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Pale morning light cast a blurry grey sheen over their cottage. The kitchen was less fuzzy after Percy delicately placed his glasses on the bridge of his freckled nose. At thirty-five, he blamed his worsening eyesight on years of scanning fine print at the Ministry, ignoring that his hobbies—reading romance novels and painting miniature illustrations on acorns and leaves—weren't helping either.
Percy’s timing was impeccable; as he reached the last stair and turned into the kitchen, across the room the patio door was creaking open with deliberate slowness, but no amount of caution could silence its squeaky hinges. With a flick of his wand, Percy snapped the glass-panelled door shut again with an equally snappish, "Viktor, you can't get away with just a mug of milk every morning."
Viktor turned, running his hand through his dark hair with eyes gloomy in what Percy knew as his pouting expression.
"Perce, if I don't head out now I'll be late to meet your father at the river." Viktor held a metal tackle box at his side.
"Then you'll get caught up listening to Appleby vs Montrose on the wireless." Percy pointed emphatically at a wooden chair around a quaint breakfast nook table. "Sit down, Mr Krum-Weasley."
For a brief moment, Viktor stood his ground but quickly realised that testing his husband’s patience wasn’t worth the fallout. He slumped into the chair with a resigned, "So, what's for breakfast, then?"
A cutting board, a basket of button mushrooms and tomatoes thumped onto the tabletop in front of Krum as the kitchen lamps flared to a warm glow.
Percy was already at the hob, a blue chequered apron tying itself around his long neck. "Full English, naturally. You could use some proper nutrition and a bit of weight. And, it’s the perfect way to enjoy this beautiful Sunday in the British countryside."
Percy startled and dropped the fish slice* he was holding as warm arms wrapped him in a hug and Viktor nuzzled his nose behind Percy's ear. "It is you who look good enough to eat, my sweet."
The tender embrace sent a trill of joy through his chest, but Percy wasn't about to let it nip his irritation in the bud. Viktor hadn't been eating properly for months now.
"You'll have to try harder than that to distract me, after ten years of marriage." Percy twisted around in his husband’s arms, pecked Viktor on the forehead and then nudged him awake with an elbow. "Why do you insist on skipping meals?"
Viktor easily loped back to the table, ignoring the question. "You're too adorable not to squeeze." He began slicing the vegetables.
Percy heated the pan and charmed a bread knife to take care of slicing the wholemeal loaf. Morning peace reigned for a few minutes, but as he gathered the sliced mushrooms and tomatoes from Viktor’s cutting board, he couldn’t help but exclaim, "I'm just worried about you, you know? I know you're retired now, but that's no reason to let yourself go."
"I don't have a beer gut, Perce. And I still fly every day. Judging by the enthusiasm of our recent sex, I suspect you are not unhappy with my muscle tone."
"I wish you would get a beer gut! You're wasting away!"
Viktor shrugged. "Eating voraciously vas part of my training for most of my life, but I am not one for food. It takes much time and upsets my stomach."
Overwhelming affection and annoyance mingled strangely in Percy's gut, and he set aside the bowl, cupping Viktor's cheeks and thumbing the scrubby day-old stubble. "This is why I'm not ready for kids yet, you are enough of a child for me to look after!" He punctuated it by leaning down to kiss Viktor, who tilted his chin and clung with both hands to Percy's forearms.
What started as a frustrated affirmation of affection snowballed into heated shifting of their lips and tongues together. Percy got a hold of himself, remembering that the pan was likely overheating—the faint scent of smoke residue wafted through the air.
Percy started to straighten, but Viktor slid his broad hands to Percy's hips and lowered his rich voice to an even more sultry tone as he murmured, "You know vat I'd really love to taste right now?" Without giving Percy any time to reply, he slipped a hand under the front of the apron and traced down from Percy's navel, toying with Percy's somewhat awakened prick below pyjama bottoms.
Percy had a busy week—he worked a half-day yesterday until late evening, after which they relented and ordered Chinese via owl delivery. Perhaps the week had left them both hungry for something more than a solid breakfast. Percy had been eager to play the responsible, wholesome husband, setting his alarm early to catch Viktor before his morning fishing trip and planning to cook a hearty meal. Now, he felt a twinge of guilt for being so vulnerable to distraction. Perhaps he could view it more positively; he simply wanted to be a loving, indulgent husband and spoil his partner.
Percy threaded his fingers through Viktor's hair, not tugging away the other wizard's gaze from where it was fixated downwards. Then he slipped his glasses off his nose and banished them away to clink lightly on the kitchen worktop.
