February 1997

Snapes' family home

"Potion-making is called an art for a reason, son. It demands attention and knowledge," said Severus as he was walking out of the lab with James.

"Yeah, I get it. it's just that you and mum make it look so easy," James replied, clearly upset for having reached a standstill in his potions studies.

"Well, we've both been studying it for many years," Severus explained, "Your mother's been brewing since she was eight. I've been reading about ingredients and spells since I was nine. You'll get there eventually."

"With patience," the teenager sighed.

"A lot of patience," nodded Severus.

They reached the dining table, where Florence and Nicholas already were sitting and waiting for dinner.

"Becoming a Potions Master is not as easy as you thought, James?" Florence asked.

"Absolutely not, mum," he sat across from her, to his father's left. "It's amazing how you make it look so easy."

"Same with charms, man," Nicholas said, shaking his head, "I have the intention, but not enough knowledge to properly make a functioning original spell. You'd think it's just words, but there's meaning, intonation, reasoning and even feelings involved."

"You two did know both areas of study have few Masters," Florence reminded them.

"Yeah, mum," said James, "But we thought it was because people are dumb and lazy, not because both are truly hard subjects."

"We never even studied at Durmstrang for Potions, Charms or Curses tests," added Nicholas, "We always excelled with very little hard work."

Severus chuckled, "Had you two gone to Hogwarts, you'd scream in boredom at what we are allowed to teach there."

Florence was about to compare what she thought of the curriculum of both Hogwarts and Durmstrang, but she was interrupted by sudden green sparks shooting out of the fireplace.

The four of them jumped from their chairs, running to the living room with their wands in hand.

"What's happening?" asked Nick, worried.

"Someone is trying to enter the house through the Floo from an unauthorised place," Severus explained, approaching the sparking fireplace, quickly identifying where they were coming from, his voice heavy with concern: "It's from Little Hangleton," he looked at Florence and they both knew what that meant: they were about to be tested.

She walked to her husband and looked into his eyes before kissing his lips briefly but passionately.

The twins watched all of that with similar frowns of confusion and worry.

Do you know what's happening? James asked his brother.

Maybe... dad said Little Hangleton... and by the way they're worried and kissing...

You think grandfather is coming here? Finished James, feeling his mouth go dry.

Nick just nodded.

They saw their father bring their mother's left hand to his lips and kiss her wedding ring.

"Together, love," he whispered.

"Together," she replied, touching their foreheads together before turning to look at the twins, telling them: "Occlumency barriers up! Do NOT kneel in front of him! Address him as grandfather – NOT my Lord. Let your father and me do most of the talking. Also: DO NOT make eye contact for longer than a couple of seconds!"

Once the twins nodded and had successfully (and subtly) occluded, Florence turned to the fireplace, glanced at her husband once more, and moved her wand in front of the sparking green flames, allowing the floo to complete the journey.

Within seconds, a tall, bald, slender man dressed in a black suit walked out of the green flames and into the living room. His skin was pale grey, and he was clearly missing his nose. His piercing green eyes – the same green eyes that could be seen in other two faces in that room – briefly stopped on each of the four people standing there.

"Father," Florence greeted him.

Severus had kneeled to her left and the twins, to her right, bowed their heads, looking down at their feet, obeying their mother's order to not kneel.

"Florence, my dear daughter," Voldemort spoke, walking to her and embracing her as awkwardly as every other time he had done that before, "Do I interrupt?"

"No, father. We were about to have dinner. Will you join us?" she invited him as nicely as she would Eileen.

"Of course. I was hoping you'd say that," he kissed her forehead and turned to her husband, "Severus, rise my most loyal servant."

Severus obeyed, "My Lord."

Voldemort then looked at the twins and his mouth quirked up in what seemed to be an approving smile.

"What do we have here?" he looked both boys up and down, "Absolutely no doubt who fathered you two, eh?" he moved his hands in front of the boys and briefly closed his eyes, "Yes, both very powerful young wizards. Who is who?"

"I'm James, grandfather," he raised his head and, if he was afraid of the man in front of him, he didn't show a flicker of fear.

"I'm Nicholas, grandfather."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased by the way the boys were addressing him; but he looked at his daughter, knowing the twins' behaviour was her doing.

