FIC: Dragon Rider [PG-13]
Jun. 16th, 2015 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hpraremod posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hp_rarefestTitle: Dragon Rider
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leontinabowie
Prompt: Number 94 bydrarryxlover
Pairing: Harry/Charlie
Word Count: 3900
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Sex references
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to the mods for their patience. This is possibly the cheesiest title I have ever given a story, and I apologise for that.
Summary: Harry and Charlie had a casual thing, but Charlie returned to Romania before Harry could admit to his true feelings. Two years later Charlie returns, forcing Harry to confront those feelings once again.
***
Ginny had been very excited to set Harry up with Spencer Morgan, the brother of one of the other chasers on the Holyhead Harpies.
Harry could see why Ginny had been excited. Spencer was incredibly handsome; tall and slender, with soft brown hair that bounced whenever he moved his head, hazel eyes that glinted brown or green depending on how the light hit them, and with full red lips. Spencer worked for a private and very successful solicitor’s firm, apprenticing under the owner herself.
Spencer had all that going for him, but Harry knew that it would never work because Spencer was no Charlie Weasley.
It was wrong of Harry to compare all his dates to Charlie - especially because they could never compare - but even after two years Harry still hadn’t been able to get over his ex.
After the war had ended, and following the death of Fred, Charlie came home from Romania to spend time with his family.
Harry had been staying at the Burrow, but had felt like an outsider due to not being an actual Weasley. After a drunken chat one night, Charlie revealed that he felt the same way; he had been in Romania for so long that he’d missed years of Weasley life, and didn’t fit in anymore.
With the help of more alcohol, Harry and Charlie’s nightly chats soon turned into more, and a causal relationship formed between them. It was just sex, they said, and having someone to spend the night with and feel close to was a great comfort.
Harry, however, could never make anything simple, and ended up developing feelings for Charlie. He hadn’t told Charlie, fearing rejection, but Charlie ended up rejecting him anyway.
Charlie had gone back to Romania on a day’s notice, fleeing like something had terrified him. Harry had pondered for weeks over it - if it had been him that had driven Charlie away - but he never figured it out.
Charlie was still on Harry’s mind, though, and had fucked up every potential relationship since.
Spencer cleared his throat and wrapped long, elegant fingers around his glass of water as he picked it up. Charlie’s thick, calloused fingers were better.
In fact, everything about Charlie was better. Charlie was a proper manly man; he was short, a couple of inches shorter than Harry, but he had broad shoulders and a full chest which was dusted with red hair. And much to Harry’s pleasure, Charlie had a cock to match his build; just under average in length, but deliciously thick - it more than made up for length in girth. Charlie’s back was covered in an Antipodean Opaleye dragon tattoo, and last time Harry had seen him he had a Romanian Longhorn on one arm, and was planning on getting a Hebridean Black on the other.
Harry’s date with Spencer finished as soon as they finished their meal, and though they exchanged the polite, “I had a lovely time,” comments, neither of them made a request for a second date, or promised to be in touch. Harry supposed he could have been a bit less mopey, but Charlie had made him bitter.
Harry decided to head to the Burrow so he could slag Spencer off to Ginny before Spencer slagged Harry off to his sister; at least that way when the two women got together Ginny would be on Harry’s side.
Harry was so used to the Burrow by now that he didn’t spare it a second thought as he walked through the front door after Apparating. It was just as crooked and cluttered as always, with knitting projects hovering in the air and Muggle trinkets charmed by Mr Weasley jumping along the surfaces.
So, naturally, Harry didn’t consider the possibility that anything else could be different. He expected to find Mrs and Mr Weasley in the kitchen with a cup of tea, or Ginny making herself one of those odd kale smoothies that she was so fond of.
He had been half-right. Mr and Mrs Weasley were in the kitchen, as was Ginny. Ron was in there, too, along with Hermione and George; Harry didn’t have eyes for any of them.
Because there in the middle of the kitchen for the first time in two years was Charlie Weasley.
***
Harry didn’t get chance to talk to Charlie alone that night.
A very tearful and excited Mrs Weasley had told Harry that Charlie was back in England for good, having taken a job in a new dragon sanctuary that was being opened in a remote location in the Cairngorms mountain range.
Mrs Weasley had then proceeded to hug Charlie, much to Charlie’s displeasure if his grimace was anything to go by, and then Ginny dragged Harry away to ask how his date had gone.
Harry had been pleased to find out that Charlie hadn’t told any of his family that he was coming home - at least it hadn’t been personal against Harry - but he was still annoyed that Charlie had done so.
Disappearing with hardly any notice, and then returning without a word, like he didn’t care about the damage he’d done by leaving so unexpectedly, just wasn’t on.
It seemed that Harry was alone in his thoughts, however, because the Weasleys had decided to throw a welcome home party for Charlie. Harry was invited, and all he’d been able to think about was wondering how he’d be able to face Charlie at the party.
