Harry watched Johnny Weir's eyes go blank. He hated it, because those eyes were usually so alive. He wasn't a figure skating follower, but he had noticed Johnny the moment the man had asked him a question in the event briefing. If he hadn't been so busy trying to keep idiot wizards and witches from giving away just how little they knew about the Muggle world, he might have been very interested.

When he had been sent to the US and then put in the middle of a Muggle sporting event he had almost quit on the spot, but Parkinson was a very dangerous man. At least Harry had half a clue how the Muggle world actually worked, unlike a good percentage of the men and women who were supposed to be backing him up. The whole situation was a magical nightmare waiting to happen.

"You saw a man carrying Adam Rippon out of the men's changing rooms. You defended yourself and Adam and the assailant ran off," he said with his wand still trained on the skater.

Johnny nodded and Harry ended the spell, slipping his wand back into his sleeve.

"Completely gone?" Johnny asked as if they were just continuing the conversation.

"Completely."

Harry was pretty sure Parkinson had run outside the anti-Apparition wards and then fled to wherever he was holed up in the area.

"I have men searching now," Harry said in his best professional manner, "but I think, more importantly, we need to get Mr Rippon some help."

The way Johnny just went along with him was a common effect of shock, but Harry had the feeling that it would not stay that way for long. Throwing a skate at Parkinson had taken real guts. He had Johnny make a statement as Adam Rippon was carted off to the hospital, after which came the joy of dealing with the press. Parkinson was proving to be even more slippery than Harry had imagined and there was absolutely no sign of the Death Eater anywhere.

It took three hours to get everything sorted out, by which time Harry was getting to know Johnny quite well. The man who was currently second in the men's competition, as far as Harry could gather, was beginning to come back to his normal temperament by the time they were finished. Johnny was nothing if not helpful, but Harry could tell there was annoyance bubbling under the surface.

Harry had been chasing Parkinson for three months now, ever since the man's crimes had come to light back at home. When other Death Eaters had given up or just disappeared, it seemed Parkinson had had other ideas. The man had been prosecuted after the war and done a short spell in Azkaban, but he had appeared to be small fry. As they had found out, however, the man had just gone underground with his crimes. Parkinson was a serial rapist and murderer, the like of which Harry had never personally dealt with before, and the man targeted Muggles.

That was why, when Johnny started making noises about returning to his hotel, Harry made a quick decision. Leaving Bachelor, his second in command, in control of the hunt for Parkinson, Harry decided to handle Johnny's situation personally and make sure there were no repercussions.

"Johnny," he said, Johnny had insisted on first names almost straight away, "I can take you back to your hotel now if you would like."

Johnny looked kind of surprised.

"I can just get a taxi," the skater said and looked around at the organised chaos of the incident room.

"I'm afraid you're stuck with me," Harry replied with a smile, "from now until we catch Parkinson consider me your bodyguard."

He had hoped to gloss over that for a while, but it was not to be. Johnny appeared shocked.

"Bodyguard?"

"Parkinson is a class one psychopath," Harry replied with a nod, "and you upset his plans. He has a penchant for revenge, so I will be making sure he doesn't get the chance."

Johnny paled a little at that, but the spirit Harry knew was under the surface was clear in the skater's eyes.

"And I thought my quad was the worst thing I had to worry about," was Johnny's dry comment on the matter.

Harry smiled again; he knew all about being a target and he was thoroughly impressed with Johnny.

"I'll worry about Parkinson, you just worry about the skating," he replied and indicated the way out.

It took ten minutes to get through the reporters who all wanted Johnny's version of events, but they did eventually end up in the car Harry had requisitioned. It took another twenty minutes to make it through traffic to Johnny's hotel, but it all went without incident, which Harry counted as a plus.

The gaggle of girls who pounced on Johnny as soon as Harry and Johnny stepped into the lobby delayed them for another ten minutes, but Harry learnt even more about his companion in the short time. Harry had never been very good with dealing with the general public as a celebrity; he had always been embarrassed and shied away, but Johnny seemed to have it down to an art form. By the time they made it up Johnny's room, Harry had to admit he was a bit of a fan himself.

Of course, that didn't change the fact that Johnny was just about vibrating with tension, Harry could see it. He wasn't exactly sure how he could help. Well, technically he could think of several ways, but seducing victims of a crime was frowned upon. Johnny had put on a good front for his angels, but it was beginning to crack in private.

"Do you fancy some dinner?" Harry asked, since it was about the only innocent thing he could think of to suggest. "I can ring down and have one of my guys bring us something up."

Dropping his bag on the bed, Johnny finally turned and looked at him. There was something raw in the figure skater's eyes and Harry felt as if he'd been snared.

"I'm not hungry," Johnny said and stepped towards him.

