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Neville left Luna twirling dreamily by herself on the dance floor, catching his breath as he made his way back to their table.
Hermione and Ron's wedding had been wonderful, and so far the reception following even better. There were so many guests, Neville had yet to say hello to half the people he recognized. He had no idea how they all fit in the Weasleys' gardens, but no doubt the space was charmed to fit the guests and revelry. The fairy lights twinkling in the trees certainly made the boundaries seem hazy and far away, and the distant rings of outer tables as if they stretched on for acres.
Course after wonderful course of food had followed the official introduction of the bride and groom. As party-goers took to the area marked off for dancing, various young relatives were employed handing out what looked to be a delicious round of afters. There was a beautiful cake with sugared fruit on a platform near the happy couple, but Neville was more interested in the other offerings, especially knowing Molly Weasley's reputation as an excellent cook.
When he re-joined his group Neville gave a nod to Seamus and Dean, who from the looks of their expansive gestures and raised voices had enjoyed a great many Firewhiskeys. As he took his seat, he smiled at a girl who must have been a Weasley cousin carrying about puddings and cakes.
"Sticky Toffee Pudding?" she asked after approaching. "We've custard as well, or if you prefer, there's also--"
"Custard would be lovely, thanks," Neville said quickly, reaching for the portion she handed him.
Others at the table refused, already occupied with other confections, and the girl wandered away to other tables.
"No, I don't care what you say about George Weasley; I've no doubt Harry will be next," Seamus shouted over the noise of the raucous song now playing. "Can't remain single long, can he, what with Ron already throwing his lot in with married folk?"
Dean shrugged awkwardly.
"Are you still speaking about who will be next of your mates to marry?" another guest at the table asked with amusement. From the looks the others seated near her exchanged, some entertained and some slightly weary, Neville guessed this debate had been going on for some time.
"Might as well talk about something else for a time," Dean offered.
"Don't try to get out of it, now," Seamus protested, giving Dean a bit of a shove. "Harry's the one, don't you think Neville?"
"Perhaps you'll be the next, Seamus," Neville interrupted. He didn't much care who tied the knot after Ron, but Dean looked so uncomfortable at talk of Ginny's probable engagement that he felt he had to say something to redirect the conversation.
"Me?" Seamus looked duly horrified. "I've not even got a girlfriend, so I don't see how --"
"I say…Viktor Krum will be the one next married," a young woman at their table declared with a sweeping flick of her wrist. She listed unsteadily toward the man in question, who looked distinctly irritated at being named to the list of prospects.
"Doubtful," Viktor said shortly. His accent had diminished somewhat while he had resided in England the past few years, Neville noticed, though it wasn't terribly easy to tell when he stayed fairly quiet most of the time. In fact, he had been so quiet throughout the speeches and toasts and chatter that Neville had forgotten Viktor was even sitting at his table.
Neville himself had done his duty to be sociable already, asking various school mates to dance and talking to some rather crotchety Weasley aunts, so now that Seamus had been distracted, he felt he could turn away from the conversation. He left them to it, concentrating on scooping up another spoonful of the delicious pudding.
"Oh, come now," the woman protested with a tinkling laugh. She had a slight French accent; could be she was a friend or relation of Fleur Weasley's. Whoever she was, she seemed to have had rather a bit too much to drink, as she slumped closer to Viktor without any embarrassment. "You are several years ahead of this group, are you not? You ought to think soon of taking a wife." She batted her eyelashes at him, and the woman seated next to her giggled.
"How about Neville?" Dean put in suddenly.
Neville looked up, surprised at hearing himself named.
"Yeah!" Seamus chimed in with enthusiasm. "Come on, Nev, we all saw you dancing with Luna. When do you think you two might make things official?"
"Luna and me?" Neville asked in genuine astonishment. "No, no, we're just friends." He cleared his throat, and then started when Viktor suddenly eased away from his pursuer and took the chair next to Neville. He gave Viktor a nervous smile; he wasn't sure the other man even knew who he was, and he wasn't keen on getting in the line of fire, so to speak, with Viktor's admirer.