When he arrived at the Burrow and saw a very sly looking George standing by the punch bowl, Harry knew that he’d found his answer.
“How much did you spike this?” Harry said to George as way of greeting, jerking his head towards the punch bowl.
George clapped a hand to his chest dramatically. “Harry Potter! Are you insinuating I would spike my own mother’s punch?” George grabbed the ladle and filled a cup before handing it to Harry, and pulled a metal flask out from under his jacket. “I’ll personally spike yours now if you want?”
Harry caught sight of Charlie, standing beneath a bright orange banner which read ‘WELCOME HOME, CHARLIE’. Charlie was laughing with Bill, and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Fill me up, George,” Harry said, holding out his cup.
He downed the drink gratefully, and when he emerged from behind his cup the world seemed slightly brighter. George held the flask out to Harry.
“You look like you could do with this,” George said sympathetically, patting Harry on the shoulder.
And so Harry had his solution; every time he saw Charlie, or caught sight of Charlie coming towards him, Harry would run away and take a drink from the flask.
The plan worked well, and even when the world stopped becoming brighter and started to become fuzzy, it was still preferential to seeing Charlie. Seeing Charlie would bring up lots of feelings which Harry didn’t quite want to confront yet.
“I don’t see why Charlie even deserves a party,” Harry whined, folding his arms across his chest and spilling some of his drink in the process. “Just because he comes home from Romania. Big deal. It’s not party worthy, is it? And why couldn’t he tell me he was coming home? Why does he think it’s fine to drop in and out of my life when it suits him?”
Harry’s companion remained silent. He was an odd bloke, tall and very skinny, and he wore two hats on his head.
“You’re a great listener,” Harry murmured seriously, swinging his hand to pat the man’s shoulder. He missed and stumbled forwards, stopped only from falling by a soft pair of hands grabbing his shoulders.
“Ginny!” Harry exclaimed when he caught sight of long red hair. “Have you met my friend?”
“Merlin, Harry, how much have you drank?” Ginny grimaced, looking him up and down in concern.
“I’ve hardly had anything!” Harry retorted defensively, tipping his flask upside down to prove a point. A single drop fell from it, and Harry watched it splash as it hit the brown carpeted floor.
“So you make a habit of talking to hat stands?” Ginny queried, taking the hats off Harry’s companion and revealing several prongs that Harry hadn’t seen before.
“Oh,” he mumbled, hanging his head.
Glancing back up, he reached for the suede hat that Ginny was holding and propped it on his head.
“Come on, Harry; let’s go to bed,” Ginny said gently, linking her arm with his and guiding him towards the stairs.
“I don’t think Dean will like that very much,” Harry pointed out, waving his arm to try and catch Dean’s attention.
“Stop that!” Ginny hissed, blocking his arm with her own. “We’re not going to bed together. You’re going to Ron’s room.”
Ron’s room was just as orange as it had always been, and Harry brought his arm up to his face to shield his eyes. He swayed slightly as he stumbled towards the bed, and fell easily onto it when Ginny gave him a slight shove.
The hat fell from his head in the process, and he clutched it tightly to him. It smelt of salt and firewood, and he breathed the familiar scent in deeply.
He was asleep in seconds.
***
Harry groaned when bright sunlight filtered through the window and stung his eyes. He pulled the bed covers up over his head, trying to ignore the way his head was pounding, like his skull was grinding against his skin.
The smell of breakfast managed to reach him through his linen defences, and it was only that which gave Harry the motivation to stumble out of bed and raid Ron’s very basic potion supply. Ron could always be trusted to have a Hangover Relief potion, however, and Harry gratefully downed it.
Even as the headache faded away, Harry still couldn’t quite come to grips with what had happened the night before; it was all a blur. He vaguely remembered talking to a tall and silent stranger, and avoiding Charlie, but that was about it.
A knock sounded at the door, and - assuming it was Ron coming back to his room - Harry shouted for him to come in while he sat on the bed and tugged yesterday’s crumpled shirt over his head.
The silence that followed was uncharacteristic for Ron, and Harry felt a feeling of unease as he finally freed himself of his shirt.
Charlie rather than Ron stood in front of Harry, and Charlie smiled awkwardly as the door shut behind him.
Damn it, Charlie still looked good. With his customary ginger stubble on his chin - which had always felt fantastic rubbing against Harry’s thighs - and his defined muscles which bulged underneath his black shirt, Harry knew he was still hopelessly in love with Charlie.
He was mad at Charlie for his bad communication, yes, but it would be very easy for Harry to forgive Charlie.
“I didn’t get chance to speak to you at the party,” Charlie said as way of greeting, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.
“I was lost in the crowd, I imagine,” Harry shrugged. “It’s nice to see you home, Charlie,” he added, because it was nice to see Charlie home, even his appearance was causing Harry emotional turmoil.
“I’m sorry for not telling you I was coming. Mum wasn’t very happy that I dropped in without warning,” Charlie mumbled, never having been good at apologising. He wasn’t much of a talker - he was more physical.
