My Konstantine

Chapter One


After he looked back on it all, he decided he really didn’t have any idea how it started. Once his mother let go, the three of them stood in the foyer, forming a triad amidst the deathly silent harmonies of that something. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but he knew it was there, crackling between them as his mother stood onward, observing the wordlettrattraction.

She was tactful enough to pretend she didn’t notice.

“Well, Percy, dear, come on then, to the kitchen with you—and you too, Tonks, you look as if you haven’t eaten all afternoon…”

Her blue eyes held his heavy stare, sparkling with amusement before he automatically followed his mother down the hall and into the kitchen. She trailed one step behind him, her hand brushing against his as walked, and he swore she purposely swung her hand against his backside.

Hen’t n’t mind. In fact, if he was to be truthful, he rather enjoyed it, to which the tightening in his lower regions was evidence.

When Mrs. Weasley pushed open the kitchen door, Percy immediately snapped to attention as eleven pairs of eyes shot his way. He counted six heads covered with bright red hair—his father and all of his siblings, minus Charlie, who was still off in Romania—along with a variety of other people, including Harry Potter and Mundungus Fletcher.

“’Ello,” he mumbled, suddenly very interested in his boots. A chorus of murmured replies met his ears a moment later, and to his surprise none of them sounded hostile.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he had fully expected to be hung up by his toenails and hammered to the wall before forgiveness for his duplicity, for the treason he had committed against his family and all that was good, would be granted.

“Come sit down, both of you,” his mother insisted, gesturing toward two places next to one another on the bench. Percy complied, slowly making his way across the room, fully aware that every pair of eyes was focused on him, including the woman’s who stood behind him.

Those were the only eyes he was interested in seeing.

He heard her gentle footsteps as she followed him to the bench, and after he had taken his seat, she swung one leg over—one long and magnificent leg he was destined to touch, taste, and straddle as he made love to her. Just as she was about to settle, she fell off-balance and, with a soft and startled cry, she landed directly in his lap. Her hand managed to capture his shoulder and the curved flesh of her backside was pressed perfectly against the hardened flesh between his legs. He blushed and, once her light laughter subsided, she pulled herself off of him and righted herself on the bench.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Percy,” she said with a smile that showed off her perfectly white teeth—a rarity in Britain, he admitted to himself. It was her abilities as a metamorphmagus that gave her the chance to make herself beautiful, and on that particular day Percy couldn’t imagine there being anything that could even begin to rival her splendor.

“T-that’s all right,” he managed to squeak out, and once again their eyes met, although this time there was something else—that same something he couldn’t quite identify—that was heavy in hirthirthful gaze. She knew exactly what it was that she had felt, and she knew that it had been she who had caused him to react in such a manner.

When he looked back on that moment, he decided that that was the exact moment he fell in love with her.

He never knew if she had ever fallen in love with him though.

Incomparable was a word he would later use to describe her, but at that moment, as his world shut out everything but her, images of everything he had always wanted floated before him; candy at which he had always gazed mournfully when he was a third-year without a single knut to his name, the popularity of his older brothers, and her, when she sashayed across the Common Room, her hips swinging and her eyes upon her latest prey.

He had never seen her kiss anyone, but he was sure that in the middle of the night, she and the boys with whom she spent her time were still sitting upon the overstuffed sofas of the Common Room she favored, the lack of light shrouding everever personal ventures upon which they had decided to embark. He loved her for her mystery and he loved her for the childish delight with which she saw everything.

Their gaze broke when his mother cleared her throat, and after a mumbled apology, Percy began to eat, keeping his eyes trained downward toward his plate. He ate small forkfuls of the roast his mother had undoubtedly prepared, relishing the taste of decent home cooking for the first time in over a year. He hassedssed his mother.

Then, with twelve people sitting around them, he felt her light touch upon his knee. When he looked up, questions suddenly ablaze in his mind, he saw her talking and laughing with his younger sister.

But still, even with her girlish words directed toward the fifteen-year-old, her hand continued to creep upward until Percy felt his face redden with—with what, he didn’t know. It certainly wasn’t embarrassment, nor was it shame.

It was that something again.

Her fingers brushed the clothing that covered the sensitive flesh between his legs and, much to his mortification, he felt himself stiffen to a visible level—with his entire family sitting around them. Caught in a battle between enjoyment and pride, he glanced down at his lap and, under the guise of brushing a crumb off of his leg, he reached down to cover her hand with his own.

Even then, she didn’t glance his way.

By the way she curled her fingers up against him, he was sure she expected him to move her hand away. However, the thought of removing the delicate whisper of her fingertips was almost too much to bear; instead, with a boldness that startled even himself, Percy began to stroke the inside of her palm with his thumb and slowly guided her pointer finger up to the tip of the erection he had been nursing since their skin had first come in contact. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance toward him, impish confusion clouding the edges of her rounded features.

Even though he had loved her with the passion of a thousand Paris and Helens, he did have the consolation of knowing she had never quite figured him out.

In the end, he would have rather had her though.