"You see?" the drunken woman pointed out, evidently in pursuit of her prey as she too slid over an empty chair to try and set herself close to Viktor again. In her haste she sloshed her drink back and onto her friend, who abruptly stopped giggling as she anxiously dabbed the liquid from her silk dress. "S'you, Viktor, and don't try to -- to --" She paused as she thought. "Escape," she slurred finally.
Viktor snorted. "I'll not be marrying any time soon."
"What possible reason could you have?" the woman asked with mounting irritation.
Neville had done his own share of discouraging relatives and friends who asked how long he was going to remain a bachelor. So he glanced up to catch Viktor's reply with some hope of perhaps hearing an effective excuse. Neville certainly wasn't an international Quidditch star, and he didn't have intriguing dark looks like Viktor's, but it was possible he might find some use in the conversation yet.
But as he looked up, the first thing he noticed was Dean's eyes widening comically. He opened his mouth to ask what was so funny or shocking. But then he was unable to take real stock of the situation, because he was too busy exclaiming, "Mmph!" into Viktor's mouth as the other man crushed their lips together.
When Viktor pulled back, everyone at their table had turned to watch them. Dean looked as though he was fighting to hide a grin.
What on earth -- for a moment Neville couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything aside from the drone of insects and the faraway melodies from the band. Viktor Krum had just kissed him. Viktor Krum. Had just kissed. Neville Longbottom.
Neville had no idea what he ought to do. It wasn't just that Neville had not anticipated anything like this happening tonight with anyone, man or woman. No, Neville thought fleetingly, he would have no idea what he ought to do anyway, even if he had seen it coming, and even if he had ever let himself think about the possibility he might one day kiss another man. After all, he'd only been kissed, really kissed, a few times in his life. And, as Neville sat there, astounded and wobbly, he realized this odd and unexpected snog from Viktor counted as Real Kiss Number Four.
Neville glanced around nervously to see if anyone else besides those in their immediate vicinity had witnessed the surprise snog. If he was lucky, no one -- but no, at the table next to theirs, Ernie Macmillan and Anthony Goldstein had stopped their lively conversation to stare openly at Neville and Viktor. Neville felt his cheeks burn, and he turned away quickly. It would seem he hadn't the time to react and think, not when a number of people were watching and drawing their own conclusions.
"Well," Seamus said, clasping his hands together and then rubbing his palms back and forth. "I didn't realize you went for the foreign blokes, Neville. Mind, I didn't realize you went for blokes of any sort." He grinned but then grunted, obviously having been elbowed or kicked by another of their table-mates. "I haven't a problem with it, of course, not a bit! It does put a wrinkle in our order, though, Dean, if Neville is entirely out of the running."
Neville came to the awareness that he was still gripping his spoon, holding it frozen in the air. "I -- erm -- what?"
"You have custard," Viktor said gravely to him. He leaned over to Neville and just as Neville thought for sure their mouths would again meet, flicked out his tongue to lick away the bit of sweet at the edge of Neville's lower lip. Neville's fingertip flew to his mouth, and for lack of maneuvering room, ended up against Viktor's lips rather than his own.
The woman who had flirted so blatantly with Viktor got up in a huff and stormed away. After a moment, her friend reluctantly followed her.
The table fell into a dead silence.
"Excuse me," Neville muttered, getting to his feet and almost jogging away from the table.
He was just at the edges of a row of shrubbery when Viktor caught up with him.
"Neville," Viktor said in a solemn voice. "I must offer my apologies."
Neville took a deep breath, and smoothed down his robes. "It's -- well, it's all right, I suppose. I have no idea what you were thinking, and maybe you're not used to having to ask first, but --"
"She is very insistent," Viktor remarked with a frown. "I do not know what it is about a wedding that makes some women that way."
"Oh, yes. Of course." Somehow in Neville's kiss-addled brain, he had forgotten the context of what had just happened. Viktor was obviously putting on a performance for a woman he had no interest in; how ridiculous, really, would it have been if he had just kissed Neville for the sake of kissing him? To cover his confusion, Neville laughed nervously. "Oh, you know, all those bouquets and rings and solemn vows. Makes people act oddly."
