AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Yeah, so, remember this story? It was always my intention to get back to it, but Culture Shock became Aftershock, and James' story, and Tony and Dane's story, and an original novel, and somehow two years got away from me.
And this is embarrassing. This chapter was ready two years ago too. My darling Pauline gave it a once over for me and it was ready to post. Somehow, in my distraction, I neglected to actually post it. So after an unforgivably long hiatus, here we are.
James' story is nearly done. An original about Tony and Dane is also nearly done. And if anyone would be interested in Milan and his fellow hunky waiters as they encounter a pair of thirsty zombies, that short is finished and available now on Amazon ~dot~ com. Search for Spunk Craving Zombies, or for me, John T. Liz has also included a link on her blog.
Huge giant smooch to my brilliant little twin sister for all her help.
Big hugs to all my girls, Maureen, Rebecca, Kate and Miss Pauline.
The FF witch hunt may or may not be over. I will continue to post here and move to AO3 as and when I have to. When/if I am forced to complete the relocation you can find me at - archiveofourown ~dot~ org. Then just do a search for Jtrue.
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
All character names from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The similarities end there.
Chapter 15: Home Sweet Home
Greg and Viktor slept until well into the afternoon in each other's arms, again naked and on top of the covers of their bed. They had opened the windows upstairs and down to get both the fresh, warm late summer breeze and to air the smell of sex out of the house. When Viktor awoke, he found Greg's sleeping head on his chest. The footballer lay on his back with his sizeable erection laying on his abdomen. Greg lay partly on his partner with his leg up over Viktor's muscular thigh. Viktor stretched and tightened his arms around his lover. Greg stirred at this and Viktor felt the fat British bone flex against his hip.
"Mmm. Nice nap," Viktor sighed.
"Laying on you is the nice part," Greg added. He ran his hand down Viktor's body, let it brush by the hard Bulgarian snake and cupped his lover's heavy eggs.
"My top on top me," Viktor commented with a smile.
"That's me, big, strong, dominant top, right on top," Greg moved his hand back up Viktor's body as he shifted himself to lay more fully atop his strong partner. He moved his head from Viktor's pec to the broad shoulder.
"I not know how strong or dominant you are, but you just right, Grigor," Viktor held Greg tightly in his arms.
"So are you, Vik," Greg echoed the sentiment as he caressed Viktor's pec and shoulder. "We really must come to Varna more often."
"Da?" Viktor enquired.
"We have the most bloody amazing sex here," Greg stated.
"It just seem like that because wait so long," Viktor rubbed Greg's back.
"I see. Shall I practice my upior skills now?" Greg asked.
"Da, practice," Viktor smiled. Greg lifted himself and swung a leg over Viktor to straddle him. He sat on Viktor with the Gunner's big dick nestled in the crack of his ass while his own cock and balls rested on Viktor's sternum. Greg leaned down over his partner and gently took Viktor's lips with his. Viktor caressed his lover's ribs while Greg's lips moved against his. It was a slow, sensual kiss as Greg caught Viktor's upper lip between his own, which gave Viktor the opportunity to suck on Greg's bottom lip in the process. Greg snaked his tongue out to run it just along the inside of his lover's upper lip.
"Hmm," Viktor moaned into Greg's mouth. The Brit slowly moved his hands into place and wrapped them around the prone man's neck. Viktor opened his mouth to Greg and welcomed his lover's tongue with his own. As Greg deepened their kiss he pressed down on Viktor's adam's apple where his thumbs crossed over it. He didn't want to really choke Viktor, but wanted him to feel the pressure. Viktor tightened his grip on Greg's ribs in proportion to the tightening grip on his throat. Viktor let his tongue move around the invading tongue that reached as deep into his mouth as it could. Greg much enjoyed the slow, sensual dance of their tongues inside Viktor's mouth. Both men did. The cock that flexed into Greg's crack and the other cock that did the same on Viktor's torso proved it. After another moment he broke their kiss and released his hold on Viktor's neck.
"How was that?" Greg smiled down on his partner.
"Very good. Near perfect. One flaw only," Viktor stated.
"What's that?" Greg bit.
"Upior supposed be cold, dead thing from Bulgaria or Romania, not hot Angliysky man," Viktor smiled.
"I see. Well, we can't all be perfect," Greg dismissed.
"Now you suck," Viktor commanded.
"Ah, the very best part," Greg lifted himself off of Viktor. "Slide down on the bed," he patted the nearest muscular thigh.
"Oh, da!" Viktor enthused, for that could only mean one thing and he loved it. Viktor slid down until his knees hung over the foot of the bed. Greg moved to straddle his lover's body again, this time on hands and knees, tip to toe. Viktor took hold of his own joint and held it up for Greg's convenience. He felt Greg's lips slip over his hardness as Greg lowered himself over him. Viktor quickly caught the thick bone between his lips and wrapped his arms around Greg's lower back as both cocks sank into welcoming mouths. Greg laid down fully atop Viktor. His fat post pressed to the back of Viktor's throat even as he took the big Bulgarian serpent down his throat. Noses pressed into loose, smooth scrotums as Greg choked them both with cock and Viktor held him firmly in place.
Half an hour later, with each other's cum on their breath and a few more stolen minutes to relax, Viktor picked up his cell from the bedside table.
"Is near time get Petar," Viktor informed.
"Is it?" Greg asked from where he lay on his back beneath Viktor's right leg. He casually ran his fingers through the hair on Viktor's shin. "I've come inside you three times today. I'm so relaxed right now, I don't want to move."
"I know, I same, but we promise Vladimira," Viktor spoke wisdom.
"Couldn't we send him a car?" Greg asked.
"Da, we send car. The one we drive," Viktor leaned up on his elbows.
"Very well," Greg hugged Viktor's leg to his chest. "Though I do so hate to see you put on clothes."
"I not put on much clothes. We wear bathing suits for go in pool," Viktor pointed out.
"Ah. I do though think we should put on shirts and shorts over them," Greg stated.
Viktor lifted his leg off of Greg and swung both legs over the side of the the bed as he sat up. "And you wear new swimsuit," Viktor put his index finger on his lover's chest.
"Fancy me so obvious in that swimsuit in front of your mum!" Greg scoffed.