Florence held his gaze, explaining firmly: "They're not your pawns – they're my sons, they're in their house and you're family here. In front of others, they'll kneel and call you whatever you ask them to. But in here, they'll show you deference and respect – as they do their grandmother."

Severus glanced at Florence, she had just told the Dark Lord he'd be as respected as Eileen in their home. He couldn't deny he was surprised by how she talked to the Lord. Despite all his years working for the man – and the fifteen years he and Florence were married – Severus had never seen them together before. The air around them nearly shimmered with energy as father and daughter talked and glanced at each other – it was both unnerving and mesmerising to witness.

Voldemort was looking at the twins again, smiling and nodding.

"She's right, you know – unsurprisingly. Your mother always knows what to say. And I'm very pleased with you two. Handsome and powerful."

The twins bowed their heads in a silent thank you, letting him do the talking and avoiding long eye contact like Florence had ordered them to.

"I can see you're fully healed, James," Voldemort said, touching a hand to the teenager's shoulder.

And Florence had never been prouder of her son than in that moment, for he didn't even flinch at the unexpected contact, James actually smiled and exhaled as if relieved to be speaking to him about that.

"Yes, grandfather. Apart from a small fear of pools, I'm fine. Mum saved me," he looked at his mother.

"I know. Brilliant witch your mother is," said Voldemort, glancing at her with pride in his eyes and then looking back at James, "But I heard you, young man, also acted quickly and took a bezoar as soon as you noticed something was off."

"Yes," James confirmed, "We both always carry one on us. Dad taught us that."

"Good. Severus is always one for self-preservation. And I must say it's an admirable trait. I'm just like that myself," Voldemort looked at Severus, before his eyes found Florence's again and he had a satisfied smile in his ophidian face, "I see no problem with them calling me grandfather. We are family, after all."

"Right," she snorted, "And the fact they're clever, powerful and handsome had no weight in your decision."

Voldemort laughed, a short-lived cold sound that could easily make anyone hearing it doubt if that was a sound of mirth or scorn.

"True," he admitted, "Were they puny, dumb and ugly, I'd never allow it. But I'm sure you knew that."

Florence just smiled and called for their house elf: "Tiffany!"

And she appeared, bowing at the sight of him, "Yes, Mistress Florence?" she waited for the Lord to talk to her – she had learned, in the most painful way, to never talk to him before being talked to.

"Tiffany Tiffany," whispered Voldemort, "You haven't changed a thing."

"Master Peverel is too kind," the elf replied, keeping her head unusually down.

"Set the table for us, Tiffany. Father is staying for dinner," Florence said, then she looked at Voldemort and motioned the sofa, "Sit, father. Can I get you anything to drink? We do have a very well-stacked wine cellar here, you know," she smirked.

He laughed, "Don't I know it! How I miss my wines!"

"That's your collection?" asked Nicholas, impressed, finding that a subject he could easily talk about.

Florence glanced at her son, her eyes hard and reproachful, for he had started a conversation with her father when she had expressly told them not to.

"Yes," nodded Voldemort, ignoring his daughter's displeased gaze, "I selected each bottle carefully. There are only the best elven wines in that cellar. That's something that those elves can do: wine."

Nicholas and James nodded in agreement.

"We studied wine-making because of your collection. We find it very interesting," said James.

"Yes. It is a fascinating subject," Voldemort seemed truly please with the boys as he sat on one armchair, "There are some 1960s Pinot Noir I bought when your mother was born."

"A Romanee-Conti?" asked James.

"Yes. Do you still have it?"

"Certainly, grandfather," nodded Nick, "It has mum's name on the label. We'd never drink anything with mum's name on it," he laughed, standing up, "I'll go get it!"

"It's a highly prized wine nowadays," said James, "Its retail price is around five thousand galleons a bottle."

"Really? You must have around ten bottles in the cellar," said Voldemort, impressed.

"Mistress Florence?" Tiffany whispered.

"Yes, Tiffany?"

"Dinner is served, Mistress," and the elf bowed again.

They all walked to the table then, which had been thankfully transfigurated by Tiffany; the usually rectangular table was now round – to avoid giving her father Severus' place at the head of the table.

Florence had to remind herself to put another pretty dress in the driveway for Tiffany "to find", as a thank you gift.

Tiffany had prepared them a delicious meal of honey roast duck, rice and a green salad; which they enjoyed with the fancy wine Nicholas had got from the cellar.