Viktor gave him a searching look before assuming his more typically glum expression. "One must send a strong message sometimes. I thank you for your help." With that, Viktor clasped his shoulder briefly, gave him a small bow, and departed.
"Oh, Neville, what a surprise to find you here," Luna called, coming closer as she lifted her skirts slightly to avoid the dew gathering on the grass. "From the rustling, I thought I might have spotted an Umgubular Slashkilter."
"You don't know how glad I am to see you," Neville told her. Luna, who had still been off dancing, was probably the one person at the table who had missed his embarrassing scene with Viktor. It would be far easier to spend the rest of the evening with her than return to talk to the others, who would no doubt have questions and jokes.
Not that it would be so terrible; he could obviously respond to anyone's amused or surprised reactions with the news that what Viktor had done was just for show. Then again, perhaps they all would have realized that right away, unlike Neville himself.
Luna gave him a vague smile and patted his arm. "That's nice. It's a lovely night, isn't it? The moon is shining brightly, the gnomes are sneaking through the flowers; the Plimpies are splashing in the brook."
Neville nodded and took a deep breath. It really was a lovely night. He likely shouldn't waste time fretting; no doubt everyone who had happened to see Viktor and him would soon forget about the incident.
"Yes, lovely," Luna continued. "I think it a very auspicious evening to announce your new relationship with Viktor Krum. Everyone on the dance floor agreed with me when I asked them."
Neville groaned and buried his face in his hands.
*~*
"I'm just saying, now that Harry's gone and gotten engaged, with the wedding not for another year and a half, and George already lost --" Seamus jerked his head toward the table where the George Weasley sat toasting his bride, Angelina. "If it's not another Weasley first out, then it's got to be Lee Jordan. He's been seeing Padma for a few months now. Lee's the man. And Percy would hardly get married with so little planning, would he? No, he'll be years getting all the details just so before he actually makes it to the altar."
Neville sighed and took a sip of his butterbeer. Not two months after Ron and Hermione's wedding, he was back for another very lively wedding reception at the Weasleys' gardens. As if the fact that his friends had resumed their heated speculation of who might marry next wasn't bad enough, somehow Neville found himself again sharing a table with Viktor Krum.
Viktor had done no more than nod at Neville before staring darkly at his place setting for much of the meal. Neville had blushed furiously anyway, remembering what had happened the last time he saw Viktor, and his own confused mistake that Viktor might actually have meant to kiss him for a genuine reason.
After some tense moments during the hors d'oeuvres when Viktor, who had been seated quite close to him, reached past to snare a mini-quiche, Neville tried to tell himself he was silly to feel embarrassed by some nonsense in the past. It wasn't as though his friends were riling him about the incident -- leastways, they weren't riling him any more. After explaining multiple times what Viktor had been about with his surprise kiss and reminding his friends of the determined young woman Viktor had been attempting to turn away, Dean and Seamus readily agreed it had all been for show.
Of course explaining it a few weeks after the wedding at their regular pub night had required Neville give the story from start to finish for Harry and Ron's benefits (especially after Harry had choked on his bitter when Seamus sang a lewd song about snogging blokes at Neville, and Ron had interrupted the initial explanation to exclaim "Wait, Viktor Krum?" six or seven times).
But now they were all squared away. His friends understood what had happened. And tonight Neville was more likely to have to ask Viktor to pass a bottle of Butterbeer, he told himself, than have to fend off any false ardent attacks.
"As if I was going to argue Percy!" Dean protested, continuing his argument with Seamus. "My galleons are on Ernie. But if you'd like to put your chips on Lee, who hasn't managed to date one girl for more than six months in a row yet, by all means --"
"It's so silly to argue about it," Katie Bell said with a dismissive gesture from where she sat on Neville's other side. "Everyone will go and get engaged or not as it suits them. You just can't predict that sort of thing."
"Besides, is very rude," Viktor interjected.
"Rude!" Seamus gave Dean an offended look, as if to say, Can you believe the gall?
"Viktor's quite right," Luna said in her absent voice as she drew swirls and whorls in the sugar she had spilled on the tablecloth.