Harry, however, could be pretty good at talking on occasion.
“Yeah, but after you left the country without warning, it’s to be expected that you’d come back without a word,” he retorted, raising a brow at Charlie.
Charlie pursed his lips, and Harry wasn’t able to look at him any longer. He busied himself with getting a fresh t-shirt, flushing as he felt Charlie’s eyes on his body.
Charlie had messed up, but Harry still wanted him desperately. That was why he’d been avoiding Charlie - all it would take was a sexy look, a flash of skin, and a light touch, and Harry would be putty in Charlie’s hands.
“Are you still pissed at me for leaving?” Charlie asked. When Harry turned back to face him, Charlie’s eyebrows were furrowed, as if he couldn’t figure out why Harry had held onto a grudge for two years. “I know it was a shitty thing to do, but it’s been two years,” Charlie added, confirming Harry’s suspicions.
What was Harry supposed to say? That while he was annoyed at Charlie’s sudden appearance, that was mostly caused by the bitterness he still held towards Charlie leaving without warning? And that Harry hadn’t been able to stop loving Charlie, despite knowing that Charlie viewed Harry as nothing more than a casual fuck?
“No, I’m not mad,” Harry lied. “It just would have been nice for you to tell me that you were going. Given our thing... It doesn’t matter, though. That was then and this is now, and you coming and going from the country doesn’t concern me.”
Harry inwardly cursed as he realised he must have overdone it; Charlie, the bastard, smiled like he was amused.
“You sound very unconcerned,” Charlie teased.
Despite the scowl that crossed his face, Harry was beginning to feel turned on. Charlie wound Harry up and drove him crazy, but Harry kind of enjoyed that.
Then, of course, Charlie had to ruin it.
“I thought the thing between us was only something casual,” Charlie said, digging yet another nail into the coffin which held any possibility for an actual relationship between Harry and Charlie.
“I just remembered I have something to do,” Harry announced, running forward and opening the door. “Please go so I can do it.”
“Harry-” Charlie started to say, but Harry cut him off, ushering him the door all the while.
“Wow, I can’t believe how urgent this is. Tell your mum I’m sorry I missed breakfast, and thank you for the excuse to throw a party,” Harry said, speaking very quickly before slamming the door in Charlie’s face.
“But you have my hat!” Charlie cried through the door, but Harry ignored him.
Sighing, Harry slid onto the floor and banged his head against the door, and banged it once again for good measure.
Missing Charlie from afar had been simple; having Charlie back was torture.
Charlie’s bad communication was irritating and hurtful but Harry would get over it. However being in love with a man who didn’t love him back was something Harry would not be able to get over so quickly.
But rather than getting over it, maybe all Harry needed to do was make Charlie want him.
***
Bertram Clarence was one of the most boring people that Harry knew.
He worked in the Budgeting sub-Department in the Auror offices, and rarely spoke unless it was to tell the Aurors off for causing too much expensive damage. He wore braces on his trousers, and a bowtie on his shirt, and combed his hair at least once an hour to keep it looking impeccable.
Bertram had first looked at Harry in disgust when Harry had invited him to the Burrow for Sunday Dinner, but his look had soon turned hopeful when he asked if Percy was going to be there. When Harry said that Percy would indeed be there, Bertram readily agreed.
Which was how Harry ended up with Bertram for a date. Harry had only gone for a man who was the complete opposite of Charlie to make Charlie jealous, and Harry was pretty sure that Bertram was using Harry to get to Percy, but as long as they lasted long enough to make a statement then Harry would be happy.
Much to Harry’s pleasure, Charlie’s eyes narrowed when Harry walked into the Burrow, clinging onto Bertram’s arm, and he hadn’t stopped sending Bertram filthy glares.
Harry had worn Charlie’s suede hat, too - which he totally hadn’t been smelling constantly and falling asleep with - to further prove the point that Harry apparently didn’t need Charlie anymore; he was just worth a hat to him now. A massive lie, but that wasn’t the important part.
Bertram didn’t seem to notice Charlie’s glaring at first - he was too busy staring in awe at Percy - and didn’t even make a reaction when he sat on one of George’s whoopee cushions.
“So Mr. Weasley,” Bertram said after they all gathered around the table. Several heads turned towards Bertram, but he only had eyes for Percy. “I must say what an inspiration you are; you’ve achieved so much in the Ministry at such a young age.”
Percy puffed his chest out, but before he could verbalise his agreement, Charlie cut in with his own thoughts.
“Percy’s done well, yeah, but if he’s your inspiration then you’ve clearly never met a dragonologist before,” Charlie murmured, grinning when Percy glared and Bertram scowled.
“Dragonology is a rather basic job, isn’t it? Not something I would call inspiring,” Bertram retorted, turning his nose up. “Rolling around in mud and avoiding fire is hardly a suitable career choice.”
