Harry potter and the descent into darkness

Chapter 24

WARNING: This chapter contains a slashy lemon. That means a male x male sexual encounter. If you don't like that sort of thing... why are you reading this story again? Well, you can skim past that part when you reach it.

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They were called 'katas', Harry had learned, but it looked like some sort of elaborate choreographed dance. He supposed it was. It was a muggle martial arts thing, or so he had been told. A repetitive set of motions that one practiced over and over again to work out the kinks in their technique. Harry had been stunned to learn that Voldemort had studied under a muggle martial arts master for about a year when he was in his mid twenties.

Apparently the then-future-Dark Lord, had been traveling to the far east in search of a specific magical artifact and had witnessed some martial artists during his search. He had been impressed enough to extend his stay in Japan even when he had determined that the artifact in question wasn't there, and the country was still in a rather pitiful condition because of the war that had only ended four years prior.

Voldemort was, by no means, a master of martial arts, however he prided the skill as it improved his reflexes, balance, and footwork. But hand-to-hand combat was an absolute last resort, and one he highly doubted he would ever have to resort to. Even in the unlikely scenario of being separated from his wand, he was capable of enough wandless magic, as well as his incredible repertoire of parselmagic that also required no wand, that he would likely never be in a situation where he could not fall back on some sort of magical technique.

Still, Harry could tell that the little bit of muggle martial arts that the Dark Lord had learned, was impressive. His movements were mesmerizing. The fact that he was barefoot and in a pair of loose pants, tied at the ankles, and no shirt, wasn't exactly helping matters. Harry couldn't fathom why the hell seeing the other man's bare feet was so mesmerizing, but for some reason it was. Can a person have handsome feet? Harry had never given it any thought before, but he decided that if anyone did, Voldemort did. His eyes weren't stuck on the feet for long though. The man's chest was far more mesmerizing. Harry was so utterly distracted by the scene he was witnessing, that he had utterly abandoned his own exercises that morning.

"Gods, you're beautiful..." The words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he even realized his mouth was open. He'd thought them so many times during the last two weeks; why his brain decided to misfire and speak the words aloud this time, he had no idea, but now that they were out, he couldn't take them back.

He felt his face and the back of his neck instantly grow hot with embarrassment, while the bottom of his stomach dropped out in horror as he feared how his words might get taken.

Voldemort stopped in his choreographed movements, turned, and quirked an amused eyebrow back at the younger wizard.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, ducking his head.

Voldemort chuckled. "You compliment me and then apologize? Harry, don't be ridiculous."

"I just... I mean... I'm sorry if it... weirds you out or something."

"What on earth are you going on about, Harry? Why in Merlin's name would it 'weird me out' to receive a compliment from you?"

"Er, I mean, with me being bent and all," Harry mumbled, looking down and fiddling with the drawstring of his jogging pants.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and looked at Harry for a moment before speaking. "Bent... that's a euphemism they're using these days for being gay, correct?"

Harry blinked. He forgot sometimes that it had been more than a decade since Voldemort had been able to be around other humans, and who knew how distanced he was from that sort of 'slang' even before his first body was destroyed. Still, was 'bent' a recent slang term? Or maybe it just wasn't used much by wizards? He really didn't know.