"Rude to talk about who might get married?" Seamus exclaimed incredulously.
"What?" An aging woman who had evidently overheard them stopped by their table. "No, no; it's perfectly natural, talk of weddings and engagements at a wedding," she proclaimed. She made tsk-ing noises and pointed at them generally. "All of you are young and eligible, and expected to do your duty. So you better get used to it!"
"How does she know we're all eligible?" Katie said in an affronted tone as the woman bustled off. "And used to what?"
"Well, look where they've seated us," Dean pointed out.
Neville looked around. He hadn't given it much thought, but again, as at Ron and Hermione's reception, all the guests at his table and the ones immediately adjacent were more or less unattached. He had just assumed they had ended up put together due to their similar ages or, for some of them, common experiences at school. But maybe Dean and Seamus were on to something after all. Perhaps there was something behind the groupings other than just acquaintance or convenience.
"Obviously whoever did the seating plans hopes to make a few more matches," a bright-eyed young woman seated near Seamus observed. She smiled gaily at all of them. Neville thought she was called Lucy, or perhaps she was surnamed Pucey. He hadn't been paying much attention when she had introduced herself, as his focus had been on trying not to stare at Viktor.
"Good luck with that," Dean laughed. He nudged Luna, as if expecting her to enjoy the joke.
Luna merely gave a pensive smile and stuck the tip of her sugared index finger in her mouth.
"It is only natural," Lucy/Pucey argued. "All of us at marrying age, not to mention being here and seeing how happy George and Angelina are together…" She sighed and leaned her chin on her elbow in the direction of the married couple but also inclining herself in Viktor's direction. "And some of us already have brilliant careers and have established themselves in the world." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she regarded Viktor. "Once a man has reached that stage of his life, it's simply normal for his thoughts to turn toward marriage."
"I think not," Viktor muttered.
"Take you, for example," the woman began, turning to Viktor more blatantly.
Viktor grimaced.
Neville felt a flash of sympathy for Viktor. The other man really did have more trouble with this subject than others Neville knew, what with all of these determined admirers Neville had seen. And of course Neville knew from the close of their last conversation how much Viktor seemed to dislike people approaching him at these sorts of events.
So by way of interruption, Neville plunged into the conversation, blurting out, "I suppose any of us, really --"
Then he nearly tumbled out of his chair as he saw Viktor's large curved nose and thick black brows coming ever closer to him.
"This is really getting to be a habit with you two," Seamus noted some moments later as Viktor pulled away from another unexpected kiss and Neville gasped for breath.
As this kiss had involved rather more tongue than Neville would have recommended in a snog merely for show, he felt a bit dizzy. He reached up, awkwardly, finding his hair had gotten rumpled, what with Viktor having slipped his fingers into it as part of the performance. The kiss had lasted longer this time, too, and Neville reddened as he wondered whether his lips were actually swollen.
If he had kissed back in the slightest, he told himself with a kind of panic building in his brain, it had only been because he had been feeling sympathetic to Viktor just moments before. It was not because he actually went for foreign blokes, and it was not because he truly hoped for the merest of seconds that Viktor might actually want to kiss him.
"So you see, we are not all available at this table, brilliant career or no," Viktor observed. He deliberately lifted his arm and laid it across the back of Neville's chair.
Luna raised her eyebrows ever so slightly while Katie had a coughing fit.
"Well, they should have seated you elsewhere, then," Lucy/Pucey shot back with a sulky expression. "And talk about rude, I think it's quite rude for you to display yourself that way in front of everyone."
"You seem unpleasant," Luna observed in a contemplative tone.
Seamus snickered. "Aye, you're wasting your time on either of those two," he said merrily. "I think they've been together -- what has it been, Nev, two months now?"
Neville's jaw dropped. Was he actually going to have to explain to his friends once again that what Viktor had just done meant nothing? And really, would he have to encounter this sort of expectation that he act the part of Viktor's…boyfriend, or something…at every event this spring and summer, just so that Viktor could attend weddings undisturbed?