"I obvious in mine. Kliment and Svilen and Petar obvious in theirs. Is Bulgarian way," Viktor patted Greg on his shoulder and rose from the bed.
"I might point out that I am not Bulgarian," Greg countered.
"You Bulgarian through me. What tay obicham mean?" Viktor asked.
"It means I love you," Greg answered.
"See? Bulgarian," Viktor concluded. He picked up Greg's new bathing suit and laid it across his face. "Put on sexy suit. We go now."
"If you insist," Greg lifted his swimsuit off of his face.
"Da," Viktor confirmed as he slipped on his own. He adjusted himself in the pouch and reached for a tank top.
A few minutes later and they were out the door. Greg wore a tee shirt and they both had on shorts over their bathing suits. Viktor carried the case of wine and Greg paused to lock up the house behind them. Greg used the remote to unlock the Opel Antara and dashed to open the rear hatch for Viktor to place the case of wine within. Viktor stowed the wine and shut the hatch.
"You know where we're going?" Greg handed his partner the keys.
"Da. No worry, Grigor. I get us there safe," Viktor assured as he took the wheel.
"Oh, dear," Greg muttered under his breath. He settled into the front seat beside Viktor. Viktor just smiled, started the car, and they were off.
Viktor drove them out of the city, back in the direction of the airport. It was nearly as far and nearly as harrowing as their drive in. Greg held on tightly and frequently closed his eyes.
"Please keep your hands on the wheel," Greg requested when he felt Viktor's hand on his thigh.
"I just try comfort you," hurt was clear in Viktor's voice as he returned his hand to the wheel.
"I appreciate that, Vik, really I do. Perhaps you could slow down?" Greg asked.
"No one else slow down. It more dangerous if I do," Viktor explained.
"Right. I accept that. You know I love physical contact with you. You know I do, but at the moment I would like for you to focus all your energy on what little control over this vehicle you have," Greg stated. Viktor only chuckled at that as they veered off the road onto the bumpy service drive to the power plant.
"Oh. Is this it?" Greg asked.
"Da," Viktor confirmed.
A guard had driven Petar to the main gate in a golf cart and he was waiting when Viktor and Greg pulled up. Greg was quick to jump out of the car and left the front passenger door open.
"I sit in back," Petar protested. He wore the snug tan pants, white shirt and tie that was his uniform and carried a backpack slung over one shoulder in place of a briefcase.
"We don't know the way. You sit up front and navigate then," Greg bid. He climbed into the backseat as Petar took his place in front with Viktor.
"I forget you no be new house," Petar smiled as he placed his backpack on the floor by his feet and shut the door.
"We're looking very forward to seeing it," Greg stated. Petar looked expectantly to Viktor who, inexplicably, still had his foot on the brake.
"We go?" Petar gestured.
"Petar, have three rule in car," Viktor held up his thumb and first two fingers.
"Should I be afraid now?" Petar asked with a grin.
"We no smoke in car," Viktor began.
"I no smoke," Petar pointed out what they knew full well.
"Da," Viktor acknowledged. "We no eat in car," he continued.
"I no eating," Petar spread his hands.
"And we no wear pants," Viktor delivered his punch line. Greg tried very hard to keep a straight face as somehow Viktor managed to do.
"You wear pants," Petar pointed out.
"These shorts," Viktor fingered the thin material of his shorts.
"Grigor wear pants?" Petar turned in his seat. He had not bothered to notice.
"I'll take mine off if you will," Greg offered.
Petar shook his head and unbuckled his belt. "Oh, is okay if I no wear underwear?"
"Hm," Viktor gave a shrug as if he were considering this trivial detail. "Is okay. We no mind."
Petar unbuttoned his pants and pulled his zipper down an inch. He paused and just stared at Viktor. Viktor chuckled and finally hit the gas. Petar shook his head and fastened his pants back up.
"Ah, so close," Greg gave a resigned sigh.
Petar directed them to drive back through the city and up into the hills over Varna on the other side. The neighborhood was quite clearly a new development in a suburb that had only grown up in the last few years. Each group of four single family, two story brick houses were clustered around a pool that they shared. Several streets in and ever upward, they came at last to the Stoyanov residence. Viktor pulled the Antara into the driveway and parked beside the Fiat Croma and Svilen's scooter.
"What a lovely, peaceful neighborhood," Greg commented as they all climbed out of the car. "We can't be more than fifteen minutes out and it's so very different from the city."
"Varna not big like London," Viktor pointed out.
"No, I really see that now," Greg gazed down on the valley of Varna below them.
"Come in," Petar bid as he headed for his front door. Viktor opened the Antara hatch and pulled out the case of wine. Greg pulled the door back down and followed the two Bulgarian men into the house.
"Can I put pants back on now?" Petar called out loudly just as soon as they were all in the door.
"Viktor!" came Vladimira's irritated response. She charged out of the kitchen in just a bikini top and bottom with a wrap tied about her hips. "Oh," her demeanor softened when she saw that they were only kidding.
"Mmm," Petar smiled. "There my malko maika," he pulled his wife to him and she willingly conformed her body to his. Vladimira was only too happy to receive his kiss.
"I put wine away," Viktor headed for what was obviously the kitchen.
"Oh, Vladimira, we put the traminer and the rosé in the fridge at maika's this afternoon to get chilled. We'll put them back in the fridge, right?" Greg asked.
"Da," she confirmed as she stepped away from her husband. "I show you. Then give tour of house," Vladimira followed Viktor and Greg into her kitchen.
"We start master bedroom. Help Petar put on swimsuit," Viktor teased. He set the case on the center island in the big, modern kitchen. Petar heard that and laughed to himself as he headed up the stairs to the second floor. Vladimira said nothing, but smacked her big brother on his bare shoulder. Viktor just snickered as he handed her the bottles of white and blush to place back in refrigeration.
"You do have a lovely home, Vladimira," Greg commented as he walked through to the open, spacious family room. Both the kitchen and family room opened onto the back patio.
"Come. I show you," Vladimira walked Viktor and Greg through her home. There was a proper living room through which they had entered. A small den that was used as a home office was off the living room near the front door. The kitchen gave off to a formal dining room on the one side and was open to a spacious and comfortable family room on the other. As Petar and Vladimira had both grown up in old and traditional homes, they chose a contemporary style of furniture with light fabrics and blonde woods for their own home. A curving staircase in the two story living room took them up to the second floor. In the master suite they found Petar walking out of the big closet in only a bikini that displayed his manhood prominently.