When Johnny grabbed him by the tie and pulled him in for a kiss, Harry didn't exactly object. The back of his mind that sounded far too much like Hermione most of the time was yelling 'unprofessional' at him, but the rest pretty much went with the flow and kissed back. He even let Johnny back him up into the nearest wall, where they did their very best to devour each other.

He was more than a little surprised and disappointed when Johnny growled and pushed away from him.

"Sorry," Johnny apologised, not looking at him, "it's the shock ... it ... you've been eyeing up my ass for the last hour and ... I ... I can't do this."

"Johnny," Harry said gently and caught the other man's arm, "just breathe, it's okay."

His body was throbbing with need, but he had better self-control than that, so he took a deep breath. Johnny did look up at him then and he could still see the longing there, but Johnny seemed to have himself firmly under orders.

"Why don't you explain why you think we can't do this?" Harry suggested.

He was nothing if not willing to take risks.

"Competition," Johnny said, reluctantly pulling his arm away; "my coach has rules and would kill me. My coach is a scary, scary woman and more frightening than you."

That made Harry smile, at least it wasn't something he had done.

"I better go and have a shower or something," Johnny decided after a moment, "try and relax."

Harry was pretty sure figure skaters with shoulders that were as stiff as a board wouldn't do too well in competition anyway, so he had an idea.

"Look," he said, before Johnny could wander away, "how about a massage."

That earned him a very pointed look.

"You are aware that is the oldest trick in the book," Johnny sounded unimpressed and Harry laughed.

"Honestly, I swear," he replied, "your virtue is safe. I actually had lessons a few years ago and I've been told I have magic hands."

He wiggled his fingers in an encouraging gesture.

"Your back's ramrod straight," he added in a cajoling tone, "you need to loosen up for tomorrow."

"Next you'll be telling me sex is good for relaxation," Johnny said and raised an eyebrow.

"It is," Harry replied with a grin, "but you have my word of honour as an employee of Her Majesty's government that I will not make any inappropriate attempts on your person."

That actually made Johnny smile for the first time. Harry liked that smile.

"But what do you get out of it?" Johnny asked and put his hands on his hips.

"Well I get to see you semi-naked," Harry replied, perfectly happy to flirt outrageously, "and I'm sure we can come up with something for after competition."

That drew a rather thoughtful expression from Johnny and Harry felt himself being scrutinised carefully.

"I don't like being in debt," Johnny finally said and Harry tried to not be too disappointed, "so I have a better idea."

Harry was somewhat shocked when Johnny pushed him against the wall and then knelt down.

"What?" he asked as Johnny reached for his belt buckle.

Johnny gave him a very mischievous grin and Harry could see the tension already beginning to leave the younger man.

"I'm not allowed to have sex," Johnny said, clearly pleased with himself, "but that doesn't mean I can't help you along. If your hands are as good as you say, it should be a good trade."

It appeared Johnny was very direct when he wanted to be, because before Harry could so much as comment on that plan, Johnny had him out of his underwear and in hand.

"Oh Merlin," he groaned out as he discovered that Johnny mouth was clever at more than just talking.

"Never been called that before," Johnny commented as he pulled off and then grinned mischievously and dived back in.

Harry could have been forgiven for forgetting his own name for a while under the onslaught. Johnny showed him that that innocent face hid a whole expanse of skill as he was basically driven completely to distraction. Several times he wished he had been lying down, because his legs were shaking very dangerously. His reactions would have been embarrassing if Johnny hadn't been simply that good.

He finally had to do something, so laced his fingers in Johnny's black hair, Johnny hummed cheerfully. Harry almost lost it on the spot. If they gave out gold medals for blow jobs, Harry was pretty sure Johnny should be on top of the podium. It was so intense that his orgasm took him by surprise, and that hadn't happened since he was a teenager. He literally saw stars.

Every nerve in his body was jangling and he could barely catch his breath.

"Stop," he begged as Johnny enticed aftershock followed by aftershock out of him, "please stop."

When Johnny finally did stop, he had a very smug expression on his face.

"You, Mr Weir, are evil," Harry said as his nose even tingled.

"All figure skaters are overachieving perfectionists," Johnny told him with a wicked smile; "we take everything very seriously."

Harry had the sudden vision of a whole army of figure skaters all on their knees competing to give the best blow job known to man; it didn't help his equilibrium at all.

"Evil, totally evil," he said and slid down the wall.

Johnny laughed and sat down next to him. If nothing else, the younger man did look more relaxed than he had done.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll make good on my promise," Harry said and wondered if he had the motor control to tidy himself up yet.

"I'll give you as long as it takes me to freshen up," Johnny said with a smile and then bounced up and towards the bathroom.

A bonus was it seemed to have taken Johnny's mind off the whole Parkinson situation, so Harry counted it as a win/win.