Viktory for the Cannons

"You do not vant go? Your Cannons are playing," Viktor said as he gathered his cloak and prepared to head out to the Quidditch match.

"Yes, I want to go, but I've got practical exams tomorrow at the Auror Academy. I have to study, and there's not much time left after helping George out in the shop during the day." Ron motioned at all of the books, parchment and quills laid out before him on their bed.

"You vork too hard, love," said Viktor, sitting beside him. "I vill help George in shop next veek. You look—vat is vord? Much tired."

Ron gave a disgusted sigh, "The word is exhausted. And I can barely hold my fuckin' eyes open." Viktor began massaging Ron's shoulder muscles. "If you start that I'm never going to get my studying done. Go to the match and let me get this finished, so I might actually get some sleep tonight. Besides, you know George won't let you help out after what happened last time." Ron's eyes closed as Viktor continued to work out the tension in his shoulder muscles.

"Vas not my fault!"

Ron tossed his quill aside and attempted to move away from Viktor, "You have to stop with the massage or I'm going to fall asleep. Whether it was your fault or not, that crazy fan of yours set off an entire case of fireworks in the middle of Diagon Alley to try and scare everyone away so he could get you off by yourself. Most of the shop owners thought they were under attack."

"You are jealous," said Viktor with a smug smirk on his face.

Ron scowled at him. "Go on. I need to study. Hermione will be here in less than an hour to quiz me." Ron's tone was sharper than usual, revealing his irritation at both missing the Cannons game and having to study for an exam he was nowhere near ready to take.

Viktor paid little attention to his lover's cheeky responses or his sour tone. He only shook his head and chuckled as he leaned in and kissed Ron on the forehead. "Happy studying, love. Tell Hermy-own-ninny I said hello, and ve vill expect her for dinner tomorrow, no?"

"I'll tell her."

"Ve continue standing vager?" Viktor asked.

"Yeah, yeah. If the Cannons win, I get a blowjob. If they lose, and they always do, you get it. One of these days, I'm going to actually win the bet, you know."

Viktor laughed as he turned on his heel and headed for the fireplace. "I hope not. I like it best ven you lose. I hope ven I get back, you no be such – How Hermy-own-ninny say? Cranky puss?"

"Ha ha." Ron retorted to Viktor's retreating back.

Ron awoke to the warm, wet heat of his lover's mouth engulfing his semi-hard cock. Viktor's hand stroked in time with the movements of his mouth up and down, eliciting moans from deep within Ron's throat.

His back arched off the bed and he buried one hand in Viktor's hair, as his other reached for where he last recalled having his inkwell. Amazing blowjob or not, Viktor would be none too happy if ink spilled all over the duvet. He might even stop what he was doing. Ron wasn't willing to take that chance. He felt for it with his hand, but found nothing. "Did you put away my things?"

"Um-hm," Viktor hummed around his cock.

"Merlin, please do that again," Ron begged.

Viktor obliged and Ron's hips thrust up involuntarily launching himself farther down his lover's throat as he came in an orgasm so intense that he was still trembling and breathless when Viktor lay down behind him. He pulled Ron's back firmly against his chest and placed feather-light kisses on his shoulders, back and neck.

"Zat did not take long. Has been vhile since I got to do zat to you. Is nice, no?" asked Viktor, as his fingers lazily stroked up and down the side of Ron's hip.

"I had almost forgotten what it felt like," said Ron. "About fuckin' time the Cannons managed to pull out a win."

Viktor nibbled on his ear and whispered, "I vould have done zat ven zee Cannons lost too."

"What would have been the point in making our bet at the beginning of the season then?"

Viktor shook his head in confusion. "Vy you like zee Cannons? They made you miss much good sucking this season, no? Vy make silly bet?"

"It's just something blokes do to show loyalty to their team, you know?"

"No, I not understand this silliness."

"Are you complaining that you've won all season? If so, I'm not doing something right."

"No, you do it right. But tonight iI/i got do it. Now ve can sleep."

"But don't you want me to— I mean you didn't get to--"

"I vant you to sleep, so you not fall asleep during test. I make you relaxed, no?"

"I'm definitely relaxed now."

"Good. Close eyes, love." Viktor threw his arm across Ron's waist and stroked his hair in the way that always put Ron right to sleep. Tonight was no different.

Ron awoke the next morning to the sound of the shower running and an owl pecking at his arm in an irritated manner. Ron dropped three Knuts into the little pocket attached to the owl's leg, and it dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet in Ron's lap before flying out the window.

The paper fell open as Ron rose from the bed. He stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was heading off to join Viktor in the shower when a headline caught his eye. 'Losing Streak Continues for Cannons'.

Fin.