"Oh, there now, Petar. Did you need any help tucking everything in there?" Greg teased.
"Da, need help," Petar took his wife's hand and placed it on his pouch.
"I help untuck," Vladimira gave her husband's package a gentle squeeze.
"Viktor, Grigor, give me few minute with my sapruga," Petar requested as he wrapped his arms around his wife.
"We go change other bedroom," Viktor announced and headed out. Greg moved to follow his partner.
"I do see there are four bedrooms up here. Plenty of room for more children, it seems to me. I'll just shut the door then," Greg said as he did so. He followed Viktor into an adjacent bedroom where Vladimira had left the bag they gave her that morning. Their changing involved no more than undressing as they both stripped down to the swimsuits they wore under their shorts.
"We get beer. Go outside," Vitor took his partner's hand and led him back downstairs, and into his sister's kitchen. He opened the fridge and bent to examine its contents. "Is only Zagorka. Is okay?"
"Beggars can't be choosers," Greg was easy. By the time Viktor popped the tops on the two bottles, Petar and Vladimira had joined them. They had engaged in some kissing, caressing and groping, as was evidenced by the way the straight man's swimsuit now struggled to contain him, but this was not the time to try to make a baby. Viktor handed his brother-in-law the bottle he had just opened for himself and got another out of the fridge.
"Blagodarya," Petar drained half the bottle in one gulp and gave a most satisfied sigh. "Come. We go outside," Petar led the way out onto the patio. The back yard was small and mostly comprised of the patio. A fence and gate separated their yard from the pool.
"Oh, look at that view!" Greg was impressed. They were not five miles from the coast and the Black Sea was clearly visible from the back yard.
"Ah, here rest of my boy," Iskra sat at a large table under the shade of a huge umbrella. "Viktor, Grigor, you shopping?"
"Da, Maika. Shop good," Viktor assured his mother. All three men bent to give her a kiss on her cheek.
"How you day, Petar?" Iskra asked.
"Better now, Maika," Petar slipped a possessive and appreciative arm around his wife.
"Tatee!" Radka ran through the open gate to the pool.
"Tatee! Daddy!" Helena was right behind her. Petar and Viktor squatted down as one and scooped their children up into their arms. Both little girls clung to their fathers and ate up their kisses. Helena was equally happy to see both of her fathers and turned in Viktor's arms to reach for Greg. The Brit was only too happy to hug his partner with their child between them.
"Did princess have fun day with lalya and baba and cheecho and cousin Radka?" Viktor asked.
"Yes, Daddy. And Svilen read us a story. And they've been playing with us in the pool. It's been great fun!" Helena enthused.
"You okay, Viktor?" Kliment asked as he and Svilen walked into the yard, both still wet from the pool. "I know you shop hard all day, over and over."
"I like shop hard," Viktor answered in the same code. He and Petar both set their kids back down.
"Grigor shop good?" Kliment asked as he put a hand on Viktor's bare shoulder.
"Grigor best shopper ever," Viktor endorsed.
"Viktor bring more pink wine, Kliment," Vladimira joined in. "Maybe you be good shopper."
"I very good shopper," Kliment boasted. "I just go different store."
"Govnarche," Viktor just chuckled and shook his head.
"Who hungry?" Petar asked.
"Very hungry," Viktor answered.
"Famished," Greg agreed.
"We get supper," Iskra rose from her chair. "Petar, you grilling," she patted his arm as she passed.
"Da," Petar confirmed and headed over to light the grill.
Kliment was a strong man, very nearly as strong as his big brother. Which meant that he was far stronger than Greg.
"Ahh!" Greg gave a startled cry as Kliment bent in front of him and snatched him up, off of his feet, over the younger man's shoulder. "Bloody hell! Kliment, don't you dare!" Greg shouted. He supported himself with his hands on his brother-in-law's lower back. It was quite clear where Kliment was headed with him. "Viktor!"
But it was too late. Kliment jumped into the pool with Greg still over his shoulder. When Greg found his feet and surfaced, Kliment bobbed gleefully nearby. Viktor and Svilen stood smiling on the edge of the pool while Helena and Radka laughed and jumped up and down behind them.
"Viktor did very nearly that same thing to me at the bloody hotel in Austria. Clearly, pools are not safe around you two!" Greg concluded.
"I cute, Grigor," Kliment used Greg's own words against him.
"Bloody adorable," Greg scoffed. "Throw the nearest Englishman in the pool, must be a Krum family tradition!"
"No one throw my Grigor in pool, but me!" Viktor roared with sudden faux outrage. He dove at Kliment and they both went under with an enormous splash. Svilen took the shrieking and laughing girls by the hand and led them to the steps, where their water wings awaited them. Greg swam over to meet them there while Viktor and his brother roughhoused.
"You okay, Grigor?" Svilen asked as he helped both girls down the steps into the water.
"Oh, I'm fine," Greg sat with Svilen on the steps while both girls bobbed in front of them within arms reach. "It's not as if I wasn't coming in. Though, don't let on to those two," Greg thought a moment. "Still, it might be nice if I could choose for myself when to go in, just one ruddy time."
"Kliment just play. If he no love you, he no do that," Svilen stated. "He love you both, Grigor, very much. He say so to me all time."
"I love him too," Greg confessed. "I think he was just sixteen when I first met him, the skinny little blighter. Bone thin he was then, still growing into his body. He's very much a man now."
"Da," Svilen agreed wistfully.
"Oh, sorry, mate. That was stupid of me," Greg offered.
"Ne," Svilen shook his head.
"You must have been sixteen when I met you as well. I met you that first time I came to Varna, didn't I?" Greg asked. "If only we knew then what we know now. Do come next year, Svilen. You're going to love London. And London will love you."
"HA!" Viktor shouted in triumph. He held up the bathing suit that he had successfully stripped off his brother and threw it as hard as he could. Fortunately for Kliment, it did not go over the neighbor's fence, but clipped the top and just hung there.