"This is absolutely perfect," said Voldemort, clearly happy with that situation, "You know, Florence, hadn't your mother explicitly given Tiffany to you, I'd never have let her leave my service. She's a marvellous cook. I've never had another elf that cooks this amazingly."

"Who cooked for you after I left?" Florence asked, considering that a safe conversation topic.

"Klaus."

"He wasn't that bad," she turned to her husband and sons and explained: "Klaus was a young elf that used to help Tiff in the kitchens, so he learned a lot from her."

"Yes, he wasn't bad," agreed Voldemort, "I didn't starve, and he's better now. But it's still nothing near as delicious as this!" he sipped his wine before continuing, "On that note: I must thank you for taking such a good care of the elves and the manor while I was gone."

Florence slowly cut her meat and looked at her father, sensing they were quickly reaching a somewhat unsafe topic.

"Well, father, according to Dumbledore, you'd be back," she replied, "And... despite all our differences of opinion in the past, that is your house, and you're my father. I wouldn't want you to return and have no place to go."

He smiled, "So you believed I'd be back?"

"Never doubted it," she truthly admitted.

"But you hated me after the first war," Voldemort affirmed.

And there it was: completely unsafe conversation topic – borderline dangerous.

"Of course I hated you," Florence didn't even try to deny it, but thought carefully of what she was going to say next.

Meanwhile, the three dark-haired men around the table looked at her.

Severus easily ranked that moment as one of the three most nerve-wracking of his life; being unable to communicate with Florence through their bond due to the constant need for occlumency, left him having absolutely no idea what she was about to say or do.

"I lost my friends because of you," she continued, accusingly, and they all felt the air go heavy with resentment, "However," she briefly paused, "Shortly after that fateful Halloween night, Severus and I got together again," she looked at her husband, "And year after year, as the rumours about you not being gone surged, we talked," she touched her hand to Severus', "And he slowly convinced me that you were right."

Voldemort had a strange glint in his green eyes, "But you still don't fully trust me."

Florence smiled, for she had allowed him to see that in her mind.

"No. Not fully. You can be very unpredictable, father. But I trust my husband – and Severus trusts you in such a way that it makes me wonder if he wouldn't choose you instead of me again, like he did once in the past."

Severus smiled at her, unable to let her know he knew exactly what she was doing: playing to her father's ego. So he said: "I hope I never have to choose, my love," and kissed her wedding ring.

The twins rolled their eyes.

"Can't you two stop the PDA for one night?" complained James.

"Yeah, at least for tonight?" added Nick, "Respect our grandfather!"

Florence smiled at them, seeing that Nick was supporting his brother's complaint as if it was a regular thing he did; they were helping them escape a possible trap.

"The kids find us embarrassing, father," she explained.

"You didn't like seeing your mother kissing me when you were a kid either, Florence," revealed the Lord.

That had James looking at his mother, "You don't say, grandfather? So dad isn't the only one responsible for the jealousy gene I inherited?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, father," said Florence, sipping her wine, and dismissing that conversation.

And they all laughed.

After dessert, and two more wine bottles, Severus walked the Dark Lord to the backyard, showing him the changes they had done to the yard in the years since he had last been there; he told him about the garden pond and the pool, and gave him details about the night of James' poisoning.

"Luckily, Florence is such an amazing healer," concluded Severus, shivering at the memory of seeing his son turning blue by the pool.

"Lucius will pay dearly, Severus. You can be sure of that," said the Lord, firmly, "His son is already cracking; and in a few months, when we take full control of the Ministry, I'll get Lucius out of Azkaban, and then the boy will finally break," he smiled evilly.

That had Severus frowning, "If you don't mind me asking, my Lord, but... what do you mean?"

"Lucius has been offering Narcissa up as payment for favours long before going to Azkaban. The boy's decision to take my Mark to protect her is just a temporary solution. As soon as Lucius is back, you can be sure Cissy will be passed around again."

Severus forced himself to not show the depth of the disgust he felt, "Are the Malfoy's vaults empty?"

"Hardly. It's just that Lucius enjoys watching others using his wife."

Severus swallowed his anger and managed to speak in his regular voice, showing just disappointment: "I watched Draco grow and... I must say I'll never understand a man who abuses his wife and children," he shook his head.

