viktor stood in the light of the single lamp on the single bedside table, shirtless.

"This is how I like to find you, almost," Greg shut the door fully, and quietly, behind him. Viktor smiled as he unbuttoned his shorts and ever so slowly began to pull down the zipper.

"Would you like me to help you with that?" Greg asked with a leer.

"Oh, da. I no think I can get myself," Viktor stopped half unzipped. Greg knelt ever so reverently before his buff Bulgarian partner and took over on the zipper. He slowly lowered it the rest of the way and leaned in to give Viktor a kiss in his trimmed pubes. The meaty flesh of the big Bulgarian snake was all that kept the shorts from falling to the floor. Greg slowly eased them down until Viktor's growing hose swung free and the shorts dropped. Greg took hold of Viktor's thighs and leaned in to press his face into his lover's sex. Even more than the feel of Viktor's heavy cock along his cheek, Greg loved the scent of his lover's balls. Viktor smiled as Greg inhaled slowly and deeply.

"Bloody hell, do you smell good," Greg gave a sigh. Viktor reached down and pulled Greg up even as he pulled his lover's shirt off over his head.

"Want you naked too," Viktor unbuttoned and unzipped Greg's shorts.

"Did you get us out some boxers?" Greg looked over the bed.

"No boxer. Want be naked with you," Viktor informed.

"What if she wakes up? She'll come in here just the same as she comes into our room at home," Greg pointed out.

"Make handy maybe," Viktor conceded. He took hold of the half hard British spike as his lover's shorts fell to the floor.

"Mmm. I'll just get them out then. Lay down on the bed, my big, sexy Gunner," Greg gave Viktor a soft kiss on his lips. He then turned to the suitcase and extracted their sleepwear. Greg placed them on the small bedside table while Viktor moved the luggage to the floor.

"Your big, sexy Gunner do whatever you say," Viktor pulled the bed down. He climbed onto it and laid down on his back.

"That's what I like to hear. Put your arms up behind your head," Greg instructed. Viktor quickly obeyed.

"Spread your legs wider," Greg continued and Viktor did so. The sight of Viktor Krum stretched out naked, with his arms up behind his head and his legs spread wide, with his half hard cock laying over his hip and big, heavy shaved nuts on full display, drove Greg almost instantly to full erection.

"You like?" Viktor smiled. The look on Greg's face and his obvious arousal made the answer more than clear.

"Viktor Krum, you make my mouth water," Greg climbed onto the bed between Viktor's legs. The Gunner's bone grew further even before his lover's tongue made contact with his smooth sac.

"Hmm," Viktor closed his eyes as Greg's lips and tongue caressed his loose, shaved scrotum.

"You not only smell good," Greg gave a broad lap over Viktor's right nut. "You taste good too," he did the same to the left. Greg lifted his head to look up at his lover's face. "I want to suck your cock so badly right now."

Viktor looked down on Greg with a smirk. He took hold of himself at the base and held his hard organ up in front of Greg's face, "Then suck."

"Dare we? Everyone can hear us," Greg pointed out.

"Then just lick a bit," Viktor urged.

"Oh, you want me to lick," Greg moved forward and ran his tongue up the tall phallus along Viktor's sensitive cum tube.

"Mmm," Viktor felt as much as saw the warm, sensual tongue move up his prick.

"This beautiful cock?" Greg finished his sentence before he repeated his action.

"Da, like that," Viktor encouraged.

"I like it too," Greg agreed. Viktor closed his eyes as Greg's lips and tongue moved up and down his pole. Greg's own dick throbbed as he drew his wet lips up to Viktor's moist eye and all the way down the long shaft onto his lover's swollen eggs.

"Hah," Viktor let out his moan softly.

"Let go," Greg took hold of Viktor's wrist and pulled his hand away. "Put your hands behind your head," he instructed. Viktor smiled as he complied.

"You are so bloody sexy," Greg endorsed as he moved from between his lover's legs.

"Am I most sexy footballer?" Viktor asked with a wide grin.

"Oh, are there others?" Greg settled on Viktor's right side and leaned over him. He fastened his lips to Viktor's cum tube and took up roving his lips and tongue up and down his footballer's engorged cock.