Charlie didn’t miss a beat. “They do say that dragonologists tend to be hot,” Charlie agreed, and he turned towards Harry when Harry couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter. “I don’t mean heat hot, by the way, I mean attractive hot; that’s the joke. I wasn’t sure if you’d get that because you’ve probably not heard the alternative meaning before.”
“The term hot isn’t very classy,” Bertram scoffed. “And nor are tattoos.”
The rest of the meal went similarly, with Bertram and Charlie making constant jibes at each other.
“They say accountants are the most boring people you’ll ever meet,” Charlie said. “Is that what drew you to it?”
“I suppose practical jobs are useful for helping the less intelligent to still feel like they’re useful on occasion,” Bertram sneered.
Two things came out of Charlie and Bertram’s insult war; Harry found that Bertram was very much insufferable and Harry was going to make sure to cause a very expensive mess at the first opportunity, but also that Charlie was definitely jealous of Bertram.
Charlie could be quite snarky, but he was never overly mean unless he had a good reason to be, and jealousy was reason enough, apparently.
“Charlie!” Mrs Weasley called out sternly when Charlie had started on a track that looked like it would lead to insulting Bertram’s manhood. “Will you please go to the pantry to get the cake I made? Harry, dear, you’ve finished; would you mind going with him to get some bowls and spoons?”
Harry would mind, because last time they had been in the pantry together Charlie had shagged Harry senseless against the door. But he plastered a smile on his face and agreed to do it.
He kept his eyes locked on Charlie as he patted Bertram’s arms gently and promised to be back soon, before strolling out of the kitchen without waiting for Charlie.
Harry could almost feel Charlie’s eyes on his arse as the man followed him to the pantry, and the moment Harry opened the door to it Charlie’s hands grabbed his arse and pushed him into the room.
“Charlie!” Harry exclaimed, stopping in his tracks and spinning around. Charlie’s hands shifted so they were holding Harry’s hips, and Harry didn’t bother to push them away. “What are you doing? I’m here with Bertram.”
“Really, Harry? You’re here with Bertram?” Charlie deadpanned.
Harry pretended to be offended. “Why wouldn’t I be? He’s smart, and clever, and really…intelligent. Oh, I can’t carry this on with a straight face.”
He grinned, and Charlie did too, and for a moment it was like how things were before, when Charlie made Harry feel happy and forget everything else in the world.
“I’ve missed you, Harry,” Charlie murmured, his hands dropping back down to Harry’s arse.
“If you hadn’t left you wouldn’t have missed me,” Harry pointed out quietly, running his hands over Charlie’s thick, muscular arms.
Merlin, being this close to Charlie was torture, but Harry couldn’t just jump into bed with Charlie - no matter how much he wanted to - without saying what he wanted to say first. Charlie needed to know what Harry’s feelings towards him were, otherwise Harry would be stuck in the ‘casual’ category again.
“I thought you were very unconcerned with my whereabouts,” Charlie said, mimicking Harry’s words from a few days previous. “If me leaving bothered you then you should have-”
“Should have what?!” Harry cried, gripping tightly onto Charlie’s biceps as if he was suddenly afraid to let go, like Charlie might catch the next Portkey back to Romania again. “Should I have written to you and begged you to come home? You obviously left for a reason; what did I matter?”
“Everything,” Charlie breathed, tilting his head up until his lips were inches away from Harry’s. “You mattered to me more than anything else. I left because I fell in love with you, and I couldn’t bear being so close to you when you didn’t feel the same way about me.”
Harry froze; how had he read Charlie so wrong? How had Charlie read Harry so wrong? Imagine the hardship they’d have saved themselves if they had taken a break from shagging to actually talk about them.
“I did feel the same way about you,” Harry whispered, and he shut his eyes as Charlie’s lips ghosted over his. “I still do.”
Harry tilted his head down just enough, and then a burst of intensity hit them both as they kissed for the first time in two years; two years of longing and yearning fuelled their kiss, spurring them on as they clung to each other tightly.
When they finally pulled away for breath they were both panting, and Charlie’s pupils were blown wide.
“What do you say we forget the cake and go back to your place?” Charlie asked suggestively, and Harry nodded eagerly.
They left the pantry, and were met with the sight of Bertram and Percy kissing just as passionately as Harry and Charlie and been. They jumped apart when they heard Harry and Charlie approach, and Bertram had the nerve to not even look guilty.
“Bertram! Wow!” Harry exclaimed in mock shock. “I thought you were on a date with me and then you make out with Percy? Wow, I am horrified. Heartbroken, even.”
“I didn’t think you were into me,” Bertram said with a casual shrug. He glanced at Percy and lowered his voice. “If you want, we could have a threesome?”
Harry instantly took a step back. “No way; not happening,” he declared firmly, lightly elbowing Charlie who had broken down in laughter. “I’m not going that far in this charade.”
Harry left a scowling Percy and Bertram with a spring in his step, and linked his fingers with Charlie’s. Hermione always said communication was key in any relationship; now Harry knew why.
“Alright, Harry,” Charlie grinned, “I’m good at my job; now let’s see how good you are at riding dragons.”