"Look, could I have a word? Privately?" Neville asked Viktor in an undertone. He ignored the wolf-whistles Seamus made and stalked away from the table, trusting Viktor to follow.
For lack of a better place, he headed toward the same row of shrubbery they had approached last time.
"Once again, I must apologize," Viktor said once he had caught up. His lips were set in a grim line.
"Just, can't you come up with some other way to fend off women?" Neville asked. "Honestly, I remember scads of girls after you when you were at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament."
"You do?" Viktor asked.
"That's not the point! Surely you didn't just keep grabbing random people and snogging them to keep your fans from accosting you then! And you would think if that was really your only method of evasion, you would just pretend, not kiss someone like…like that!"
"Is different now," Viktor said in a gloomy voice. "Girls get crushes, true, but women I meet are all the time thinking of marriage. Is important to stop their mistake with me. And then, forgive me, but I thought you --"
Neville threw his hands up into the air. "I don't care what you thought! It's hardly my problem, now, is it? Why do you reckon I'm the man to kiss to make people leave you alone?"
Viktor stiffened. "You are not with the Luna, you said, and you are at the table of the single people, after all. I did not think you would mind."
"Mind!" Neville shouted. "You haven't given me a chance to mind it or like it or --"
"Like it?" Viktor inquired. His expression seemed foreboding still, but his lips quirked ever so slightly.
"Just -- stop." Neville wagged a finger at Viktor. "I'm not some sort of go-to person you can leap upon whenever you're trying to make some simpering girl leave you be."
Viktor gave him a short bow. "I understand. You must give me pardon."
Neville was left staring as Viktor walked stiffly for a few paces and then Apparated away on the spot.
"Lovers' tiff?" Luna murmured sympathetically when Neville returned to the table.
"No," he retorted.
"Viktor coming back soon?" Dean inquired with a grin.
"No!" Neville snapped.
"Couples can get so cross with everyone else when they've been fighting," Seamus confided in a loud whisper.
Neville let his head fall to the table as everyone else nodded their agreement.
*~*
"No. No, I can't sit there," Neville whispered pleadingly.
"But we've our cards saying this is where we are to sit," Luna said in a placid voice. She made her way to their designated table, which already hosted their usual array of wedding-reception companions around it, including one Viktor Krum.
Neville sighed, but really he had no choice but to follow. Of all the times for Luna to develop a sense of propriety, it would have to be when it put him into proximity with Viktor.
He really hadn't anticipated having to see Viktor any time soon, but with yet another wedding to attend, he supposed he should have expected the by-now inevitable encounter. Lee and Padma had gone ahead and gotten engaged after all; Neville happened to know that Dean had paid Seamus a tidy sum as penalty for losing their bet. And really, Neville's dress robes were getting quite the going over as a result of this rash of spring (and now summer) weddings. If anyone else sent him an owl about an upcoming ceremony, he would probably have to invest in new ones.
For now, though, his present dress robes would have to do, especially as Lee sent word around about his wedding with such short notice. As everything was obviously rather rushed, Neville had heard some rumors that Padma was expecting. At the pub a week before, though, Dean maintained Lee must have pushed for the hasty plans because he obviously feared his bride-to-be would end their relationship before they reached their six-month mark.
At least this wedding wasn't at the Weasleys' home, Neville reflected. Lee's uncle owned some kind of reception hall, and had offered a lavishly decorated space to the couple. Neville imagined it must be a relief for Mrs. Weasley, much as Ron assured him that she loved being in the middle of all the weddings, to have to host yet another large fete.
For Neville's part, he didn't mind at all not returning to the Weasleys' gardens so soon. He kept experiencing the oddest dizzy feelings whenever he pictured those hazy fairy lights and the shrubbery where he and Viktor had twice talked. No doubt it was the warm air in the evenings causing his strange reactions.
As luck would have it, after Luna perched herself on the chair next to Dean, the only seat available was the one beside Viktor.
" 'Lo," Neville mumbled as he joined him.
Viktor jerked his head at him in greeting. "Neville," he pronounced carefully.
Neither exchanged another word until halfway through the meal, when Viktor leaned over slightly and murmured, "You are angry with me yet, I think."