"Ugh. Grigor, is so nice," Viktor closed his eyes as the sensual mouth moved in one continuous wet kiss up and down the sensitive side of his shaft. Every few passes Greg would descend further and take a swipe with his tongue over Viktor's smooth orbs. The serpent's eye began to drool rich, clear syrup onto the furry Bulgarian abdomen and just as soon as Greg noticed it, he made a point to include a quick slurp on his lover's head on every third pass or so.

"Feel so good," Viktor spoke with a heavy sigh. "Are you make me come?"

"Don't know," Greg left off at the snake's wet head. "Haven't thought about it," he ran his mouth down along the quivering bone to his lover's heavy stones. "I just want to do this for a while yet," Greg drew his tongue back up to Viktor's seeping head. Greg closed his mouth over just the head of his lover's joint to slurp up his precum.

"I wish you suck," Viktor urged.

"No," Greg said simply as he ran his lips and tongue back down Viktor's cum tube to his nuts and back up again. Viktor reached down and took hold of his dick with his left hand and the back of Greg's head with his right.

"Hold in mouth," Viktor commanded. "I wank for you."

"Hang on a minute," Greg moved his head back. "My big, sexy Gunner told me he would do whatever I say, right?"

"Da," Viktor admitted when it became clear that Greg was waiting for an answer.

"Put your hands behind your head," Greg instructed again.

"Da," Viktor agreed and did so.

"Better. Now, where was I?" Greg ran his tongue across Viktor's balls and up his cum tube to his drooling slit.

"Huh," Viktor gave a soft moan as his lover's lips and tongue roved up and down his shaft. Greg moved a hand across Viktor's broad chest to his left pec. He massaged the strong muscle for a moment. Greg brought his hand to his mouth to coat his thumb and forefinger with his spit, then reached back across Viktor's chest to take hold of his lover's left nipple. He teased the nipple with his slick fingers while he made love to his partner's now throbbing cock.

"Ugh," Viktor moaned a little louder. The skilled lips and tongue maintained a tormenting wet massage of his penis that drove him, albeit very slowly, ever closer to orgasm, while the slick fingers tortured his left nipple. "I want come, Grigor."

"Maybe," Greg ran his tongue through Viktor's weeping slit and took back up roving his mouth up and down the sensitive side of his lover's cock. It took every ounce of will power Greg could muster not to suck his lover's dick. He wanted Viktor's cum and to drive him to a powerful orgasm like nothing else, but at the same time he relished the feeling of power it gave him to master this Gunner's strong body and Greg wanted it to last as long as possible. Viktor, almost imperceptibly at first, began to writhe beneath Greg's ministrations.

"Slunchitze, you kill me," Viktor worked hard to be quiet as his lover tortured him. "Make me come."

"Maybe," Greg spoke with his lips still against Viktor's shaft.

"Maybe go faster," Viktor urged.

"No," Greg's tongue ran up his Viktor's sensitive cum tube. He knew he was pushing his lover ever closer to the edge by the way Viktor's big testicles pulled up to the base of the throbbing prick. Greg happily ran his tongue over them and back up the slick bone to the now profusely leaking head.

"Ugh, Grigor, I die now," Viktor pleaded. All the muscles in the strong man's entire body tensed up like a great coil set to spring. Greg felt Viktor's body begin to tremble as his cock throbbed even harder. Greg pinched Viktor's hard nipple even as he heard Viktor's breath catch in his throat. He knew he had pushed his lover right to the edge and not once touched him with his hand or taken him in his mouth. Greg focused the attention of his wet lips on Viktor's frenulum and first few inches of his lover's quivering cock.

"Hoh, oh!" Viktor choked out. Greg felt the strong cum tube expand beneath his lips. At first the clear precum readily flowing onto Viktor's abdomen just turned white. Then as Viktor's internal convulsions kicked in his semen began to squirt out onto him. Greg continued to move his loving lips on Viktor's pulsing cock as his lover's load spilled onto his stomach and abdomen. He let go of Viktor's nipple and switched hands to cup and gently massage the big nuts.