"He did that to me in Austria too," Greg commented to Svilen as Viktor swam toward them and away from his brother. "Though, he didn't throw my suit out of the pool," he amended as Viktor sat on the step beside him.
"Him I try to embarrass. You," Viktor put his arm around his lover's shoulders, "I like naked for very different reason."
"You think I care this, Viktor?" Kliment asked. He hoisted himself out of the pool at the side. Helena and Radka laughed and giggled as their uncle walked casually and naked over to the neighbor's fence to retrieve his bathing suit. Greg did not miss the longing in Svilen's eyes. Kliment plucked up his bathing suit, took a moment to turn it right side out, paused again to smile and wave at the neighbor lady who was watching him closely through a picture window, and slipped it back on.
"Come get ready supper," Petar called from the gate. Those still in the pool got out. Everyone grabbed a towel from the stack Vladimira had put out and headed for the house.
Petar grilled shashlik and stacked them up on a large platter. The pork shoulder kebabs on skewers with sausage, pepper, onion and mushrooms made Greg's mouth water just to look at them. The family ate outside at the big table under the umbrella, while those who were still wet, dried. At this casual meal, none of men bothered to put on a shirt and no one cared.
Viktor made a point to sit beside his brother and waited until Kliment was taking a swig of his beer. He just started to sit and made a show of being in pain. "Oh!" he lifted back up and settled down again ever so gingerly. "Oh, hoh," Viktor took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. Kliment watched this with big eyes and a mouthful of beer. He tried very hard not to spit his beer on the table as he laughed. Kliment grabbed up several napkins as beer poured out of his nose. He choked, laughed and coughed all at the same time.
"What you do?" Iskra asked. She had no idea what had caused this. Those who did, did not answer her. When Kliment finally composed himself he looked at his big brother who just sat smirking at him and laughed again.
Petar poured rakia with their salad, a tradition he very much enjoyed. With dinner, the ladies enjoyed a glass of the traminer while the men stuck with beer. After their meal, Greg and Viktor insisted on cleaning up. Iskra and Vladimira sat at the island with a glass of the rosé. Petar stood behind his wife with never less than one hand on her. Helena and Radka played quietly in the family room.
"Where are Klimet and Svilen?" Greg wondered aloud as he closed up the dishwasher.
"They watch TV, I think," Petar looked toward the living room.
"Antisocial little wankers," Greg walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, and the others followed.
Kliment and Svilen sat together on the living room sofa, like the other men, still in only their bathing suits. That they were together was not as remarkable as how they were sitting. Kliment relaxed as he reclined on the sofa with his legs spread apart. Svilen was nestled under Kliment's arm, cuddled into the younger Krum's body. Svilen's free hand rested on Kliment's bare, inner thigh. Both men held a glass of the rosé as they snuggled and watched a news program on television. They were the very image of gay domestic bliss. Greg and Viktor stopped and stared at them. Kliment and Svilen fought very hard to maintain their composure. It was Kliment who broke first and burst out laughing. Svilen was only a second behind him.
"Look, Vik. Doesn't it just warm your heart? Aren't they darling together?" Greg slipped an arm around his partner.
"Spill wine my sofa, you die," Vladimira warned.
"I tell you like pink wine, Kliment, if you only try," Petar teased.
"I no really drink it!" Kliment continued to laugh.
"Who idea this?" Viktor asked.
"Kliment," Svilen answered. "We wait twenty minute for you to find us!"
"Kliment tell you put hand on thigh?" Viktor pointed.
"Da," Kliment confirmed.
"Hand too low. You should put higher," Viktor gestured.
"Where? Here?" Svilen asked innocently as he moved his hand between Kliment's wide spread legs to cup the front of his friend's well packed bikini pouch.
"Oh, da," Kliment went along with it. He pulled Svilen to him more tightly.
Until Svilen began to move his fingers and really grope Kliment. As if he had been jolted by a cattle prod, Kliment flew from the sofa.
"Ne, ne," Kliment laughed and waved a hand. He did manage to keep from spilling his wine. It was all in fun and Kliment was not at all upset, it had after all been his idea, but being fondled was further than he wanted to take it. Svilen made a pouty face complete with a stuck out lower lip.
"Now you've gone and hurt his feelings, you bad, bad man," Greg teased.
"When you take me home on scooter, I grab you. See how you like it!" Kliment pointed at Svilen. "Oh, wait," he knew this was complete nonsense and said it to be funny.
"What are we laughing at?" Helena appeared beside her fathers. "I want to grab cheecho too!" she announced and flung herself at him. She didn't mean at all the same thing, of course, and flung her arms around him in a tight hug.
Not long after that, those who did not live in the Stoyanov household departed. Svilen followed the Antara and Kliment did ride with him. They put on their tank tops, but did not bother with their shorts. Viktor parked around the side of the house as usual, while Svilen just pulled up in front of his friend's house. Before Kliment climbed off the scooter, he made good on his threat, and grabbed Svilen's crotch.
"Oh!" Sivlen jumped. He did not expect that, but laughed with Kliment.
The younger Krum climbed off the scooter and took off the messenger bag. "I'm horny. What about you?" he asked in Bulgarian as he put the bag on Svilen.
"I am now. What did you have in mind, sexy boy?" Svilen made eyes at his friend.
"Not that! I thought we could go to ID Club tonight," Kliment explained. "Get us both some tail."
"Oh, okay. All of us?" Svilen gestured with his chin toward the others as they came around the corner of the house.
"Sure. They can come if they like. We'll all go. I'll call Valery," Kliment gave a nod.
"Okay. That would be fun," Svilen smiled.
"So go home. Shower and get ready, and be back here by ten," Kliment instructed. He gave Svilen a kiss on his cheek and patted his back.
"See you later," Svilen started the scooter back up and rode off into the gathering dusk.
It was not as late, of course, in London. Two men walked out of the Canada Square tower onto the wet streets of Canary Wharf to join countless other commuters on their way home at the end of another day in the rat race. Longtime friends, these men carried their briefcases slung over their shoulder. They both loosened their ties and the red haired man pulled his shirttail out of his dress pants as was his habit. The dark haired man was shorter than his friend and co-worker, and kept his fringe down over his forehead for a very good reason. The shorter man had a distinctive scar obscured by those dark bangs that he had worn since infancy. Though there were hints of the inequity between them, like the darker haired man's Gucci necktie and Armani briefcase to match his Armani suit, it never came between them. They were family.