"Oh, no. No. Don't be ridiculous," Neville replied. "After all, it's been an entire month." He returned with determination to his meal, but he could feel Viktor's stare on him, and somehow he couldn't manage to eat any more.
"You seem unhappy I am here," Viktor added after a moment.
"Not at all." Neville looked up, desperately trying to signal for someone, anyone, to join in the conversation so he could divert Viktor from talking about what had happened at the last two weddings. But Dean and Luna were chatting away like old friends, Seamus entertaining two young women Neville had yet to meet, and his other acquaintances were similarly involved in their own encounters.
"So you are not unhappy I am here?" Viktor asked. He watched Neville intently, awaiting an answer.
One of the women listening to Seamus glanced their way, seeming distracted by Neville and Viktor's quiet conversation. Neville cleared his throat and tried to convey the idea they were discussing something of no importance even as he kept his voice low.
"Look," he whispered. "You had some idea kissing me would prevent women from insisting you should get married. I think we cleared up that I am not the one to help you with that predicament. I don't think we'll have any more problems, then, do you?"
Viktor shook his head, seeming even more uncomfortable than before.
Neville deliberately ignored him after that, going out to the floor when the band played, dancing with some of Lee's young cousins while their mothers beamed at him. Then he avoided all his table-mates some more by taking his time to congratulate the newly wedded couple and their families.
"I do hope you're having a good time, Neville," Padma told him, clasping his hand between both of hers.
"Oh, I'm having a wonderful time." He nodded in what he hoped was a convincing fashion.
"Lee and I are so happy you could join us." She glanced over his shoulder. "And I'm happy you're sitting next to Viktor Krum so he has someone to chat with. Lee was thrilled when Viktor asked if he could come to our wedding. You know how Lee adores Quidditch, and having a star like Viktor Krum actually request to come to our wedding, well. It was a real thrill for him. But Viktor doesn't seem much for mingling or meeting new people, so it's a real help someone like you can spare some time for him."
"That's…nice," Neville said distantly.
Then Padma was exclaiming over another school mate who was ready to offer best wishes, and Neville moved away from the wedding party.
Neville wound his way around the tables and party-goers, bumping into two or three people in the process. He didn't really have anywhere to go but back to his table, yet something about the idea of Viktor asking Padma and Lee if he could come to their wedding flummoxed him.
He thought a little more and wandered a little more, managing to walk straight into the gift table before he knew it, and clumsily overturning a package. He gulped and tried to reach for it before it fell to the floor, but someone else was quicker -- Harry had darted over and grabbed the no doubt fragile present just in time.
"All right, Neville?" Harry asked with a grin. Behind him, Neville could see Ginny Weasley laughing and talking to another young woman.
"Yes. I mean, I think so. I mean -- how well do either George or Angelina know Viktor Krum?"
Harry clutched at the present, confusion clear on his face. "What?"
"I mean, I was just surprised to see him at their reception" -- though Neville hadn't been surprised at all, had he, at the time -- "and then I realized he must know one of them well. So thought you might know, having a family connection, which of them it was Viktor knows."
Harry gave the gift a considering squeeze as he thought. "Neither, actually," he answered at last. "I mean, I believe Fred and George met Viktor during that year of the Triwizard Tournament. I would suppose Angelina met him then as well, being keen on Quidditch, of course, and pretty sociable besides. But I don't think either George or Angelina really knows him."
"So they invited him because…"
"Dunno -- oh, wait, no, I do remember something about it, now that you mention it. At the last minute there was lots of shifting around on the guest lists, some people owling to cancel, others asking if they could bring dates. I remember Ginny was ready to tear the lists in two, because she was the one having to keep track of everyone. Then Mrs. Weasley came back from Diagon Alley one afternoon declaring Ginny had to put Viktor on the 'attending' list."
"Why would she do that?" Neville asked bluntly.
"Why? Oh, Mrs. Weasley said they spoke that day, and he brought up the wedding. When she told him there would be nice single girls at the wedding, as well as people he'd known from Hogwarts, like Fleur and me and Ron and you --"
"Thanks, Harry," Neville said, fumbling around to turn and rush off.
