WISHLISTS: Worry (Draco/Viktor)
Author: themightyflynn
Recipient: smirkingcat
Title: Worry
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Viktor Krum
Request/Prompt Used: Pairing.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1127
Summary: Watching Viktor fly was always worrying. Especially when he pulled moves like that.
Notes: Yes, cat, you guessed the bloody pairing! Feel free to gloat. :) Read on Ao3
Could I get a pairing tag for these two, please?
“It’s Graves with the Quaffle… Kingston… Back to Graves… He swerves around a Bludger, dodges an opposing Chaser-”
“What’s this, though? Krum is diving!”
Draco swore profusely under his breath. Having been caught up in the match, he hadn’t been watching the Seekers. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he sought out Viktor in the air. Not that he could make out much. In his red national colours, Viktor was a colourful blur streaking through the air.
“Come on, catch him!”
“Move your arse!”
Rising to his feet with the rest of the English supporters, Draco leant as far over the railing as he dared. Viktor and the English Seeker, Stafford, were heading towards the ground at an alarming pace. Draco’s hands clenched on the railing, his heart in his throat. A combination of fear and adrenalin tingled across his skin, causing the tiny hairs on his arms to stand on end.
“Krum is in the lead…” The commentator was practically screaming to be heard over the crowd. “They are racing towards the Bulgarian goal posts… Will they catch the Snitch?”
“No, no, no. Damn it, Vik…” Draco muttered beneath his breath. “Come on…”
“Krum pulls out of the dive at the last second! Stafford cannot avoid the collision with the ground! The English Seeker is out of the match!”
Draco’s mouth opened as he watched the action, but no sound came out. A buzzing began in his ears, loud enough to make the sounds of the people around him fuzzy. The English Seeker lay crumpled on the ground at the Bulgarian goal posts. Viktor was flying up into the sky, his head flicking side-to-side in an obvious search for the real location of the Snitch. Draco vaguely recalled seeing this tactic used in other World Cup matches, but that memory was the only thing he could focus on. With his hands clenched on the railing as hard as they were, and his heart hammering in his ears, there was no chance he was going to be able to focus properly on anything else. It was only a high-pitched shriek next to him that brought him out of his daze.
“Krum has the Snitch! Krum has the Snitch!”
Draco blinked. He’d missed the end of the match. Standing frozen against the railing, he’d been too focussed on the fact that Viktor had nearly crashed yet again. Even with nine years of relationship behind them, seeing him perform moves like that still gave Draco the jitters. Not even seeing Viktor with the Snitch in hand was enough to completely stop the thudding of his heart against his ribs. The adrenalin that had built was trying to find an outlet, making Draco’s insides tremble. Closing his eyes, he tried to exhale.
“Krum’s a cheat!”
“I wish he’d crashed.”
“When’s he finally going to retire?”
The tone of the jeers surrounding him caused Draco’s top lip to curl. Forcibly unclenching his hands, he began to push his way through the crowds.
It took him nearly twenty minutes to get down to the locker-room. By the time he arrived, the buzzing in his ears had lessened a little. His heart rate was not going down, however. Flashing his ID at the guard at the door, he shoved it open and stepped inside.
“Where is he?”
Veneva, Doritsch, and Milov - the Bulgarian Chasers - all sat on one of the benches, towelling off after clearly having just showered. Milov shot Draco a grin.
“He made sure to be the last in the shower. He knew you would be here.”
Something strange crawled through Draco’s stomach at that, but he ignored it. Nodding thanks, he stalked through the locker-room towards where the steam was wafting from the showers. He didn’t bother removing his shoes, just walked straight in, leaving black streaks of mud in his wake.
“Took you long enough.”
“You bastard.”
Draco stepped directly into the stream of the shower. Viktor stood with his back to him, his hands working through his hair. Running his eyes slowly down Viktor’s body, Draco studied him closely. There didn’t seem to be any injuries beyond the old ones Viktor had been carrying for years at that point. His stance was a little off, but that was probably his poor posture. Wrapping his arms around Viktor’s waist caused him to lean back, soaking Draco’s shirt.