"Huh. Grigor," Viktor at last brought his hand from behind his head to place it on his partner's shoulder. His jizz no longer shot out onto him, but continued to flow as Greg continued to minister to his still rock hard penis.

"There now," Greg gave a last lap along Viktor's cum tube. "Did that feel good?"

"You kill me," Viktor panted.

"Well, if you have to die," Greg smiled. "I'm glad it could be with your beautiful cock in my mouth," he lifted Viktor's yet hard bone from where it lay in a pool of milky essence on Viktor's furry abdomen and took it finally in his mouth. The scent of Viktor's spunk was strong in the air of the small room.

"Ugh!" Viktor closed his eyes and moaned much too loudly as his lover at long last began to gently suck him. This only made Greg stop, or at least he tried to. Viktor felt Greg pull his mouth up and pushed his head back down with a strong hand. He pushed Greg down on his still hard crank until it lodged in Greg's throat and he held him there.

"Oh, Grigor," Viktor spoke to the man he held impaled on his cock. Greg didn't mind one bit. He had been fighting the urge to take Viktor down his throat the entire time. Viktor at last relaxed his grip and Greg slowly drew his mouth up and off of the big joint. Greg took a needed deep breath.

"And I thought you smelled good before," Greg gave a lap through the accumulated juice on Viktor's abdomen. "Mmm," Greg licked his lips. "I rather prefer to drink it straight from the source, but this'll do," he set about licking Viktor's jizz from his skin and fur. Viktor closed his eyes again and just relaxed in the afterglow of his orgasm and the bathing of his body with his lover's sensual tongue.

"You very bad man, Grigor Goyle," Viktor leaned up on his elbows.

"Am I?" Greg smiled up at Viktor.

"I teach you lesson," Viktor sat up further and used his strength to his advantage as he grabbed his lover and flipped him over onto the mattress on his back.

"Oh!" Greg was surprised by the sudden move. Viktor straddled Greg's lap and sat on the fat, hard bone. He gave a smirk as he felt it flex against his perineum. The Gunner felt the wetness at the tip of his lover's thick cock on the back of his balls and he liked it. Viktor leaned down and took Greg's sticky lips and cummy mouth with his own. Greg closed his eyes and moaned lightly into Viktor's mouth as the stronger man's tongue probed deeply in his mouth. The Bulgarian snake, spent and reduced though it was to half mast, gave a twitch at this. It turned Viktor on no end when Greg responded this way to his forceful kiss, not to mention the taste of him.

"I like taste my cum in your mouth," Viktor spoke softly against Greg's face.

"Is that the lesson you wanted to teach me?" Greg asked.

"No," Viktor moved down Greg's body and took hold of the fat post. "This," he took the British spike in his mouth down to Greg's trimmed pubes.

"Huh!" Greg was not prepared for the exquisite embrace of his lover's mouth around his drooling penis. "Ugh," Greg let his eyes roll back in his head as Viktor's tongue began to move against his cum tube. Viktor could not breathe with every thick inch of Greg reaching to the back of his throat, but he didn't care. There was only one thing he loved more than holding his lover's hard joint encased in his mouth, stretching his jaw, and he knew without doubt that they would both make far too much noise for that. Viktor slowly drew his mouth up Greg's shaft and held the hard spike.

"This most perfect cock in whole world," Viktor gave a slow lick through Greg's wet slit.

"I'm most pleased you like it," Greg smiled.

"Is exactly right for me. Fill my mouth just right," Viktor gave his lover a grin.

"Are we entirely certain? Mayb

you should try again, just to be sure?" Greg suggested.

"Da. I try again," Viktor agreed and went down on Greg again.

"Hoh," Greg let out a slow, deep sigh. With every inch of his lover's thick meat in his mouth, the talented Gunner even managed to stick his tongue out to lick at Greg's balls a little.

"That feels so good, Vik," Greg put a hand to his lover's head to run the tips of his fingers through Viktor's short hair. Greg relaxed into the incredible feeling of his hard cock held in his partner's loving mouth, but tensed involuntarily when Viktor began to suck him.

"Oh my God," Greg looked down to watch as Viktor's head bobbed on his pole. Viktor sucked his lover's dick with abandon and applied every ounce of skill he could muster.