"Me neither, Severus," Voldemort agreed, "My wife was precious to me. I trained Florence, as she must've told you, and I wasn't easy on her, but out of the training room, I never hit her in anger or as punishment for misbehaviour."

"Not even when she was expelled?" Severus asked, out of curiosity.

The Lord chuckled, "No. I was actually glad the day she blew up Beauxbatons' tea court and was expelled. For I had promised her mother she'd finish her studies there, but I wanted to send her to Durmstrang. So that gave me an excuse to transfer her."

He paused, glancing at the pool again, before adding: "Lucius had respect, money, a beautiful wife, a handsome son and all the best opportunities in life handed to him in a silver platter – and that's why he threw it all away."

He put a hand on Severus' shoulder, looking at him, "I remember the first time I met you, Severus, at the Malfoys' wedding. You were just sixteen years old, with nothing but talent and determination; eager to be accepted by those rich berks who were ridiculously below you intellectually – you reminded me of myself."

Voldemort motioned the backyard and the house, "Now look at you: a Master at your field, with more money than you know what to do with, married to a healer – a gorgeous woman – who happens to be my daughter. Men like Lucius Malfoy have the right blood-status, but lack honour. Men like us forge their own path and honour their family, respecting wives and children."

He paused again, his green eyes getting their usual unforgiving gleam, "I'll finish the Malfoys, I have no use for them anymore."

Voldemort paused, smiling: "I'll be honest with you, Severus, I came here tonight to unsettle you, to see if you'd squirm in my presence like Lucius does. But, you didn't – you never have, in fact. And then I met your boys, and I couldn't have been more pleased. I came here to surprise you, but I was the one most surprised tonight. I am proud to call those two my grandsons."

Severus finally felt it was safe to speak: "Thank you, my Lord. I'm honoured to hear that."

"And Florence is as powerful, clever and beautiful as ever. You're a lucky man, Severus."

"I'm well-aware of that, my Lord. Your daughter is a treasure and I do my best to treat her as such."

Voldemort smiled, "It still amazes me how you can refer to her as my daughter," he looked at the well-lit backyard, "Soon everyone will know; after you kill Dumbledore, and my plan to take over the Ministry is put into place, we'll reveal who Florence is and she'll become our Minister of Magic."

"Just let us know when and where, we'll be there, my Lord."

"I'm sure you will," he touched Severus' shoulder, "I must go now. Seal the fireplace again, after I leave, I don't want Bella or any other death eater coming here. Florence will certainly murder them on sight."

Severus chuckled, "She certainly will, my Lord."

They walked back into the living room and Florence approached them, the twins beside her.

"I'll be going now," Voldemort said.

"Well, I was about to offer you a fourth wine bottle, father."

He smiled, "No, no, my dear. If I drink anymore, I won't be able to give Bella the attention she'll most likely be seeking tonight."

Florence grimaced, "I definitely didn't need to know that."

Voldemort laughed, "I had the best of nights, my dear," he touched her face once more, weirdly affectionate, "I'd like to have more moments like this."

She nodded, "Let us know you are coming, next time, and I can ask Tiffany to prepare mother's favourite meal."

A strangely warm smile formed on the pale ophidian face, "Wouldn't that be nice. The Coq au vin, the baked camembert..."

"And the îles flottantes," finished Florence.

Severus watched their interaction, and it finally sank in that the Dark Lord was part of his wife's childhood memories – that was the man who had fathered her and raised her for seven years.

"I'd certainly like to have that again," Voldemort's voice was soft and pleasant, "Next time."

Florence nodded and watched her father approach the twins.

"I'm glad your mother hid you two from me when you were born – I'd have likely killed you then; but now I'm proud to hear you call me grandfather. You might do so when we're in public in the future. Such brilliant wizards you are, I want the whole world to know you're my grandsons."

Florence seemed surprised by that, "Thank you, father. That means a lot."

"Thank you, grandfather," said James, bowing slightly in deference.

"We're proud to be your grandsons," added Nicholas.

Next, Voldemort turned to the fireplace and picked up some Floo powder.

"You two should consider having more kids," he said to his daughter.

"Oh, no," Florence chuckled, "We have our hands full already, father!"

Voldemort just smiled, throwing down the floo powder and calling for Little Hangleton.

Severus locked the Floo Network again to avoid any more unwanted visitors from the Lord's house.

And, after two silent seconds, the twins let out a loud relieved sigh.