“I told you not to come to matches if watching me worries you that much.”
Draco hummed. “I do worry. Not just because you have no sense of self-preservation, but because one day some pissed off Seeker is going to break your nose.” He smiled when Viktor huffed out a laugh. “Again.”
Viktor let out a proper bark of laughter as he turned in Draco’s arms. “That has not happened in a long time and you know it.”
Leaning into the stream of water so he could rest their foreheads together, Draco grinned. The bend to Viktor’s nose was due to at least three broken noses. And that was only the ones that Draco knew about. Stepping closer, he pressed their lips together softly.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
The heat of the water made it a little difficult to breathe properly. At least, that was what Draco told himself, rather than focussing on the fact that he had Viktor dripping wet and naked in his arms. With the shower pouring over his face, he kept his eyes closed, so he couldn’t actually see Viktor’s reaction to his words. He didn’t need to see it, however.
“I like that you worry about me.” Viktor tightened his grip on Draco, pulling him closer to his chest. “But I am fine, I swear.”
Draco hummed again. He knew that Viktor was never truly fine. He had been playing professional Quidditch since he was sixteen, for Merlin’s sake! That was bound to have an effect on his physical well-being, no matter how good his team physician was. He could see no pressing need to question Viktor’s self-assessment this time, however. Tilting his head so he could place another chaste kiss on Viktor’s lips, Draco stepped away.
“Good. I have plans for you tonight.”
“Oh, really? So nice of you to inform me.”
Viktor’s deep laugh followed Draco as he moved off back towards the locker-room again. Letting out a breath that felt like it had been penned up for hours, Draco began to slowly relax. He did worry each time Viktor played, especially when he insisted on pulling ridiculous moves like the one he had that night. But Draco had plans for later on. If they involved tea and biscuits and massages rather than a club these days, then he was not going to object. As long as Viktor was safe, he was happy.
Recipient: smirkingcat
Title: Worry
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Viktor Krum
Request/Prompt Used: Pairing.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1127
Summary: Watching Viktor fly was always worrying. Especially when he pulled moves like that.
Notes: Yes, cat, you guessed the bloody pairing! Feel free to gloat. :) Read on Ao3
Could I get a pairing tag for these two, please?
“It’s Graves with the Quaffle… Kingston… Back to Graves… He swerves around a Bludger, dodges an opposing Chaser-”
“What’s this, though? Krum is diving!”
Draco swore profusely under his breath. Having been caught up in the match, he hadn’t been watching the Seekers. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he sought out Viktor in the air. Not that he could make out much. In his red national colours, Viktor was a colourful blur streaking through the air.
“Come on, catch him!”
“Move your arse!”
Rising to his feet with the rest of the English supporters, Draco leant as far over the railing as he dared. Viktor and the English Seeker, Stafford, were heading towards the ground at an alarming pace. Draco’s hands clenched on the railing, his heart in his throat. A combination of fear and adrenalin tingled across his skin, causing the tiny hairs on his arms to stand on end.
“Krum is in the lead…” The commentator was practically screaming to be heard over the crowd. “They are racing towards the Bulgarian goal posts… Will they catch the Snitch?”
“No, no, no. Damn it, Vik…” Draco muttered beneath his breath. “Come on…”
“Krum pulls out of the dive at the last second! Stafford cannot avoid the collision with the ground! The English Seeker is out of the match!”
Draco’s mouth opened as he watched the action, but no sound came out. A buzzing began in his ears, loud enough to make the sounds of the people around him fuzzy. The English Seeker lay crumpled on the ground at the Bulgarian goal posts. Viktor was flying up into the sky, his head flicking side-to-side in an obvious search for the real location of the Snitch. Draco vaguely recalled seeing this tactic used in other World Cup matches, but that memory was the only thing he could focus on. With his hands clenched on the railing as hard as they were, and his heart hammering in his ears, there was no chance he was going to be able to focus properly on anything else. It was only a high-pitched shriek next to him that brought him out of his daze.