Author:
leontinabowiePrompt: Number 94 by
drarryxloverPairing: Harry/Charlie
Word Count: 3900
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Sex references
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to the mods for their patience. This is possibly the cheesiest title I have ever given a story, and I apologise for that.
Summary: Harry and Charlie had a casual thing, but Charlie returned to Romania before Harry could admit to his true feelings. Two years later Charlie returns, forcing Harry to confront those feelings once again.
***
Ginny had been very excited to set Harry up with Spencer Morgan, the brother of one of the other chasers on the Holyhead Harpies.
Harry could see why Ginny had been excited. Spencer was incredibly handsome; tall and slender, with soft brown hair that bounced whenever he moved his head, hazel eyes that glinted brown or green depending on how the light hit them, and with full red lips. Spencer worked for a private and very successful solicitor’s firm, apprenticing under the owner herself.
Spencer had all that going for him, but Harry knew that it would never work because Spencer was no Charlie Weasley.
It was wrong of Harry to compare all his dates to Charlie - especially because they could never compare - but even after two years Harry still hadn’t been able to get over his ex.
After the war had ended, and following the death of Fred, Charlie came home from Romania to spend time with his family.
Harry had been staying at the Burrow, but had felt like an outsider due to not being an actual Weasley. After a drunken chat one night, Charlie revealed that he felt the same way; he had been in Romania for so long that he’d missed years of Weasley life, and didn’t fit in anymore.
With the help of more alcohol, Harry and Charlie’s nightly chats soon turned into more, and a causal relationship formed between them. It was just sex, they said, and having someone to spend the night with and feel close to was a great comfort.
Harry, however, could never make anything simple, and ended up developing feelings for Charlie. He hadn’t told Charlie, fearing rejection, but Charlie ended up rejecting him anyway.
Charlie had gone back to Romania on a day’s notice, fleeing like something had terrified him. Harry had pondered for weeks over it - if it had been him that had driven Charlie away - but he never figured it out.
Charlie was still on Harry’s mind, though, and had fucked up every potential relationship since.
Spencer cleared his throat and wrapped long, elegant fingers around his glass of water as he picked it up. Charlie’s thick, calloused fingers were better.
In fact, everything about Charlie was better. Charlie was a proper manly man; he was short, a couple of inches shorter than Harry, but he had broad shoulders and a full chest which was dusted with red hair. And much to Harry’s pleasure, Charlie had a cock to match his build; just under average in length, but deliciously thick - it more than made up for length in girth. Charlie’s back was covered in an Antipodean Opaleye dragon tattoo, and last time Harry had seen him he had a Romanian Longhorn on one arm, and was planning on getting a Hebridean Black on the other.
Harry’s date with Spencer finished as soon as they finished their meal, and though they exchanged the polite, “I had a lovely time,” comments, neither of them made a request for a second date, or promised to be in touch. Harry supposed he could have been a bit less mopey, but Charlie had made him bitter.
Harry decided to head to the Burrow so he could slag Spencer off to Ginny before Spencer slagged Harry off to his sister; at least that way when the two women got together Ginny would be on Harry’s side.
Harry was so used to the Burrow by now that he didn’t spare it a second thought as he walked through the front door after Apparating. It was just as crooked and cluttered as always, with knitting projects hovering in the air and Muggle trinkets charmed by Mr Weasley jumping along the surfaces.
So, naturally, Harry didn’t consider the possibility that anything else could be different. He expected to find Mrs and Mr Weasley in the kitchen with a cup of tea, or Ginny making herself one of those odd kale smoothies that she was so fond of.
He had been half-right. Mr and Mrs Weasley were in the kitchen, as was Ginny. Ron was in there, too, along with Hermione and George; Harry didn’t have eyes for any of them.
Because there in the middle of the kitchen for the first time in two years was Charlie Weasley.
***
Harry didn’t get chance to talk to Charlie alone that night.
A very tearful and excited Mrs Weasley had told Harry that Charlie was back in England for good, having taken a job in a new dragon sanctuary that was being opened in a remote location in the Cairngorms mountain range.
Mrs Weasley had then proceeded to hug Charlie, much to Charlie’s displeasure if his grimace was anything to go by, and then Ginny dragged Harry away to ask how his date had gone.
Harry had been pleased to find out that Charlie hadn’t told any of his family that he was coming home - at least it hadn’t been personal against Harry - but he was still annoyed that Charlie had done so.
Disappearing with hardly any notice, and then returning without a word, like he didn’t care about the damage he’d done by leaving so unexpectedly, just wasn’t on.
It seemed that Harry was alone in his thoughts, however, because the Weasleys had decided to throw a welcome home party for Charlie. Harry was invited, and all he’d been able to think about was wondering how he’d be able to face Charlie at the party.
When he arrived at the Burrow and saw a very sly looking George standing by the punch bowl, Harry knew that he’d found his answer.