"Vik, I won't be able to be quiet," Greg urged. "Vik," Greg tried again. His pleas fell on deaf ears. Greg tried to force the muscles of his body to relax, but the mouth that rode his cock, the tongue in constant motion against his cum tube, and the lips that clutched to his shaft had just the opposite effect. Viktor tasted the precum that seeped into his mouth and that drove him ever onward.

"Vik," Greg began to tremble. He would not be able to last long while Viktor sucked him like this and they both knew it. Greg's nuts pulled up to the base of his pole and Viktor tugged them back down. The pull on his scrotum only served to push Greg closer to the edge. Viktor alternated by sucking on just the first few inches of his lover's thick organ. He paid special attention to Greg's frenulum.

"Ugh," Greg trembled as the maestro played his body like a finely tuned instrument. Viktor's tongue remained in constant motion in exactly the right place. The Gunner then took every inch of Greg's cock in his mouth and gave tight, deep, siphoning sucks.

"Huh!" Greg cried much too loudly. It did not surprise him when Viktor shoved a pillow into his face. Greg did not attempt to resist as his lover smothered him. They both knew it was the only way to keep from including the whole house in their love making. Viktor held Greg's testicles in his other hand. There was no way to keep them from crowding the base of the thick spike as Greg was propelled toward orgasm. Viktor felt his lover's body tense up. He could feel and taste the thick precum as it issued ever more freely onto his tongue.

"Nnn!" Greg started to make the almost whine he made, that was such music to Viktor's ears, when he came, even muffled as it was by the pillow. And Viktor stopped. He moved his hand slightly to take hold of the fat crank by the base and pulled his mouth off the throbbing organ. He let go of the pillow, but left it over Greg's face. Viktor just gazed down on the body he so admired of the man he loved so much as Greg shivered in near orgasmic bliss. After a moment Greg moved the pillow away to look up at his grinning lover's face.

"Now that, Viktor Krum, was truly evil," Greg stated.

"Oh, does my slunchitze want come?" Viktor moved his hand up and began to stroke Greg. The prone Brit immediately tensed up again. Greg sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. He was still very close.

"Yes," Greg answered.

"Does my slunchitze want come in my mouth?" Viktor increased the pace of his masturbation of his lover's drooling bone.

"I do," Greg confirmed. Viktor gave a smirk and moved his hand away as he took Greg back in his mouth. Greg's eyes went wide and he pulled the pillow back over his own face, lest he involve three generations of Krums in his orgasm.

"Ugh," Greg moaned into his pillow. Viktor massaged his lover's shaft with his lips as his mouth rode up and down Greg's throbbing organ. He ran both hands up Greg's smooth body to his chest and took hold of both of the prone man's nipples as he resumed his deep siphoning suck.

"Nnn!" Greg pulled the pillow to his face tighter. Viktor knew he had his lover right at the edge by the way his entire body shuddered. He was not about to stop this time. The last time his lover had come in his mouth was before he left for training camp. That was much too long and Viktor would change that right now. He heard the muffled cry that he loved to force Greg to make even as the thick monster in his mouth swelled even further. Viktor took Greg to the back of his throat and pressed his nose into the trimmed pubes as Greg blew out. He loved to drink from Greg this way, choking on the thick British load. Viktor thrilled as semen flooded his mouth. He would have been happy to drown in Greg's cum.

"Yeeh!" Greg cried into his pillow. He fought to hold his body still as his seed gushed into Viktor's mouth. Viktor gulped down Greg's juice and his mouth filled up again. He gently caressed Greg's cum tube with his tongue as the nectar Viktor so craved poured into his mouth. At this moment, such was his craving that Viktor could not imagine how he did not rip Greg's clothes off of him and suck him dry, right there in the stands, right when Greg arrived and before the game was even finished, back in Bad Waltersdorf.