“Krum has the Snitch! Krum has the Snitch!”
Draco blinked. He’d missed the end of the match. Standing frozen against the railing, he’d been too focussed on the fact that Viktor had nearly crashed yet again. Even with nine years of relationship behind them, seeing him perform moves like that still gave Draco the jitters. Not even seeing Viktor with the Snitch in hand was enough to completely stop the thudding of his heart against his ribs. The adrenalin that had built was trying to find an outlet, making Draco’s insides tremble. Closing his eyes, he tried to exhale.
“Krum’s a cheat!”
“I wish he’d crashed.”
“When’s he finally going to retire?”
The tone of the jeers surrounding him caused Draco’s top lip to curl. Forcibly unclenching his hands, he began to push his way through the crowds.
It took him nearly twenty minutes to get down to the locker-room. By the time he arrived, the buzzing in his ears had lessened a little. His heart rate was not going down, however. Flashing his ID at the guard at the door, he shoved it open and stepped inside.
“Where is he?”
Veneva, Doritsch, and Milov - the Bulgarian Chasers - all sat on one of the benches, towelling off after clearly having just showered. Milov shot Draco a grin.
“He made sure to be the last in the shower. He knew you would be here.”
Something strange crawled through Draco’s stomach at that, but he ignored it. Nodding thanks, he stalked through the locker-room towards where the steam was wafting from the showers. He didn’t bother removing his shoes, just walked straight in, leaving black streaks of mud in his wake.
“Took you long enough.”
“You bastard.”
Draco stepped directly into the stream of the shower. Viktor stood with his back to him, his hands working through his hair. Running his eyes slowly down Viktor’s body, Draco studied him closely. There didn’t seem to be any injuries beyond the old ones Viktor had been carrying for years at that point. His stance was a little off, but that was probably his poor posture. Wrapping his arms around Viktor’s waist caused him to lean back, soaking Draco’s shirt.
“I told you not to come to matches if watching me worries you that much.”
Draco hummed. “I do worry. Not just because you have no sense of self-preservation, but because one day some pissed off Seeker is going to break your nose.” He smiled when Viktor huffed out a laugh. “Again.”
Viktor let out a proper bark of laughter as he turned in Draco’s arms. “That has not happened in a long time and you know it.”
Leaning into the stream of water so he could rest their foreheads together, Draco grinned. The bend to Viktor’s nose was due to at least three broken noses. And that was only the ones that Draco knew about. Stepping closer, he pressed their lips together softly.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
The heat of the water made it a little difficult to breathe properly. At least, that was what Draco told himself, rather than focussing on the fact that he had Viktor dripping wet and naked in his arms. With the shower pouring over his face, he kept his eyes closed, so he couldn’t actually see Viktor’s reaction to his words. He didn’t need to see it, however.
“I like that you worry about me.” Viktor tightened his grip on Draco, pulling him closer to his chest. “But I am fine, I swear.”
Draco hummed again. He knew that Viktor was never truly fine. He had been playing professional Quidditch since he was sixteen, for Merlin’s sake! That was bound to have an effect on his physical well-being, no matter how good his team physician was. He could see no pressing need to question Viktor’s self-assessment this time, however. Tilting his head so he could place another chaste kiss on Viktor’s lips, Draco stepped away.
“Good. I have plans for you tonight.”
“Oh, really? So nice of you to inform me.”
Viktor’s deep laugh followed Draco as he moved off back towards the locker-room again. Letting out a breath that felt like it had been penned up for hours, Draco began to slowly relax. He did worry each time Viktor played, especially when he insisted on pulling ridiculous moves like the one he had that night. But Draco had plans for later on. If they involved tea and biscuits and massages rather than a club these days, then he was not going to object. As long as Viktor was safe, he was happy.