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It's Complicated	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2708 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off of it. The boys are all just so sexy I can't help playing with them a bit. I'll put them back when I'm done. In tact. ...probably.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-13
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter
12

“Char,
are you you planning to go through your entire wardrobe before
breakfast?” Ron asked, bemused.

Charlie tore off the
festive red t-shirt he'd just put on with a huff. “Too red. Way
too red, red hair, red shirt, ugh, what was I thinking buying that
thing? What do you think, Ronnie? The green one's nice, isn't it?
Augh, why am I asking you, you're straight and obviously have no
fashion sense,” Charlie babbled nervously.

“Hey!”
Ron started to protest but was cut off as Charlie turned. “Bill,
the green one? Yeah? Or...”

Bill smirked from where
he was slouched against his old bed with his arm around Viktor's
waist. Bill and Viktor were inseparable. Joined at the hip, as it
were. Charlie no longer thought anything of the extra body in the
cramped room he used to share with his older brother when they were
kids. “Take a deep breath, Charlie. You're freaking out,”
Bill teased.

“But!”
It was a really important date! Bill didn't understand. He'd missed
Seamus so
much.
Of course, he hadn't told anyone it was Seamus he was running off to
see. He just said 'a date'. A date he was freaking out over, so his
brothers might just know and be keeping their mouths shut, but they
were so
useless when it came to picking what to wear!

“I
thought the brown vone vas nice,” Viktor offered quietly.

Charlie blinked down at
the first shirt he'd tried on. “The brown one, huh?” He
held the long sleeved jersey in front of him and then pulled it over
his head. The v-neckline exposed the dip of his collarbone and the
sleeves curled around the curves of his muscular arms. “You
don't think it makes me look fat?” he asked, then laughed at
himself, raking his hands through his hair. “Merlin, I sound
like a girl.”

“You
are a girl. A big, burly dragon-taming girl,” Bill joked.
“Viktor's right. The brown one's nice. Sexy enough to make him
do a double take, but casual enough to look like you weren't trying.
Might want to lay off the pies though,” he teased, reaching up
to poke Charlie's belly.

Charlie swatted his hand
away irritably. “What do you know?” he replied. “He
likes my podge. At least I'm not a scrawny arse like you. Does he
even eat, Vik?”

“Like
a horse,” Viktor answered. “I cannot figure out vhere he
puts it all.”

“I
burn it off shagging you, obviously,” Bill answered.

Charlie laughed at the
bright dash of color that darted across Viktor's cheeks. It calmed
him down a bit. He took a deep breath and checked his reflection once
more, combing his hair to tame it, though he knew the second it hit
open air the strands would be falling unevenly across his brow as
usual. “Okay, wish me luck.” He'd never been this nervous
over a date in his life.

“Have
you ever needed luck when it comes to guys?” Bill asked
bemusedly.

“For
this one, I might just,” he answered with a sheepish smile.

“This
one's a keeper, then? Not just a shag.”

“He's
more than a keeper, Bill, he's the one. I just need to convince him
that I am too.” He hurried down the stairs and grabbed his
jacket before barreling for the front door.

“Charlie
Weasley where do you think you're going? Dinner is...” Molly
started to protest.

“Sorry
mum, got a date. Don't wait up.” Charlie back-pedaled to give
his mother a kiss on the cheek before blowing out the door.

“Charlie!”

“Don't
bother, mum,” Ron said from the stairwell. “He's got a
right fancy for this one. Changed his shirt at least half a dozen
times.”

“That
so?” Molly asked, looking a bit hopeful.

“It's
so,” Bill said, nudging Ron aside with his elbow to make his
way down the stairs, Viktor in tow. “Whatever you're cooking
smells great. Want me and Vik to set the table?”

“Well,
about time, then,” Molly said. “Charlie should have
settled down ages ago. A boyfriend might convince him away from those
dragons, get him to do something a little safer,”
she fussed. “Oh, you're such a dear Bill, but no, Ginny and
Hermoine have already done it. Just go in the living room and relax
until it's finished. Would you like something to drink, Viktor dear?”

“No
thank you, Mrs. Veasley. I am fine.”

“Well
don't you be shy. Ask if you want anything, anything at all.”

Ron covered his mouth in
amusement. Honestly. Well, he decided he'd go back upstairs until...

“Ronald
Weasley!”

Urk. “Er...yes
mum?”

“What
are you thinking, hm? Letting your wife set the table while you lay
about. I didn't raise my children to be lazy,” she huffed at
him.

“Aw,
but mum, she really doesn't mind that sort of thing, and I'm always
breaking the dishes...”

“Don't
but mum me, get down here and help your mother in the kitchen. Stir
the stew and start the tea.”

Ron slumped. “Yes
mum...” he said, mumbling as he came down the stairs. “The
hell? She has four gay sons. Four! And the straight one is the one
who gets hell for not helping out in the kitchen...swear she plays
favorites...'