“How much did you spike this?” Harry said to George as way of greeting, jerking his head towards the punch bowl.
George clapped a hand to his chest dramatically. “Harry Potter! Are you insinuating I would spike my own mother’s punch?” George grabbed the ladle and filled a cup before handing it to Harry, and pulled a metal flask out from under his jacket. “I’ll personally spike yours now if you want?”
Harry caught sight of Charlie, standing beneath a bright orange banner which read ‘WELCOME HOME, CHARLIE’. Charlie was laughing with Bill, and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Fill me up, George,” Harry said, holding out his cup.
He downed the drink gratefully, and when he emerged from behind his cup the world seemed slightly brighter. George held the flask out to Harry.
“You look like you could do with this,” George said sympathetically, patting Harry on the shoulder.
And so Harry had his solution; every time he saw Charlie, or caught sight of Charlie coming towards him, Harry would run away and take a drink from the flask.
The plan worked well, and even when the world stopped becoming brighter and started to become fuzzy, it was still preferential to seeing Charlie. Seeing Charlie would bring up lots of feelings which Harry didn’t quite want to confront yet.
“I don’t see why Charlie even deserves a party,” Harry whined, folding his arms across his chest and spilling some of his drink in the process. “Just because he comes home from Romania. Big deal. It’s not party worthy, is it? And why couldn’t he tell me he was coming home? Why does he think it’s fine to drop in and out of my life when it suits him?”
Harry’s companion remained silent. He was an odd bloke, tall and very skinny, and he wore two hats on his head.
“You’re a great listener,” Harry murmured seriously, swinging his hand to pat the man’s shoulder. He missed and stumbled forwards, stopped only from falling by a soft pair of hands grabbing his shoulders.
“Ginny!” Harry exclaimed when he caught sight of long red hair. “Have you met my friend?”
“Merlin, Harry, how much have you drank?” Ginny grimaced, looking him up and down in concern.
“I’ve hardly had anything!” Harry retorted defensively, tipping his flask upside down to prove a point. A single drop fell from it, and Harry watched it splash as it hit the brown carpeted floor.
“So you make a habit of talking to hat stands?” Ginny queried, taking the hats off Harry’s companion and revealing several prongs that Harry hadn’t seen before.
“Oh,” he mumbled, hanging his head.
Glancing back up, he reached for the suede hat that Ginny was holding and propped it on his head.
“Come on, Harry; let’s go to bed,” Ginny said gently, linking her arm with his and guiding him towards the stairs.
“I don’t think Dean will like that very much,” Harry pointed out, waving his arm to try and catch Dean’s attention.
“Stop that!” Ginny hissed, blocking his arm with her own. “We’re not going to bed together. You’re going to Ron’s room.”
Ron’s room was just as orange as it had always been, and Harry brought his arm up to his face to shield his eyes. He swayed slightly as he stumbled towards the bed, and fell easily onto it when Ginny gave him a slight shove.
The hat fell from his head in the process, and he clutched it tightly to him. It smelt of salt and firewood, and he breathed the familiar scent in deeply.
He was asleep in seconds.
***
Harry groaned when bright sunlight filtered through the window and stung his eyes. He pulled the bed covers up over his head, trying to ignore the way his head was pounding, like his skull was grinding against his skin.
The smell of breakfast managed to reach him through his linen defences, and it was only that which gave Harry the motivation to stumble out of bed and raid Ron’s very basic potion supply. Ron could always be trusted to have a Hangover Relief potion, however, and Harry gratefully downed it.
Even as the headache faded away, Harry still couldn’t quite come to grips with what had happened the night before; it was all a blur. He vaguely remembered talking to a tall and silent stranger, and avoiding Charlie, but that was about it.
A knock sounded at the door, and - assuming it was Ron coming back to his room - Harry shouted for him to come in while he sat on the bed and tugged yesterday’s crumpled shirt over his head.
The silence that followed was uncharacteristic for Ron, and Harry felt a feeling of unease as he finally freed himself of his shirt.
Charlie rather than Ron stood in front of Harry, and Charlie smiled awkwardly as the door shut behind him.
Damn it, Charlie still looked good. With his customary ginger stubble on his chin - which had always felt fantastic rubbing against Harry’s thighs - and his defined muscles which bulged underneath his black shirt, Harry knew he was still hopelessly in love with Charlie.
He was mad at Charlie for his bad communication, yes, but it would be very easy for Harry to forgive Charlie.
“I didn’t get chance to speak to you at the party,” Charlie said as way of greeting, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.
“I was lost in the crowd, I imagine,” Harry shrugged. “It’s nice to see you home, Charlie,” he added, because it was nice to see Charlie home, even his appearance was causing Harry emotional turmoil.
“I’m sorry for not telling you I was coming. Mum wasn’t very happy that I dropped in without warning,” Charlie mumbled, never having been good at apologising. He wasn’t much of a talker - he was more physical.
Harry, however, could be pretty good at talking on occasion.