These two professional men had only the short walk of a block from their building to Jubilee Park where the Canary Wharf tube station on the Jubilee line was located. They followed the throng below ground, swiped their oysters, and waited on the crowded platform for a train. It was not a long wait and soon they were headed deeper into the city. They stood close together and held onto the overhead rails on the overcrowded train.
"Any plans tonight, Har?" the redhead asked.
"Just home to the wife and kids. Same as you, Ron," H answered in a voice entirely devoid of emotion.
"Yeah," Ron nodded to himself. "Fancy a stop for a quick pint? Get off at London Bridge with me. We'll grab a sour at Tito's."
"Not tonight, Ron. Thanks anyway. Your sister doesn't like it when I'm late home," H answered.
"Right. Hermione doesn't either, of course, but I've never let that stop me," Ron gave the shorter man a nudge with his shoulder.
"Sorry," H looked away. H knew very well the dynamic in Ron and Hermione's home was different. There was love in their home.
"Yeah, alright, mate," Ron dropped it. They rode on is silence. London Bridge tube station was only the third stop and all too soon it was time for them to part company.
"Night, mate," Ron patted H on the back. "Give Gin 'an the kids a kiss for us," he bid as the train pulled into the station.
"Same to Hermione and your kids," H managed a smile.
"See you bright and early," Ron gave his usual parting words as the doors slid open.
"Night, Ron," H called after his best friend. The best friend who didn't really know him at all. Many followed Ronald Weasley off the train. Not only was this a connecting point for the Northern tube line, which would take Ron to Islington, but there was also rail service from this station to convey commuters to further outlying southern suburbs. H was thus finally able to sit down and relaxed somewhat as he continued another three stops, and back under the Thames again, to Westminster tube station. H rose before the train came to a stop and was ready when the doors finally parted. Here he connected to the Circle line and traveled only two stops to Victoria tube station in the very heart of London. H made his way up to the Victoria rail station above and walked out into the neighborhood of Belgravia. Here his money and status began to show, for a man on his salary could never afford to live at so prestigious and desirable an address.
It was only two short blocks to his home on Lower Belgrave Street overlooking Eaton Square. H did not even notice that the closer he drew to his home, the slower he walked. Home for H was not a safe haven or a place of refuge. It was not a place where he felt safe or loved. It should have been. It was for other men. It was for Ron. He wanted so desperately for his to be, but it wasn't. And it never had been. His home was a large, gilded prison from which he was lucky to obtain a day pass on workdays.
He held onto the strap of the Armani briefcase that his lover had given him on their anniversary two years ago. H thought of Rick every time he picked it up. It occurred to him that he had never told Rick that and it was just the kind of sappy thing that Rick ate up. H had given Rick a sleek motorcycle style jacket of supple black leather with a small collar of mink that year. Rick looked really hot in it and he wore it nearly every time H saw him during the winter ever since. It gave H a sense of security somehow to see Rick wearing his jacket. It made him feel like Rick was all the more his. H did not even realize that he heaved a sigh as he thought of Rick. His lover had been unusually difficult lately. The thought struck him that it might be due to the impertinent influence of that little wog who was currently leeching off of Rick. H realized that, in truth, this had been going on longer that that. Rick called him today, rather than texting their secret code, and put him on edge right off. Rick's anger had matched his own, however, and H could see that he had pushed Rick too far. It was time to give in a little bit. He needed Rick and it had been far too long. Sure he could find relief elsewhere when he needed it, but Rick was a balm not only for his body, but his spirit as well. Their conversations were as brief today as they had been troubling. Rick had threatened to be done with him. He had threatened that before, of course. A few times he had even followed through. And those times had been painful. H didn't want to go through that again, if he could help it. Now Rick wanted to meet to talk, and it could neither be done at the secret house, nor wait until Thursday. So H had arranged for the afternoon off tomorrow and would meet Rick on the Heath. It was the only place he could think of that met Rick's requirements but was remote enough so that hopefully they wouldn't be spotted by someone he or Ginny knew.
H realized with a start that he had stopped walking and just stood on the sidewalk. He had stopped because he had reached his home. H took a deep breath and fished his keys from his briefcase as he climbed the four steps to his big, black, ornate front doors. The key turned easily in the lock and the left door swung inward.
"I'm home," H called as he stepped into the spacious dark wood entry hall of his home. He closed and locked the door behind him.
"Welcome home, Har," the smiling woman walked into the hall from deeper within the house. His wife was dressed in snug jeans and a thin sweater that highlighted her womanly curves. Her long red hair lay over her shoulders. She took her husband's arm as he set down his briefcase and dropped his keys into a small bowl on an antique console table beneath a huge, heavily gilded, equally antique, mirror.
Ginny gave her husband a kiss on his cheek. "How was your day?" she asked sweetly.
"Fine," H's tone and expression betrayed his immediate suspicion. His wife almost never met him at the door when he came home. Sometimes she didn't even acknowledge him at all. They were never this loving with each other. And he wished that he cared. "How was yours?" he added warily.
"Very nice," Ginny smiled.
"You're in an awfully good mood," H observed wryly.
"I have lovely news. Boys," Ginny called, "come kiss your father."
The thunderous cacophony of the five and four year old boys stampeded into the hall, hollering their juvenile heads off the whole way.
"Jimmy, Albie," H squatted down to receive the affection of his sons. James was the very image of his father. He had the same dark hair and looked just like him. Albus favored his mother in looks and coloring with his auburn hair. The boys gave their father a kiss on his cheeks in unison as he hugged them both, then tore back to whatever destruction they were up to.
"What's your news, then?" H asked as he stood.
"Come into the dining room," Ginny led the way past the double doors that gave onto the salon, toward the grand front stairs, and finally into the dining room through the single large open door. There on the big, grand table that comfortably seated ten, were laid out the plans of the historic Berkeley Castle.
"Are you still going on about this?" H was discouraging.
"Our dream is finally coming true, Har," Ginny was enthused.
"Is it?" H's dream could not have been more the opposite.
"We have final approval from the Heritage Commission to turn the castle over to us. We have the grants and final loan approval," Ginny outlined.
