Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood, years after Hogwarts. The rivalry is gone, something greater remains. No robes, no wands—just two men and the reflections of light on the water.

Daphne lay on her back, her chestnut hair splayed across the pillow, her dark brown eyes glinting with arousal. She arched her hips slightly, baring herself, her fingers gently gripping Theos's cock, guiding it toward her.

"Don't rush," she whispered, feeling him twitch in her hand.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, casting shadows along the walls. The air was thick with quiet moans and ragged breaths.
Pansy lay on her back, her pale hair splayed across the pillow, her lips wrapped around Theo's hard cock.