***

Seamus looked at his
reflection in the window of a closed robe shop and fussed with the
collar of the red polo shirt he'd put on. 'I should have worn the
blue one. I look like shite in red.' He checked his watch for the
tenth time. He was still ten minutes early. He kept having this fear
that Charlie would stand him up, which was ridiculous. It was just
having been with Percy so long he was used to being stood up and
preparing himself for disappointment.

He worried his lower lip.
The closer to the date they'd arranged it got, the more excited
Seamus had become. He even went and...urgh...because he thought
Charlie would like it...but, now he felt like an idiot for the
impulsive behavior. It was just dinner. It's not as if they were
going to...do anything. He'd promised himself he wouldn't until he
was good and over the whole Percy thing, hadn't he? The thought of
seeing Charlie again after months apart and even more months avoiding
him had made Seamus forget all those lofty ideals and promises he'd
made to himself.

“I'm
not sure I like that sullen expression.”

Seamus jumped out of his
thoughts and spun to find Charlie standing there with his messy red
hair and his hands in his pockets. He was five minutes early. Five
whole minutes. Seamus' chest did a happy, fluttery dance. Early.
He couldn't stop the big, stupid grin from spreading across his
face. “Hey,” he said breathlessly. Why he sounded like
he'd just run a marathon was beyond him. Well, maybe he'd run an
emotional marathon, or something.

Charlie took a few long
steps to bridge the distance between them, taking in the sandy hair
and the blue eyes that looked almost gray in the moonlight. “Hey,”
he answered, removing his hands from his pockets and dragging his
fingertips across Seamus' cheek. So beautiful. “You look
gorgeous in red.”

Seamus blushed and
Charlie couldn't stop himself from leaning down to drag his lips
softly over a flushed cheek before pulling him into an embrace that
the Irishman melted into.

“Missed
you so much,” Charlie murmured into his hair.

Seamus answered by
curling his arms more tightly around Charlie's strong back, not
trusting the wave of emotions not to crack his voice.

They stayed like that a
while before Charlie pulled back to look down into Seamus' eyes. “So,
how've you been doing?” he asked tentatively.

“Better,”
Seamus answered after a pause. “You look better, too.” He
smirked slid his hand around Charlie's love handles to rest on his
belly. “Done starving yourself, I see.”

“You
have a podge-fetish,” Charlie teased, lifting a hand and
kissing the palm before lacing their fingers together to head for the
restaurant.

“It's
not about the podge,” Seamus griped. “It's about you.
Your podgy belly is part of you, so I like it, that's all.”

“Careful
now, or you'll make me blush,” Charlie teased.

“Turnabout
is fair play.” God, Charlie was beautiful. Had he always been
this beautiful? All Seamus wanted to do was touch him. It was a
struggle to hold onto the dinner conversation when his gaze just kept
trailing about the way Charlie's jersey stretched across his thick
arms and chest when he moved, exposed the dip of his collarbone.
Watching the man's mouth open wide and curl around his food over and
over, imagining it curling around...other things. The tongue licking,
the lips...kissing. Oh, how he wanted to be kissing Charlie now.
Everything else fell away as if it didn't exist.

They talked about the
dragons, and laughed about Marik's horrible cooking and the way Cezar
was always griping about their badly-timed jokes.

“He's
too serious, is all,” Charlie laughed.

“Reminds
me of someone else we both know,” Seamus said before he
realized he'd brought up the subject. They both went a little quiet.

“Yeah...”
Charlie said at last. “He's like that too. How're you handling
that?” he asked seriously.

Seamus shrugged. “Some
days, good. Other days, not so much.” He lowered his fork.
“It's not about the relationship,” he said earnestly.
“It's about the...”

“The
lies, right?” Charlie asked.

Seamus sighed. “Why
do you know me so well?”

“Because
I listen when you speak. You're not a hard guy to know, Shay. You're
just not used to someone putting in the effort.” Charlie risked
reaching across the table to rest his hand over Seamus' smaller hand.
“Percy's my brother, and I love him, but I don't deny he's an
arse. I...that night he was in the hospital...”

Seamus looked up in
surprise – it was a topic they never breached. He didn't know
why he knew it was a taboo, but it always had been between them.
Seamus never got the details on what really happened that night.

“...I'm
the one who put him there,” Charlie admitted. He slid his hand
back, but Seamus grabbed it and stopped him, running his thumb over
the older man's knuckles. “I was going to pick up George for a
New Year's Eve in. You know, be a good big brother and demand he not
stay at home sulking. We were just gonna watch movies and get
properly trashed. But when I got there they were...” He gave
Seamus a meaningful look so he didn't have to say it. “...finishing.
I knew you were somewhere waiting, being stood up, again, and I
just...I fucking lost it, Shay. I nearly killed him. I'm his brother,
and I nearly killed him. Then I saw you kissing him – this guy
who just walked all over you and treated you like shite and I...I
don't know. I wasn't me
anymore, and I didn't realize it until George showed up on my
doorstep in tears. Merlin, promised myself this would be a good date.
I wasn't going to talk about any of this bollocks.”

Seamus gave him a soft
smile. “It's okay. It might be better if we just, ya know, get
it all out there. Get it over and done with. When was that?”