"Oh my bloody God," H shook his head and leaned on the back of a tall dining chair.
"We have all the plans approved and ready to go," Ginny gestured. She refused to allow him to dampen her spirits. "The contractors are just waiting for the word to move in and begin. Just think of it, Har," she stepped up to him and draped her arms around his neck. "Your parents always wanted to restore and live in the old family castle. That's what your uncle said before he died. Now, at last, we can."
H did not return his wife's affectionate gesture as he slowly nodded. "You've always wanted to get your hands on that castle, and now you finally have."
"With a first class castle hotel, we can afford to live there," Ginny ignored his caustic remark as she stepped away from him and continued. "We have plenty of money, but this way the castle will virtually pay for itself. And just think of the children. What a wonderful place to raise a family."
"You're determined to go through with this," H spoke his realization aloud.
The boys tore through the dining room at that moment, one chasing the other, and both screaming at the top of their lungs.
"James! Albus!" H's shout stopped his sons in their wide eyed tracks. "Must you make that noise?! I am trying to have a conversation with your mother!"
"Don't take your frustration out on them, Harry. Go on, boys," Ginny bade and they gladly fled. She liked opportunities to undermine his authority. "Anyway, it's done. All that's left is to meet with the solicitor at the bank to sign the final papers. You'll need to get out early tomorrow."
"Tomorrow! I can't tomorrow," H protested loudly. "I have an important meeting in the afternoon tomorrow."
"You'll just have to cancel it. This is more important, Har. This is our future," Ginny gestured to the papers that lay spread out on the table.
"Bloody hell, Gin," H swore. "You could give a chap a little more notice! My meeting is important. Maybe I can cut it short. What time are we to meet the solicitor?"
"One," Ginny answered.
"One! Jesus!" H ran a hand through his hair, exposing the scar on his forehead. "It just better be bloody quick. At half past two I'm walking out," he threatened.
"You'll walk out when we're done," Ginny laid down the law. "And don't be late!"
"Fine! I said I'll bloody be there and I will! Christ!" H took off his glasses and rubbed his face.
"And we're having my brother and his family over tomorrow to celebrate," Ginny continued.
"We are? Ron didn't say anything," H stated.
"Ron is no doubt only just learning of it himself. I only just called Hermione," Ginny informed.
"Lovely. Double the screaming," H gestured toward the salon where their children roughhoused.
"And we'll have to drive out to Berkeley this weekend. You'll need to get Friday off. There's to be a ceremony. The press will be there and a few dignitaries. I made us a reservation at the Berkeley Arms there in the village," Ginny walked out of the dining room and into their spacious eat in kitchen.
"Oh, that's just bloody brilliant!" H called after her in an angry tone. He stood alone in the dining room looking down on the mess of papers laid out on the table. Whatever happened with Rick tomorrow, he would have to make damn sure they made the most of their time on Thursday. Or, failing that, he would have to make other arrangements. There was no way he would be able to face this weekend without a dose of sanity to bolster himself.
"I'll be downstairs!" H shouted in no particular direction and walked out of the dining room.
In the kitchen Ginny leaned heavily on the granite kitchen counter. She closed her eyes and hung her head with a sigh. Once upon a time her older brother's best friend had been a great guy. He was caring and attentive. He smiled. She was quite sure she even loved him. Ginny could not help but wonder, once she had her family in the quiet and quaint setting of Berkeley, would she get her husband back? And she tried very hard to convince herself that she still cared.
H retrieved his briefcase from the entry hall and then stomped down the front stairs to the garden level. Isolated from the big family room and small garden at the bottom of the back stairs, was what could have been a private apartment or in-law quarters at the bottom of the front stairs. There was a small kitchen that was more of a laundry room, a full and a half bath, and a spacious front room with with it's own separate entrance. This was H's own private space where his family knew better than to intrude. This study, like the salon and dining rooms above, and the master bedroom and another sitting room above that, had a large and dramatic marble mantled fireplace and rich, dark paneled walls. H sat down in the tall oxblood leather chair behind his big antique desk and pulled the chain on his green shaded banker's lamp. It was always cooler down here and he picked up the remote from his desk to activate the fireplace. With a pop and a rush, the fire roared to life. It would be toasty warm in just a few minutes. He wanted it warm enough to be comfortable out of his clothes. He sure could do with a good stress relieving wank right about now. H looked around the room and suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe. Not for the first time, he could not stand to be in this house for another second. H plucked another set of keys from a desk drawer. He shut off the fireplace and exited the house through the private entrance to a small outdoor area with stairs up to the street. Just half a block down on the same side of the street was the Plumbers Arms pub. He needed a pint and fully intended to gulp his first one. If only he were meeting with Rick right now.
Viktor and Greg went to ID Club with Kliment, Svilen and Valery that night. They saw Miroslav there again, but he didn't bother to approach them this time and no one cared. Valery was gone almost as soon as they got there. Greg and Viktor watched over Kliment and Svilen like proud parents as they compared notes and tastes on the people they saw. The older men saw the dynamic change between Kliment and his gay friend. No longer was Svilen smitten with vain desire that could never be returned. Greg and Viktor shared knowing smiles as Svilen transformed before their very eyes into Kliment's brother predator. The hunters did see a gay man with a straight female friend that struck both their fancy and Kliment, being the more bold by far, approached them with Svilen in tow. Greg and Viktor watched while Kliment got friendly with the woman, and the man got friendly with Svilen. Shortly thereafter, Greg and Viktor were left to walk home alone, which they did.
The following day Vladimira picked up Greg on the pretext of helping her pick out new wallpaper for her first floor powder room. This was something Viktor found as interesting as watching paint dry. He and Kliment took Helena and Radka to the playground in the Sea Garden. Greg and Vladimira were long back by the time Viktor and Kliment brought the kids home. Viktor did not at all find it suspicious that Vladimira had not found a single wallpaper she liked.
All too soon the holiday with their family drew to an end. Petar, of course, was at work that Thursday. They had bid him farewell with tight hugs and a smack on his butt the night before. Vladimira and Radka were on hand with Iskra and Kliment to see them off. Curiously enough, British Airways had a non stop flight between London and Varna, from Gatwick Airport. Gatwick was not preferred, but not enough of a disadvantage to make them chose a connection. The flight was in the afternoon, which left them the morning to spend at home quietly with their family. Vladimira and her daughter came right from dropping Petar off at work. Kliment, usually a smiling and energetic man, was subdued that day.