Florence walked to them and pulled them both into a hug.

"You two did so well," she praised them.

"We did well?" asked James, surprised, "You were amazing, mum! We were terrified at first, but as we watched you talking to him, we were able to relax a little."

"And we were impressed by him, actually," said Nicholas, "He's a very intelligent man."

"Of course he is," said Severus, "To do all that he has done, he couldn't possibly be dumb."

"That's true," conceded Florence, looking at her sons and her husband, "This night could've gone so wrong, but it was pleasant – despite the constant need of occlumency. And you two didn't show an ounce of fear," she pulled them into another hug, "I love you, babies."

"Love you, mum," they said in unison.

Severus hugged her from the back, surrounding her; Florence sighed, letting go of the boys and turning around to hug her husband.

"I love you, Sev."

"Love you, princess."

"Princess?" The twins exclaimed.

Severus suddenly realised he'd never called her by that nickname in front of the kids.

"That's what your mother is," he kissed her deeply, "My sweet princess."

The twins groaned in disgust.

"Stop it!" complained James, "Just when I thought you two couldn't be more disgusting."

Florence ran her hands through Severus' hair, glad that they had all survived that night.

I need a strong drink, a long bath and my sexy husband. She whispered in his mind, caressing down his chest.

"Carry me upstairs, love," she demanded, and Severus chuckled before kissing her lips again.

James rolled his eyes, "Can't you two be anymore obvious?"

"Well, we can remove the silencing spell," said Florence, being picked up by her husband and carried towards the stairs.

"Mum," Nicholas spoke, sounding serious, "We won't be spending the night home."

Florence had Severus stop half-way up the stairs, and she was about to protest when he spoke in her mind:

They need this, Flor. They probably realised tonight they won't have much longer with their partners. Let them go.

"Where will you go?" she asked them.

"Hogwarts," James said.

"Diagon Alley," Nicholas said.

Florence nodded and they both flooed out.

Severus kept on carrying her the rest of the way upstairs, "Let them enjoy their night. They've earned it."

"Yes, they have," she agreed.

He walked into their bathroom, magically turning on the bathtub tap, setting Florence down by the tub, kissing her lips and removing her clothes slowly; he caressed her body as he slid the fabric of her dress down her curves, kissing her neck as he unhooked her bra and pushed her knickers to the floor.

"You're torturing me, Severus," Florence moaned.

"I'm worshipping you tonight, wife," he whispered sensually, "I loved watching you handle your father like you did, completely dismissive, setting the rules to be followed inside our home..." he kissed up her shoulder, lightly biting her neck, "I want to see all that power and control of yours melting under me, hear you moaning as I pleasure you..."

Florence sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his lips, letting him ravish her mouth and take control of her head as they kissed.

"What we went through tonight, Sev... it was surreal."

"It sure was, love," he kissed her slowly, "But you... you were incredible, Florence."

"Nah, it may have seemed like that to you but... he raised me, Severus. Kids are naturally sassy with their parents – as we both very well know. I always had a good relationship with him – despite his aloofness."

"It's terrifying to watch him hug and touch you," he shook his head.

"And watching him with the twins wasn't?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. But they did so well. I was truly impressed with the boys."

"Me too," she said, magically vanishing his clothes, "Now, I believe I heard something about worshipping..."

Severus chuckled and did well on his promise, showing her all his love and devotion by pleasuring her.

They had had a small victory that night as a family, they should celebrate it.

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts

James walked out of the fireplace and into his father's private quarters in the dungeons and quickly cast a tracking spell to find his girlfriend, using one of Hermione's hair strands he had found on his clothes.

His spell easily found her and he focused on her location, disapparating.

As soon as he appeared in a well-lit corridor, he hid behind a column and looked around, spotting Hermione walking towards him, but she hadn't seen him yet.

He cast a repelling spell in the corridor, stopping anyone from walking in on them, and then he put out all the sconces on the walls at once.

Hermione was patrolling the corridors as it was her duty as Prefect, checking if no students were out of bed past curfew, when, suddenly, the corridor she was in just went pitch black.

"Homenum revelio," she immediately cast, and the spell let her know she wasn't alone – someone had darkened the corridor on purpose, "I know there's someone here! Reveal yourself! Or I'll do it for you!"

Then she heard a chuckle – and she knew that chuckle.