"Wait," he heard Harry calling, but Neville was already halfway to his table.
Except when he arrived there, Viktor was no longer seated with the others.
"Where's Viktor?" he asked Seamus, who seemed to be the only one not engrossed in conversation. Dean and Luna were sitting even closer together than they had been earlier (and that, Neville realized as Luna smiled at Dean, was more than likely the reason Luna was perfectly happy to sit at their assigned places), and Katie was laughing at something one of the Weasley male cousins who had joined their table was telling her.
"Stalked off that way," Seamus said, pointing. "Said he wanted to get some air, or maybe just get out. Tried to talk to him, you know, hear what he thought about the Wasps' chances this year, but he seemed too glum to talk, just staring over at the dance floor, then staring at the reception line for ages. He's not a very talkative bloke, mind you --"
"Thanks," Neville called over his shoulder as he made for the exit.
He almost got lost in the maze of narrow corridors at the back of the building, but finally he located a door leading to a dingy alleyway outside.
And there, scowling at the ground and looking as though he were readying himself to Apparate away, was Viktor Krum.
"Viktor," Neville exclaimed, all out of breath from rushing.
"Neville," Viktor returned with care. It occurred to Neville that Viktor said his name with such mindfulness that he could well have asked someone how best to pronounce it.
"I was just about to depart," Viktor continued. He gave Neville a dour look, as though they had left behind a maudlin occasion instead of a lively wedding reception.
"No, not yet. Kiss me first," Neville blurted out.
Viktor's dark brows shot up. "What?"
"Kiss me," Neville insisted. His heart was in his throat, but he pressed on. "You've done it twice now, and I think if you'd had a chance this evening you would have done it again."
Viktor's expression became stern. "Do you?"
"Yes," Neville said stoutly despite the fact that his pulse was racing. "Because really, who tries to turn down women flirting with them by all of a sudden snogging another man? The same man -- twice! No, I think you kissed me because you wanted to do it, and for some reason you used those odd moments as a chance to do it and not have to explain yourself."
Viktor stood very still.
Just when Neville thought for certain he was going to spontaneously combust from the blood he felt rushing to his face, Viktor's mouth twisted into a smile.
It was a very nice smile, actually, especially for a man that spent most of his time frowning and looking sullen.
"I felt quite discouraged this evening. I did not think I would be so lucky this time as to have another woman embarrassing herself over me," Viktor confessed as he stepped closer. "And you seemed so angry last time --"
Neville bit his lip and hoped the way his hands were trembling wasn't terribly obvious. "If that's how you go about trying to find opportunities to kiss someone, I can't help but think the odds are not always going to be in your favor. Besides, it's not terribly flattering to a man to think he's being kissed merely to put someone else off."
"Is not why," Viktor clarified gravely. "And not just kiss someone." He lifted his hand and cupped Neville's jaw, brushing his thumb against Neville's cheekbone. "Kiss you," he said in a low voice before leaning forward to do just that.
Though Neville hadn't been kissed very many times in his life, he felt quite sure that this third kiss with Viktor was the best of the lot. Viktor kept his palm under Neville's chin, turning his face up so their lips met easily. As he threaded the fingers of his other hand through Neville's hair, he murmured into the kiss, as though this was what he had been after all along.
They moved apart only slightly, panting.
"I perhaps did not go about this all the right way. You see, I am not very good at this sort of thing," Viktor confessed.
"You don't say," replied Neville after a beat.
"I see you make joke," Viktor commented, raising his brows. "Very funny."
"Oh, well. If you're not good at this -- neither am I, actually," Neville confided.
"So we are perhaps well matched, then," Viktor said with some satisfaction.
"Perhaps we are," Neville answered softly. He could hear the muffled sounds of the band inside, playing a rousing tune meant to draw all of the couples -- and would-be couples -- out onto the floor. He swayed a little where he stood, and Viktor smiled again as he shifted even closer.
It was no garden with fairy lights or fancy reception hall with parquet floor, but Neville felt perfectly content there in the dingy alley all the same as he pulled Viktor close by his lapels to kiss him once more.