Greg packed their bags and put fresh sheets on their bed. Viktor appeared in the bedroom, ready to take the bags down to the car. Both men wore polo shirts and snug jeans. Greg would be the first to admit that Viktor looked better in both. Greg could see that his partner was down as well.
"Are you sad to leave your family?" Greg asked as he put his arms around Viktor from behind.
"Da," Viktor admitted.
"I'll miss them too, Vik. I love them too," Greg held his partner and rested his chin on the muscular shoulder.
"I know," Viktor held his lover's arms and entwined their fingers.
"Kliment seems down. Be sure to hug him and tell him that you love him," Greg advised.
"Why you think need tell me that?" Viktor turned his head to look at his partner as best he could.
"I don't mean anything by it, Vik. It's just that sometimes you two are so competitive. Such, I don't know, boys, that you don't say how you really feel. I think he really needs to hear it today," Greg explained.
"Da," Viktor nodded. "I know you right. I do love my little brat."
"Right, then," Greg pulled back and patted Viktor's shoulder. "Let's get these bags to the car."
Viktor picked up his duffel bag and their big suitcase and carried them out. Greg picked up their carry on bag and Helena's backpack and followed after he checked both bedrooms one last time to be sure they hadn't left anything. Downstairs Iskra sat on the sofa holding both her granddaughters. As her first born son and son-in-law carried out the luggage, she began to cry.
"Don't cry, Baba!" Helena was upset.
"Baba no want you go. Miss you so much," Iskra hugged Helena to her tightly and Radka joined in. This only served to set off Vladimira, who stood by in snug shorts and tube top, and wiped her tears silently. Kliment wore a tank top and cargo shorts. He stood with his hands in his pockets and eyes cast down. Viktor and Greg walked back into the house and Viktor headed straight for his sister. They needed no words as Viktor took her in his arms. Vladimira held her big brother and shed silent tears on his shoulder.
"Come here, Vladimira," Greg took her as Viktor let her go.
"Blagodarya for come, Grigor," Vladimira held her brother-in-law just as tightly as she had held her brother.
"Of course," Greg assured. "I do so hope you're pregnant," he added in a whisper.
"I too. Blagodarya, Grigor," she hugged him tightly again.
"Give Petar a hug for us again," Greg bid as he let her go at last.
Iskra rose from the sofa into her first born's arms. "My boy," she added her tears to Viktor's shirt.
"Little miss, do you need the loo before we go?" Greg asked his daughter. Far better that was handled here and now than in an airport men's room.
"Oh!" Helena jumped off the sofa and ran to do just that.
"Tay obicham, Maika," Viktor held his mother.
"Tay obicham, Sin," Iskra hugged her oldest son for a long moment. She wiped her eyes and moved to Greg when Viktor finally let her go. "Tay obicham, Sin," she repeated to Greg in his arms.
"I love you too, Maika. We shall miss you, but we'll be back for Christmas this year. That's not so far off, right?" Greg held his mother-in-law as he reassured her.
When Helena returned from the bathroom, she hugged her cousin, aunt and, as soon as her father released her, her grandmother, in that order. She then walked over to Kliment and took his hand. Kliment followed without question as his niece silently led him out the door. Greg and Viktor followed as their daughter led Kliment around to the car. Kliment opened the rear door for her and she climbed up only to turn around and hug him at his level. Kliment happily took his niece in his arms as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
"I'll miss you most of all, uncle Cheecho," Helena nuzzled into his neck. She just naturally gravitated to men, and younger, playful, more fun men, were especially high on her list of favorite people.
"I miss you, momichentse," Kliment loved when she called him uncle in both languages.
"Are you sure you can't be gay?" Helena asked.
"I sure," Kliment answered with a sigh.
"That's okay," Helena conceded. "You're perfect just the way you are. Will you still take care of Svilen?"
"Da, always I do," Kliment answered.
"He promised he would take care of you too," Helena whispered her secret to him. Kliment closed his eyes. His brother's kid was so sweet, she was going to make him cry.
"Come on, my girl," Greg bid. "Let's get you in your seat."
Kliment let Helena down off of him onto the backseat of the car and stepped back. He turned to find himself face to face with his big brother. The Krum brothers just stood and looked into each other's eyes for a moment.
"I wish you home more," Kliment confessed. "I like when you around."
"Come here," Viktor pulled his little brother into a tight hug. Both men closed their eyes as they held each other. "I love you, Kliment," Viktor spoke in their native tongue. "I am very proud of you. I can't say that enough. You are the man here now. And you are a very good one. Take care of mother."
"I will," Kliment assured in same. "I'm very proud to be your brother, Viktor. I never miss your games. I tell everyone who will listen, that's my big brother. You are the best footballer, husband, father and brother all in one," he tightened his arms around Viktor in a strong hug and Viktor eagerly returned it. They stood that way for a long moment. Greg had long since finished strapping Helena into her booster seat for their death defying drive back to the airport, and stood quietly by. He saw that both Krum brothers had a tear in their eye when finally they pulled apart with a mutual hard clap to the back. Viktor walked around to the driver's side of the car as Kliment turned to Greg.
"Dovizhdane, Grigor," Kliment pulled the Brit into a tight hug. "Blagodarya for make my big brat so happy."
"He makes me just as happy," Greg expressed. "I shall miss you, Kliment. You are sweet and kind and funny and just one of the best chaps I know. I consider you my little brother too. The little brother I never had."
"You my big brat too?" Kliment found that sentiment very touching.
"Absolutely I am. You know I am," Greg stressed.
"In this case," Kliment squeezed Greg in a powerful bear hug, just as he had Viktor.
"Oof!" Greg grunted as the air was forced from his lungs. "You little wanker!" he pulled back and gave Kliment a kiss on his cheek that the younger man returned. Kliment stepped back and Greg noticed, as he took his place beside his partner, that the younger Krum had a smile for the first time that day. All three occupants of the vehicle returned Kliment's wave as Viktor drove them away. Greg took Viktor's hand in silent support as Viktor navigated the narrow streets of the old city. Viktor looked over at his partner with a grateful smile. They did not need words between them, but Greg figured their daughter might. He shifted around in his seat to look back at Helena.