Viktor took that as consent to his seductive suggestion. He thumbed Percy's cock again, and Percy jolted, but he was startled more by the realisation that he had forgotten to turn off the hob than the arousing touch. He drew his wand from his sleeve and cast Finite incantatemover his shoulder without looking. The flame spell puffed out.
Viktor tugged Percy’s pyjama bottoms down around his knees. The front of the apron was somewhat in the way, as Viktor lowered his head and nudged his way under the chequered fabric. Being unable to see what Viktor was doing sent anticipation thrilling through Percy. He set both hands on his shoulders, feeling his knees weaken. After so many years of being together, the prospect of Viktor’s hot mouth all over him was still as brain-melting as ever.
Viktor breathed against his cock, warmth spreading from his sensitive cock all the way up to Percy’s ears. Deft fingers drew his hard length free from his pants. Percy tried to glance down again, but only Viktor’s nape was visible under the apron. So Percy closed his eyes and leant into the sensations, his arse muscles tensing under the pleasure of slow, methodical lips and tongue.
Viktor shifted his mouth up and down over Percy with languid sucks. It dragged sweet, treacle-like lust to thrum through him, his heart pounding and cheeks flushed at the thought of standing in bright morning light in their kitchen and having his hot husband milking all this bliss from him.
Percy could tell by the luxuriously slow pulls of his mouth and lapping tongue how much Viktor enjoyed sucking him off. The thought made Percy tremble even more weakly. He tended to be fairly quiet during sex. In contrast, if his mouth had been free, Viktor would be babbling in Bulgarian which Percy could only half interpret). As it was, Viktor was moaning between movements of his mouth.
The tug of orgasm gradually tightened in Percy’s muscles. The tension spreading up to his chest drew out a whimper, his mouth falling open as he shuddered out his release with an affectionate groan. “Viktor…!” Percy loved the wetness of his come mingling with saliva in the warm space between palate and teeth.
Viktor kept his tongue moving over his cock, until it stopped twitching and at last softened slightly. He swallowed, giving one last suckle to make sure it wasn’t too messy as he pulled his head away and out from under the apron. His face was flushed, a small but confident smile beaming up at Percy. “Delicious appetiser.” Viktor leaned back into his chair and wiped his mouth. His cock strained in his trousers as he folded one leg over the other.
Still sensitive, Percy shuddered again as he pulled his pyjamas up and smoothed his palms over the apron. “I didn’t wake at the crack of dawn for this,” he mumbled, trying not to show how pleased he was, but his eyes on Viktor’s crotch betrayed his eagerness to give as good as he’d got.
As Percy sank to his knees, a loud knock at the door startled him. He sprang up instantly, his face reddening with embarrassment as he realised who might be calling on a Sunday morning just past dawn.
“Hello! Top o’ the morning!” Arthur’s voice trilled jokingly, and he let himself in with a loud bang of the patio door. He leant two fishing rods against the wall and stepped up to the table, popping a slice of tomato in his mouth.
Viktor readjusted and shuffled his chair closer to the breakfast nook table, letting the tablecloth cover his bulging lap and assuming a nonchalant lean.
After clearing his throat, Percy said as brightly as he could, “Morning, Dad,” before retreating to the hob. “I was just about to put some eggs and sausage on.”
Arthur peered around at the empty pan with a confused lift of eyebrows. “Didn’t Viktor tell you that I always bring sandwiches for a morning nibble? No need to go through all this trouble.”
Percy shot a narrow-eyed look at Viktor, who shrugged. “You are alvays so eager to cook for me, how could I deny you that?”
Loosening his grip on the pan handle, all the enthusiasm drained from Percy. Or it might just be the afterglow from the post-dawn delight two minutes earlier.
Viktor’s warm hug enveloped him from behind, strong arms squeezing tight. From over his shoulder, a warm cheek nuzzled into the side of Percy’s face. Viktor had got his boner under control, as Percy didn’t feel anything against his arse as Viktor embraced him. His husband’s rich voice reassured him, “How about you save the tomatoes and mushrooms for an afternoon quiche? Take your time baking. I look forvard to it.”
“Sounds like a plan, those sickle-scaled pixie trout won’t wait forever!” Arthur chimed enthusiastically, already heading back to the door.
Viktor leaned closer to whisper hotly into Percy’s ear. “And I’m looking forvard to continuing our lovely ‘appetisers’ together, too.”
As he saw Viktor and his father off, Percy was somewhat annoyed at himself for how contented a simple blowjob on a clear beautiful morning had made him. He repositioned his glasses to perch on his nose. The satisfaction settled even more heavily into his chest as Percy thought about a quiet morning followed by the promise of afternoon delight to come.