"James? I'll fucking hex you for scaring me!"

He turned the sconces back on and quickly walked to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her, feeling her anger melting away as she fisted a hand in his hair. He hoisted her up, both hands under her arse, and pressed her against the wall.

"I'm taking you to my new room here in the castle," he whispered over her lips, hearing her moan affirmatively, "Hold on to me," he ordered.

She obeyed, not knowing what he was about to do.

"Promise me you won't ask me any questions," James said, knowing his girlfriend too well.

Hermione looked at him, his hard body pressing her against the wall, his very talented hands caressing her thighs, his sexy lips so close to hers; she sucked on his bottom lip and replied: "Ok. As long as you fuck me in the next ten minutes, I won't ask any questions."

Then he smirked and apparated them both.

Hermione saw the corridor go out of focus and a small bedroom take form around her.

They had apparated!

She gasped, "You can apparate inside Hogwarts! No one can apparate in the school!"

"No questions, kitten, You promised," he reminded her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, realising he had tricked her into promising that.

James let her put her feet on the floor and caressed her face, "Listen, love, I'll tell you all about it one day, ok? Just not right now. I need you tonight."

Hermione frowned, looking into his dark eyes and clearly seeing he wasn't his usual self that night, "What happened, Jamie?" she softly asked.

He shook his head, "I can't tell you, love. Not tonight. But one day I will."

She stared into his eyes for a while longer and then she nodded, pulling him down for a kiss and letting him take control of her body and senses as he always did.

But later, when they lay naked side-by-side and James fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, holding onto her as if she might disappear any minute, Hermione felt certain something wasn't right with her boyfriend.

Meanwhile above the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley

Nicholas walked out of the fireplace and into his boyfriend's living room; the very well-organised, tastefully-decorated flat contrasted violently with the colours and the mess of the jokeshop below. He smiled, feeling just as comfortable there as he felt in his own home, and walked to Fred's bedroom.

The door was locked, but one touch of his wand to the doorknob and it unlocked for him.

He walked in and locked the door again.

The only light illuminating the room was the light of the TV – Fred had the awful habit of sleeping with that thing on.

But that night, Nick was glad he did, for he could easily see his boyfriend asleep on his stomach, wearing just a pair of dark red boxer-briefs.

Nicholas removed his own clothes and lay down naked beside him, kissing his back, moving up to his neck.

Fred turned on his side and murmured something, raising his hand to touch Nick's head.

"Are you real?" Fred whispered, "I've had this kind of dream before."

Nick chuckled and slowly flipped his boyfriend onto his back, positioning himself between his legs, kissing his lips rather desperately, loving to feel his smaller frame under him.

"What happened, Nicky?" Fred asked, caressing the long black strands as Nick kissed his neck, "I've known you long enough to be able to tell that something is bothering you."

"I... I can't talk about it," Nick sighed, touching his forehead to Fred's chest.

"Ok. I can imagine it's got something to do with your father's role in the war."

"Yes. It does," Nick looked at him, "I need you, Red."

And Fred pulled him down for a sensuous kiss,

After they had both found their releases, Fred, lay on top of his boyfriend, "Fucking perfect you are, Nicky," he said between breaths, "Gorgeous, intelligent, sexy, and an animal in bed," he looked up and kissed him slowly, "Will you marry me, Nicholas?"

Nick looked at him with a smile, thinking he was joking since his was a playful nature, but Fred was looking at him with the most serious expression he had ever seen in his lightly-freckled face, "Are you really proposing, Fred?"

The redhead blushed as red as his hair, suddenly embarrassed and insecure, "Yes. I am. We don't have to marry now. It can be a year or two from now... but, if you don't, if that's not..."

"Yes," Nicholas stopped him, "Yes! I'll marry you, Fred," he flipped them over, getting between his lags again, "Of course I'll marry you!"

Fred wrapped his arms around him and smiled widely, "So fuck me more, fiancée!"

"Aren't you sore?" asked Nick, not wanting to hurt him.

"Not enough to stop this," Fred smiled broadly, looking into Nick's green eyes, "I love you, Nicky."

"I love you, Red."

But hours later, after they were finally completely spent and sated, after they had showered together before lying in bed again, Nicholas lay awake beside his, now, fiancée and held him tightly, wishing more than anything that he could be certain that Fred would still want to marry him in a year.