“That
was the night you set the villa on fire. Well, morning, I guess.
George was drunk, crying his eyes out, and I felt like such an arse
for hating them for hurting you. George...he can't help that he fell
in love with someone he's not meant to have. I couldn't help the same
thing. I realized how stupid I was – giving all this good
advice about love, about going after what you want even if it's
complicated, and not taking any of it. Somehow I got it in my head to
party crash. It was just an accident that I wasn't there at the time,
that that happened and you had to see it. I was...” he gave
Seamus an awkward smile. “In the bushes. Puking. I guess Percy
heard me and went to check it out, and what he found was George.
George was completely hammered, not thinking clearly. He wanted to
win Percy back from you, but if he was sober I'm sure – he's a
prankster, but not a prick, Seamus. He wouldn't have done it that
way. We've all made such huge
mistakes.”

Seamus let it all sink
in. “No, it's okay,” he said after a few minutes, and he
was surprised to find it really was okay. “I think if it
wasn't something extreme like that, I'd probably never have broken it
off. We'd still be tangled up in the same mess. I mean, sure, I'm
going to be paying for the damage to that villa until I die, but
because of it, we were able to let go. I guess, for Percy, I was
probably the safe road. I was his 'right thing to do'. I can't say I
wouldn't have tried to hang onto that knowing what the alternative
was if I was him. That don't mean I'm not right pissed about it. I
think I still need a good bit of time before I'll be able to look at
him without setting another house aflame...but...with a little
more time, maybe...”

“And,
until then?” Charlie asked. God, he wanted Seamus. He wanted to
pull that sexy red shirt off, cup his adorable bum...do other things
to his adorable bum... He wanted to bring him home to his apartment
in Romania, get him his job back, and never, ever allow him to leave
again.

“I...”
Seamus stumbled. That was the answer he was still looking for. He
wanted to give Charlie something more than an 'I don't know', but he
really didn't
know.

Charlie gripped his hand
a little tighter. “Can I make a suggestion?” he asked and
waited until Seamus locked his gaze and nodded uncertainly. “Come
home, Seamus. To Romania. To the dragons you ask about in ever
fucking letter you write, the friends you keep sending messages to.
And most of all, come home to me.”

Seamus' eyes widened in
surprise. “Feck, I'm a bloomin' idjit,” he drawled with a
self-deprecating chuckle. Home. Romania was home. Of course it was.
It felt like home. He thought about it all the time and worried about
the dragons and about Charlie and was always throwing a joke in to
tease Marik or Cezar or one of the others, including a recipe his mam
said was 'so simple a three year old could do it'. He loved Ireland.
Of course he would always love Ireland, and England wasn't so bad
either, but Romania was home. Romania, where Charlie was,
where the first job that ever made him feel like more than a
worthless slacker was, where all his goofy friends who told him his
Romanian was still shite were. “Char?”

“Yeah?”

“...will
you spend New Year's with me?”

Charlie stood up and
pulled Seamus across the table into a rather passionate public kiss
that had couples at neighboring tables clapping and whistling. “Fuck
yes,” Charlie answered. “Every year you'll have me, Shay.
Every fucking year.”

Seamus blushed as he fell
jelly-legged back into his chair and licked his lips while Charlie
offered the crowd a sheepish wave and a goofy smile before sitting
back down. Oops. That's right. They weren't alone. They fell silent
again for a while, but it was a pleasant silence. “Uhm...Charlie?”
Seamus asked after a long stretch.

“Hm?”
Charlie asked, happier than he could remember being in years. He
wanted to sing. Just scream out the lyrics of some sappy love song on
top of his lungs and swing around street lamps in the rain like he
belonged in some stupid old film that nobody remembered anything
about except some guy swinging around street lamps singing in the
damn rain like a complete nutter.

“Would
ye, maybe...er...like to meet me parents, before...I mean, if you
don't want to it's fine. I just thought, since we're here n'all, you
might want to...come by the day or so after Christmas? Get it over
with? That's a stupid idea, huh?”

“It's
bloody brilliant,” Charlie answered. “I can help you
pack.”

Seamus smiled shyly. His
parents, were in for one hell of a surprise. “I, uh, I'll need,
you know, a place...”

“Don't
be stupid,” Charlie said, wrinkling his nose. “Obviously,
you're going to move in with me. It'll be grand. We'll walk around
naked, shag like rabbits, hardly get any sleep, and be on a first
name basis with the delivery boys at all the best take-away
restaurants.”

Seamus laughed.
“Pervert.”

“You'll
love it,” Charlie teased.

“I
love you.”

“I
love you more,” Charlie said in a playful sing-song, dragging
his fingertip over the back of Seamus' hand.

“Liar.
That ain't possible.”

“Are
you daring me to prove it?” Charlie chirped.

“Maybe.”

Charlie laughed. “Just
you wait, Shay. It's gonna be the best fucking New Year's Eve you've
ever had.”

“All
you have to do to make sure a' that is show up.”

“With
bells on,” Charlie answered, leaning forward to kiss his love
again, ignoring any possible spectators. “With fucking bells.”
- 11
- 12
- 13
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It's Complicated