“Yeah, but after you left the country without warning, it’s to be expected that you’d come back without a word,” he retorted, raising a brow at Charlie.
Charlie pursed his lips, and Harry wasn’t able to look at him any longer. He busied himself with getting a fresh t-shirt, flushing as he felt Charlie’s eyes on his body.
Charlie had messed up, but Harry still wanted him desperately. That was why he’d been avoiding Charlie - all it would take was a sexy look, a flash of skin, and a light touch, and Harry would be putty in Charlie’s hands.
“Are you still pissed at me for leaving?” Charlie asked. When Harry turned back to face him, Charlie’s eyebrows were furrowed, as if he couldn’t figure out why Harry had held onto a grudge for two years. “I know it was a shitty thing to do, but it’s been two years,” Charlie added, confirming Harry’s suspicions.
What was Harry supposed to say? That while he was annoyed at Charlie’s sudden appearance, that was mostly caused by the bitterness he still held towards Charlie leaving without warning? And that Harry hadn’t been able to stop loving Charlie, despite knowing that Charlie viewed Harry as nothing more than a casual fuck?
“No, I’m not mad,” Harry lied. “It just would have been nice for you to tell me that you were going. Given our thing... It doesn’t matter, though. That was then and this is now, and you coming and going from the country doesn’t concern me.”
Harry inwardly cursed as he realised he must have overdone it; Charlie, the bastard, smiled like he was amused.
“You sound very unconcerned,” Charlie teased.
Despite the scowl that crossed his face, Harry was beginning to feel turned on. Charlie wound Harry up and drove him crazy, but Harry kind of enjoyed that.
Then, of course, Charlie had to ruin it.
“I thought the thing between us was only something casual,” Charlie said, digging yet another nail into the coffin which held any possibility for an actual relationship between Harry and Charlie.
“I just remembered I have something to do,” Harry announced, running forward and opening the door. “Please go so I can do it.”
“Harry-” Charlie started to say, but Harry cut him off, ushering him the door all the while.
“Wow, I can’t believe how urgent this is. Tell your mum I’m sorry I missed breakfast, and thank you for the excuse to throw a party,” Harry said, speaking very quickly before slamming the door in Charlie’s face.
“But you have my hat!” Charlie cried through the door, but Harry ignored him.
Sighing, Harry slid onto the floor and banged his head against the door, and banged it once again for good measure.
Missing Charlie from afar had been simple; having Charlie back was torture.
Charlie’s bad communication was irritating and hurtful but Harry would get over it. However being in love with a man who didn’t love him back was something Harry would not be able to get over so quickly.
But rather than getting over it, maybe all Harry needed to do was make Charlie want him.
***
Bertram Clarence was one of the most boring people that Harry knew.
He worked in the Budgeting sub-Department in the Auror offices, and rarely spoke unless it was to tell the Aurors off for causing too much expensive damage. He wore braces on his trousers, and a bowtie on his shirt, and combed his hair at least once an hour to keep it looking impeccable.
Bertram had first looked at Harry in disgust when Harry had invited him to the Burrow for Sunday Dinner, but his look had soon turned hopeful when he asked if Percy was going to be there. When Harry said that Percy would indeed be there, Bertram readily agreed.
Which was how Harry ended up with Bertram for a date. Harry had only gone for a man who was the complete opposite of Charlie to make Charlie jealous, and Harry was pretty sure that Bertram was using Harry to get to Percy, but as long as they lasted long enough to make a statement then Harry would be happy.
Much to Harry’s pleasure, Charlie’s eyes narrowed when Harry walked into the Burrow, clinging onto Bertram’s arm, and he hadn’t stopped sending Bertram filthy glares.
Harry had worn Charlie’s suede hat, too - which he totally hadn’t been smelling constantly and falling asleep with - to further prove the point that Harry apparently didn’t need Charlie anymore; he was just worth a hat to him now. A massive lie, but that wasn’t the important part.
Bertram didn’t seem to notice Charlie’s glaring at first - he was too busy staring in awe at Percy - and didn’t even make a reaction when he sat on one of George’s whoopee cushions.
“So Mr. Weasley,” Bertram said after they all gathered around the table. Several heads turned towards Bertram, but he only had eyes for Percy. “I must say what an inspiration you are; you’ve achieved so much in the Ministry at such a young age.”
Percy puffed his chest out, but before he could verbalise his agreement, Charlie cut in with his own thoughts.
“Percy’s done well, yeah, but if he’s your inspiration then you’ve clearly never met a dragonologist before,” Charlie murmured, grinning when Percy glared and Bertram scowled.
“Dragonology is a rather basic job, isn’t it? Not something I would call inspiring,” Bertram retorted, turning his nose up. “Rolling around in mud and avoiding fire is hardly a suitable career choice.”
Charlie didn’t miss a beat. “They do say that dragonologists tend to be hot,” Charlie agreed, and he turned towards Harry when Harry couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter. “I don’t mean heat hot, by the way, I mean attractive hot; that’s the joke. I wasn’t sure if you’d get that because you’ve probably not heard the alternative meaning before.”