"Ugh," Greg moved the pillow away as he panted. His cream no longer shot, but continued to ooze into Viktor's mouth. Viktor did not need his hand to milk Greg of all he had to give. The Gunner settled on his chest between Greg's legs as he continued to nurse on the British bone he so loved. Greg held his eyes closed and just relaxed as his lover suckled gently on his spent, but still hard cock. Viktor caressed Greg's meat with his tongue inside his cummy mouth. Greg summoned the strength and wit to put a hand to Viktor's head. He ran the tips of his fingers through his Gunner's short, dark hair as Viktor nursed on his penis. Greg knew that Viktor liked to suck him soft. Only when Greg was reduced to half mast did Viktor finally relinquish the still impressively thick organ from his mouth. Greg smiled as he felt his lover lay his head down on him. Viktor's lips pressed against the base of his lover's joint. The Gunner took a deep and satisfying breath through his nose.

"I not know how I wait to do that," Viktor confessed as he gently rubbed Greg's hip with his thumb.

"What? Drink my cum?" Greg hit the proverbial nail on the head. "Why do you think I did that the very night we joined you?"

"When I get your cock in my mouth just now I want never let it go," Viktor continued. "You taste so good, Slunchitze," he raised his head and planted a kiss on the now mostly asleep serpent's neck. Viktor then moved up to lay beside his lover.

"Shall we put on our boxers?" Greg gestured to where he had placed them on the small bedside table.

"Ne," Viktor snuggled up to Greg. "Want lay naked with you and hold all night," he laid his head on Greg's shoulder as he pulled the sheet and thin blanket up over them to their waists.

"That does sound lovely," Greg sighed. Viktor lifted his head and put his hand to Greg's face as he brought their lips together. Greg closed his eyes as his partner kissed him ever so gently. Viktor reached his tongue out and just dipped it in Greg's mouth.

"Mmm," Greg liked that and was able to get a small taste of himself.

"I go to sleep so happy with taste of you in mouth," Viktor laid his head back down. He pulled Greg even tighter to him. "I so happy you here with me. Both of you," Viktor confessed. Greg reached to turn off the bedside lamp.

"There is no place we would ever rather be, Vik," Greg kissed his lover on the forehead.

"Tay obicham, Grigor Goyle," Viktor spoke softly.

"Tay obicham, Viktor Krum," Greg echoed. Both men closed their eyes and were soon in a deep sated sleep.

The time change finally caught up with them when it was not the light through the curtains that woke them, but the pound on their bedroom door.

"Get up!" came Kliment's unmistakable voice.

"Surely it's not time already?" Greg complained. Viktor only gave a moan. He was now in Greg's arms with his Brit spooned up behind him. Greg tightened his arms around Viktor and pressed his morning erection into his lover's ass. Viktor opened his eyes and gave a gasp.

"That feel so good," Viktor stated.

"I know," Greg moulded himself to Viktor's back.

"Want you take me very bad," Viktor added.

"I want that too, Vik," Greg kissed his lover's strong back.

"We no go church. Let others go, so we be home alone. You make love to me like I want," Viktor laid out his plan.

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," Greg continued to kiss along a shoulder blade. "I'm all for it. What do you suppose your mother will say?"

"She no like it," Viktor gave a sigh.

"If only I could slip inside you right now," Greg flexed his cock where it was so happily nestled between Viktor's hard, round glutes. Viktor moaned again. Greg gave a frustrated sigh and rolled over onto his back. "I know we can't eat before church, but is a coffee permitted? And I want Lene to have a glass of juice at least."

"Da, is okay for you," Viktor shifted around in the bed to face his partner and put a hand on Greg's chest. Greg took Viktor's hand and entwined their fingers when the cross above the window caught his eye.

"Oh, I forgot about all the crosses in the house," Greg observed. "They're over every door and window."

"Keep out upior," Viktor said with all seriousness.

"Upior is vampire, right?" Greg clarified.

"Da, your word vampire," Viktor confirmed.

"You don't really believe that," Greg surmised.

"Is easy not believe in England. You no have them there. Here they everywhere," Viktor stated.

"Oh, they are, are they?" Greg was skeptical.

"This where they come from," Viktor explained. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "How you know I not upior? Upior come in night," Viktor climbed atop Greg and straddled him. "Into your bed," he wrapped his hands around Greg's neck, "and strangle." Viktor pressed his thumbs down gently on Greg's adam's apple. "Then suck."