"Will you miss baba and cousin Radka?" Greg asked.
"And lalya and Svilen and uncle Petar and especially uncle cheecho," Helena listed.
"Uncle cheecho is a pretty good chap," Greg endorsed.
'Da, he really is," Viktor agreed quietly with a gentle squeeze of Greg's hand. He let go of that hand to hold the wheel with both of his, as he knew Greg would want, when they zipped out onto a main road. It took only another fifteen minutes for them to get back to Varna Letishte. Greg fetched a cart while Viktor turned in the car. Helena shrugged out of her little, pink, princess backpack that Greg had just put on her. She was not about to bear this burden while they had a cart. Viktor piled their luggage on the cart with the backpack perched on top, and they headed into the airport. They obtained their boarding passes and checked their bags in just short of the time it took to make a child bored and whiney. From there they passed through security without incident. They were right on time and seated in the gate area no more than a minute before their flight was called for boarding. As Club Europe passengers, they were allowed to board the Airbus A319 at their leisure. With two seats in the Club cabin on each side of the aisle, Helena and Viktor were assigned row 5 seats D and F.
"Here is us," Viktor directed his daughter into their row. She climbed up into her window seat as Viktor took his aisle seat and helped her out of her backpack. Greg stowed their carry on in the bin above them before he took his seat across the aisle in 5C. Greg didn't mind being the one who sat alone, beside a stranger. People didn't latch onto him the way they sometimes did when they figured out who Viktor was.
"Put on belt," Viktor instructed. "You need help?"
"No, Tatee," Helena sat properly in her seat and made a face as she clicked the buckles together. She then held up the fastened seatbelt to demonstrate that she had far too much room.
"Look, my grown up princess," Viktor smiled at his daughter. He was proud that she knew what to do and how to do it. He reached over to tighten the belt to hold her snugly in place. "You want Leapster now?"
"Yes, Tatee," Helena agreed. "Baby wants to play too," she informed as Viktor picked up and opened her backpack.
"Baby sit with you," Viktor pulled the doll out first. He handed over the Leapster next and pulled out her games. "What game you want?"
"Dora, Tatee. We're traveling," Helena did not know how many times she would have to explain what was so simple and obvious.
"You sure? You have funny squirrel and Tickerbell," Viktor offered.
"Tatee! This is Tinkerbell," Helena pointed. "And these are penguins!" she shook her head as Viktor loaded the Dora game for her. "It's a good thing you have Daddy to look after you."
"Da," Viktor smiled and nodded. "I think is good thing too."
People continued to pass down the aisle as the plane filled. Greg and Viktor relaxed with a small glass of champagne which was only taken a moment before the Airport Agent stuck his head in the aircraft. Rather than walk the length of the plane, as regulations required, he took a quick look down the aisle and authorized the door to be closed. The lights gave a quick blink as the jet switched over to it's own power. Helena was not annoyed at having to pack everything back up temporarily while the plane took off. Taking off was her favorite part. They barely had time for the safety video, so short was their taxi at this small airport. The Captain instructed the flight attendants to take their seats only a moment before the Airbus barreled down the runway and took to the sky. In no time at all Helena was back exploring with her friend Dora as they flew home.
Three and a half hours later they landed without incident at London Gatwick Airport. Like Heathrow, there was an express train into the heart of the city, this one to Victoria Station. From there it was a simple matter of going down into the underground and taking the Circle line to Notting Hill Gate and home. With baggage claim, train and tube it added another hour onto their trip, but with the time change it was still afternoon.
Viktor carried the heavier bags while Greg opened the front door of their building, and finally the door to their flat for them.
"So good to be home it is," Viktor set the suitcase and his duffel in the hall while Helena headed for the stairs.
"Home sweet home, right?" Greg asked as he rubbed his partner's strong back.
"I gone so long," Viktor shook his head.
"Daddy, I want to call Emily and show her my new game!" Helena called up from the bottom of the stairs.
"Come back up and get the phone, then," Greg called back.
Helena ran back up and happily took Greg's offered cell.
"I best get some laundry going," Greg pulled the suitcase into the kitchen. Viktor picked up his duffel and followed. Both bags were placed atop the kitchen table and opened. Greg began to sort their clothes into piles on the floor and Viktor did the same.
"Oh, no, no. Wait just a moment," Greg pointed at the jock that landed atop the pile of whites. "What jock is that?"
"My jock," Viktor answered.
"But which one? I thought you sent your gear along with the team," Greg queried.
"That one very special," Viktor smiled.
Greg bent to pick it up and examined it. "Ah," he gave a nod. "I thought so," Greg set it on the table.
"You no want wash it?" Viktor asked.
"It's so threadbare it might not survive a spin through the wash and I can't take that chance. That particular article of your clothing is very important to me," Greg informed.
"I have other jock," Viktor stated.
"Not like this one," Greg countered. "Besides, I very much fancy the way it smells," he leaned into the strong footballer and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.
"Daddy, Tatee!" Helena ran into the kitchen. "May I go over to Emily's?" she set Greg's cell on the table.
"If her mum says it's alright," Greg agreed.
"Wait," Viktor was thoughtful. "Come here, both you."
"What? Where?" Greg asked.
"Come here," Viktor took his lover's hand and led man and child into the spacious living room of their flat. He sat on the sofa and opened his arms. "Sit with me," he bid. Greg and Helena sat on the sofa on either side of him. Viktor hugged them both to him.
"What's going on, Vik?" Greg was a little concerned. He soon learned that he needn't be.
"Family important to me. I love my family," Viktor began. "I miss them. It good see them. No family more important to me than you two. Varna where I from, but this my home. This my home, because of you two."
"Oh, Vik," Greg hugged his partner and rested his head on Viktor's shoulder.
"I love you, Tatee," Helena hugged him from the other side.
"I love you both more than anything," Viktor held them to him tightly.
"We feel the same way, Vik. We love you so much. You know we do," Greg assured.
"Da. I do know," Viktor closed his eyes and leaned his head against Greg's as he just sat and held the two people he loved most in all the world.