“The term hot isn’t very classy,” Bertram scoffed. “And nor are tattoos.”
The rest of the meal went similarly, with Bertram and Charlie making constant jibes at each other.
“They say accountants are the most boring people you’ll ever meet,” Charlie said. “Is that what drew you to it?”
“I suppose practical jobs are useful for helping the less intelligent to still feel like they’re useful on occasion,” Bertram sneered.
Two things came out of Charlie and Bertram’s insult war; Harry found that Bertram was very much insufferable and Harry was going to make sure to cause a very expensive mess at the first opportunity, but also that Charlie was definitely jealous of Bertram.
Charlie could be quite snarky, but he was never overly mean unless he had a good reason to be, and jealousy was reason enough, apparently.
“Charlie!” Mrs Weasley called out sternly when Charlie had started on a track that looked like it would lead to insulting Bertram’s manhood. “Will you please go to the pantry to get the cake I made? Harry, dear, you’ve finished; would you mind going with him to get some bowls and spoons?”
Harry would mind, because last time they had been in the pantry together Charlie had shagged Harry senseless against the door. But he plastered a smile on his face and agreed to do it.
He kept his eyes locked on Charlie as he patted Bertram’s arms gently and promised to be back soon, before strolling out of the kitchen without waiting for Charlie.
Harry could almost feel Charlie’s eyes on his arse as the man followed him to the pantry, and the moment Harry opened the door to it Charlie’s hands grabbed his arse and pushed him into the room.
“Charlie!” Harry exclaimed, stopping in his tracks and spinning around. Charlie’s hands shifted so they were holding Harry’s hips, and Harry didn’t bother to push them away. “What are you doing? I’m here with Bertram.”
“Really, Harry? You’re here with Bertram?” Charlie deadpanned.
Harry pretended to be offended. “Why wouldn’t I be? He’s smart, and clever, and really…intelligent. Oh, I can’t carry this on with a straight face.”
He grinned, and Charlie did too, and for a moment it was like how things were before, when Charlie made Harry feel happy and forget everything else in the world.
“I’ve missed you, Harry,” Charlie murmured, his hands dropping back down to Harry’s arse.
“If you hadn’t left you wouldn’t have missed me,” Harry pointed out quietly, running his hands over Charlie’s thick, muscular arms.
Merlin, being this close to Charlie was torture, but Harry couldn’t just jump into bed with Charlie - no matter how much he wanted to - without saying what he wanted to say first. Charlie needed to know what Harry’s feelings towards him were, otherwise Harry would be stuck in the ‘casual’ category again.
“I thought you were very unconcerned with my whereabouts,” Charlie said, mimicking Harry’s words from a few days previous. “If me leaving bothered you then you should have-”
“Should have what?!” Harry cried, gripping tightly onto Charlie’s biceps as if he was suddenly afraid to let go, like Charlie might catch the next Portkey back to Romania again. “Should I have written to you and begged you to come home? You obviously left for a reason; what did I matter?”
“Everything,” Charlie breathed, tilting his head up until his lips were inches away from Harry’s. “You mattered to me more than anything else. I left because I fell in love with you, and I couldn’t bear being so close to you when you didn’t feel the same way about me.”
Harry froze; how had he read Charlie so wrong? How had Charlie read Harry so wrong? Imagine the hardship they’d have saved themselves if they had taken a break from shagging to actually talk about them.
“I did feel the same way about you,” Harry whispered, and he shut his eyes as Charlie’s lips ghosted over his. “I still do.”
Harry tilted his head down just enough, and then a burst of intensity hit them both as they kissed for the first time in two years; two years of longing and yearning fuelled their kiss, spurring them on as they clung to each other tightly.
When they finally pulled away for breath they were both panting, and Charlie’s pupils were blown wide.
“What do you say we forget the cake and go back to your place?” Charlie asked suggestively, and Harry nodded eagerly.
They left the pantry, and were met with the sight of Bertram and Percy kissing just as passionately as Harry and Charlie and been. They jumped apart when they heard Harry and Charlie approach, and Bertram had the nerve to not even look guilty.
“Bertram! Wow!” Harry exclaimed in mock shock. “I thought you were on a date with me and then you make out with Percy? Wow, I am horrified. Heartbroken, even.”
“I didn’t think you were into me,” Bertram said with a casual shrug. He glanced at Percy and lowered his voice. “If you want, we could have a threesome?”
Harry instantly took a step back. “No way; not happening,” he declared firmly, lightly elbowing Charlie who had broken down in laughter. “I’m not going that far in this charade.”
Harry left a scowling Percy and Bertram with a spring in his step, and linked his fingers with Charlie’s. Hermione always said communication was key in any relationship; now Harry knew why.
“Alright, Harry,” Charlie grinned, “I’m good at my job; now let’s see how good you are at riding dragons.”
no subject
Date: 2015-06-19 02:09 pm (UTC)