Slowly he guided her fingertip as far down to the bottom of his shaft as he could, considering there were two layers of clothing covering him, and then back up, all the while half-listening to the conversation floating around him. He was aware that he, as a topic, was completely ignored, and he rather preferred it that way, if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself.

That, unfortunately, was before he accidentally caught the stare of Remus Lupin.

“So, Percy,” the man said with an uncomfortable shift of his position on the bench. He was wedged between Ginny and Harry which, if Percy was reading the signs correctly, was not a favorable place to be. “How’s Penelope?”

His former Defense Against the Dark Arts prsor sor had obviously gone through the list of acceptable options pertaining to conversation topics, and considering how little the werewolf knew about Percy, it wasn’t at all odd for Remus to have landed on the subject of his seventh-year love life. After all, his job at the Ministry was more or less off-limits if they were to make sure the rest of the table was comfortable, and Remus couldn’t very well ask about how the past year of his life had been.

Although had he asked, Percy knew what his answer would have been: for the past fourteen months, his life had been hell.

At the mention of Penelope’s name, Tonks took control of her movements once again and wrapped her fingers around him, squeezing his hardened flesh in a deliciously rhythmic manner that made the pulsing tightness in his balls amplify tenfold.

“Err, Penelope and I—we—” Damn that woman for doing this to him in front of his family! “We moved in together about—err, about ten—yes, ten months ago, but—err—we—we broke it off in May.”

There. He had said a whole sentence without a single moan of satisfaction. What he really wanted to do at that moment was—

No. He wasn’t going to think it, not with his parents and siblings sitting around them. He was already enjoying her affections far too greatly.

“Right,” Remus said with an embarrassed sort of grimace as he stabbed at a piece of roast with his fork. “Well, are you seeing anyone else at the moment?”

Percy bit his lip as Tonks squeezed once more—although this time a bit harder than he had hoped for.

“Are you bloody kidding me?” one of the twins—Fred, he believed—shot with a jovial chuckle. “Percy couldn’t get a date with anyone else to save his bloody life. Sorry mate, but that’s the way it is,” he added after shooting Percy a quasi-apologetic smile.

“S’all right,” Percy mumbled, looking down into his plate in an action that was meant to mask the fact that his hips had risen involuntarily to meet Tonks’ fluttering touch as she continued to explore him through his robes, tip-to-base. Although, he had to admit, his brother was right.

Well—he pressed his lips together as she slid her hand back down his leg, although not altogether away from his throbbing member—except for Tonks, of course, but aside from glancing under the table, his brother had no way of knowing that.

“Well I think your brother’s adorable.”

Her voice rang through his mind like a cool breeze would a stuffy room, and he noticed he wasn’t the only one who turned toward her with a look of astonishment upon his face. She chose this, of all times, to find the entrance into his robes, and he sucked in a breath as her hand disappeared within the black folds. Her deft fingers found the zipper to his pants and soon she was holding him once more—with nothing in her way.

She shot him a look, complete with a single arched eyebrow that he knew was for the fact he wore nothing underneath his pants. Penelope had liked it that way, and after she had left he hadn’t felt the need to change his habits. Those around them, however, were meant to construe the look as one of friendly flirtation.

In Percy’s book, they were so far from flirtation that he couldn’t even conceive of the meaning of the word whist her hand was subtly doing things to him that hadn’t been done for months.

“Please,” the other twin—George, Percy thought—said with a roll of his eyes and a wide grin to match Fred’s. “You could do so much better than our dear brother—”

“Like us!” Fred interjected. “Double the pleasure, after all.”

A gasp was heard from at least half the table after Fred had made his remark, and Mrs. Weasley’s hand flew to her mouth in shock.

“George Weasley!” she exclaimed. Apparently Percy had been wrong. “Apologize to Tonks at once!”

Her throaty laughter rang throughout the kitchen, her hand still wrapped around his hard flesh as she spoke to his mother. “No, really Molly, it’s perfectly all right.”

When her thumb ran across the tip of his erection, he realized he could no longer do this—not in front of his family. If the two of them didn’t stop, he would cum right into her hand, and he didn’t fancy having sticky robes for the rest of his visit.

While his mother was busy scolding his younger brother, he gently reached over to remove Tonks’ hand from his robe. This time she shot him a look of confusion, but he simply shook his head and adjusted his robes. Before he stood up, he leaned toward her until his lips were barely a hair’s breadth from her ear.

“Where can I…?”

His half-formed question was immediately understood, and a moment later Tonks was standip, np, nearly falling over as she tried to escape her position between Ron and Percy.

“I’m going to show Percy where the toilets are,” she said rather bluntly, much to his embarrassment. His mother took only minimal notice, however, as she nodded and waved the pair of them off while still managing to tell George off. The others didn’t even seem to notice as Percy stood, thanking all the deities he could think of for creating such loose robes. Once he was free of the bench, Tonks began to walk through the cluttered kitchen and exited with Percy only a few steps behind her.

Ron snickered. “Oh, look, Tonks and Percy are going off to have a bit of a shag,” he said mockingly, in a way that made Percy stand up a bit straighter and square his shoulders as he exited the kitchen as a fresh wave of scolding erupted from his mother.