"Well, I much appreciate you forgoing the strangling part before you sucked me dry last night," Greg smiled up at his partner.

"Smart upior know if he let victim live, he can suck again," Viktor leaned down and gave his lover a soft kiss on his lips.

"One tiny point, Upior, just a technicality really, but don't your kind usually drink blood?" Greg teased.

"Da," Viktor conceded, "but my type upior like drink cum."

"Oh, I see," Greg nodded. "Well, happy to supply as much as you need, anytime you need it."

"I need every day," Viktor gave a solemn nod.

"I best not think about the fact that you were gone nearly a month, then," Greg pointed out.

"Oh!" Viktor had not thought of the big hole in his story. "I fast."

"That or I best have a chat with Andrey," Greg smiled. The door to their room swung open at that moment and, once again clad only in boxers, Kliment appeared.

"Hey, you, get up," Kliment stopped short when he caught sight of the two naked men. Greg lay spread eagle on his back on the bed. Viktor straddled Greg with his hands wrapped around the prone man's neck.

Kliment's eyes went wide. "What you doing?!"

Viktor and Greg both burst out laughing.

They were on their way to church when Kliment asked again. The men all wore dark suits with proper white dress shirts and dark, sombre ties. Vladimira wore a dark blue dress, while their mother wore black with a matching lace headscarf. Iskra walked arm in arm with her little friend from across the street, who was dressed the same as she was also a widow. Both older ladies carried a bag full of grapes for the priest to bless. A matter of critical importance on this day. Petar and Vladimira walked with Radka and Helena between them, all hand in hand behind the older ladies. Viktor, Greg and Kliment followed behind. Both little girls were exceptionally cute in their cheerful dresses, which only little girls could get away with. Even little boys were expected to be dressed in dark colors like the men. The family walked down the middle of the uneven street in the heart of the old city. There was little traffic today. Only tourists were not even now on their way to one of the many churches in the city. Mother Krum counted herself fortunate to live within walking distance, only eight blocks, from the cathedral, and would never consider going anyplace else. No doubt His Eminence Kyrill, Metropolitan Archbishop of the Eparchy of Varna and Veliki Preslav, would conduct the Divine liturgy himself on such an important day.

"What you doing when I come get you?" Kliment asked with furrowed brow when they trailed far enough behind the others to not be overheard.

"Greg like me choke him out when we fuck," Viktor spun a line.

"Vik, don't tell your brother such things," Greg chastised. "That's not true at all. And we weren't fucking. Vik was explaining to me about the upior."

"Ah," Kliment immediately understood. "Upior no come our house in night. We extra careful," he assured. It was clear he very much believed in such things. He looked to his brother, "You drink his blood too?"

"Not blood," Viktor gave a shrug with his almost answer.

"Oh!" Kliment got it and shoved his brother hard enough that Viktor nearly stumbled. The older brother only laughed as Greg grabbed his arm to steady him.

The Krum/Stoyanov/Goyle family emerged onto the square on Bul Vladislav Varnenchik and the great and magnificent Metropolitan Cathedral with it's many gold domes stood before them. Built over many years, it was completed this very month in 1886, to commemorate the death of Her Imperial Majesty, the Czarina Maria Alexanrovna, whose husband had been responsible for liberating Bulgaria from five hundred years of Ottoman occupation.

"I am always impressed with how beautiful this cathedral is," Greg commented. "What is it's name again?"

"Katedralen Hram Uspenie Presvyatiya Bogoroditzi," Kliment informed.

"Well, that's easy for you to say, mate," Greg shook his head.

"I no how say in Angliysky," Kliment confessed.

"Metropolitan Cathedral of Assumption of Mary," Viktor gave the translation.

"You knew those words in English?" Greg asked.

"I look up last time," Viktor confessed. "You know we oldest Slavic church in world," he bragged.

"I'm quite sure I remember you mentioning that a time or two," Greg stated. "Predates the Turks, does it?"

"Da, way before Turk," Viktor confirmed. He put his arms around his partner and his brother as they followed the rest of their family and joined what seemed to be the whole of Varna heading into the cathedral.