Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

WONKY CROSS	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 59358 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and especially reviews— I love them soooooo much! You all make me so happy :) All your thoughts are so precious to me!

Haha, sorry to scare you guys with the bathroom scene in that last chapter, but seriously, it happens…. It’s RL. It’s awkward, especially at the start of a romantic, physical relationship. (Remember the first time you had to share a hotel room— having one little bathroom right there 10 feet from the bed-- with a new partner?) OK, maybe it’s just me, but I was always very aware and concerned about certain biological functions happening in such close proximity to the one I wanted to be attractive to….

And since I find some practical parts of RL lacking in fanfic (a big one being morning-breath, for example: stories always have people waking up and immediately having awesome sex-- sans dried drool or eye-crusts-- with deep kisses and hot and heavy panting in each other’s faces), I had to include it!

But yeah…. Charlie is such a beautiful MAN! Very real, very unashamed and very kind. Gotta love him!

(Haha, Hollibel— from all your various comments, your husband sounds cute and hilarious!! :)

Hope you all enjoy this next bit!

~O~

ENLIGHTENMENT, PART 2

Harry’s stomach plummeted in shock as he shrunk back from Charlie.

The dark-haired mason was striding up aisle between the long tables towards them, calling out, “There you are, Mr. Chuckles! Your brother said you might still be down here!” Harry pushed his half-cleared plate away and hurried to make his escape. “Hi,” The Git said to him brightly-- then in a slightly annoyed huff at being rebuffed, “Bye,” as the wizarding world’s “Chosen-One” brushed past without acknowledging him.

The last thing Harry heard before the bowl-of-fruit portrait closed was, “Dust off your dancing shoes, Red! We’re going clubbing tonight!”

Harry felt stricken-- and then horribly guilty. He’d forgotten all about that bloke since he hadn’t seen him around lately. He’d done the exact same thing that Demelza had done to him! He was no better than her!

His first instinct was to flee and hide in shame (and nurse his sadness and loss in private).

As much as he wanted to be with Charlie, he really didn’t want to have to share again. He was also afraid that it would tear him apart to have it be so obvious that he was more attached to Charlie than the redhead was to him if they kept on doing…. sexy-gay-stuff.

But with a strong puff of breath through his nose (in which he may or may not have blown a bogie but absently wiped at his flaring nostrils anyway), he gave a brisk nod; he decided he had to know what he was up against.

The last time he left to avoid an emotional situation-- over what he thought was happening with his friends-- he’d been dead wrong about their reactions and tortured himself needlessly, concocting outlandish scenarios of the worst possible kinds. And if the news was bad, he could brace himself and not be blind-sided by it. He could then decide if it was worth the health and integrity of his heart to carry on and deepen the initial attraction or somehow (painfully) move past the first flurry of infatuation and love and leave it behind.

So, he slipped out the ‘Mischief Kit’ from his pocket-- that George insisted was essential to carry at all times-- and un-shrunk it. Shuffling through the various items, (successfully resisting the overwhelming urge to run in there and chuck a ‘Puking Pastille’ down the annoying man’s throat) he uncovered an ‘Extendable Ear’ from beneath a ‘Decoy Detonator’ and vial of ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’.

He tickled the pear and slid the end of the surveillance cord through the small crack.

The two men were too far away to make out much so he cast a quick ‘Sonorous’ on the earpiece and heard Fields obnoxiously whine, (reminding him strongly of Ginny) “But why would you want to stay here with all the stuffy staff at what can only be an old peoples’ party? Yawn! BORING! And soooooo vanilla! The scene for New Years is hopping— and hot! Do you know how many places are practically going to be all-out orgies?”

If Charlie answered, Harry didn’t catch it.

“Oh PLEASE! This is about Harry-Bleeding-Potter, isn’t it?” Again there was silence from the redhead.

“NICE! I left it be when you blew me off when he’d gone missing at Christmas because you were so focused on finding him— as well you should-- but now he’s back, obviously safe and sound. And you still don’t want to go out with me and have a good time?” The man sounded supremely frustrated; boot-heels clacked the floor in measured paces back-and-forth.

“I put up with you gushing over him constantly, got that you needed to talk about him. I even understood all the instances you called out his name when we were fucking. But seriously, are you going to pine away your whole life? Hung-up on a married guy?”

“You haven’t seen the paper then?” Charlie murmured. There was some shuffling and crinkling of parchment— and a long pause (presumably while the dark-haired man read the news).

“SO. He isn’t married to your sister any more. That automatically means you have a shot?” Fields scoffed. “It says right here, (there was some terse tapping of the pages) he’s on the market for another woman. Last I checked you were anything but.” Something must have shown on Charlie’s face, because again, he said nothing and Roger continued.

“Even on the outside chance he DOES enter into some bi-curious sexploration with you, he’s just a boy.” His voice dipped into concerned urgency. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high— or get hurt. You know eventually he’s going to find a witch his own age to settle down with and start a family. Being in the public eye, he’d never have his reputation tarnished by announcing an alternative lifestyle— and you shouldn’t have to be anyone’s dirty little secret!”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Charlie asserted. “He doesn’t care about his image in that way…. He has a really pure spirit and soul.”

“And I think you are just deluding yourself, buying into that heart-of-gold hero-shit.”

“It’s not a load of crap, Rog,” Charlie defended quietly. “He’s a beautiful person, how could I not have fallen for him? The more I’ve learnt these past several months only confirms it….” There was a lengthy pause until Charlie went on.

“You know with this now,” (a snapping sound of paper flapping was conveyed through the ‘Extendable Ear’) “it means we’re done. I mean, it was fun while it lasted, but I gotta see where this might go.”

(Harry heard a sharp intake of breath) “No— just listen. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. I have to try. And IF he only wants to take a brief romp on the other side and that’s all it is, then I’ll lick my wounds and go back to Romania and try to forget him. I’ll at least have had a small bit of his time and attention.”

“You sound like a besotted, pathetic schoolgirl, you know that? ‘Oh, I can change the brooding warrior!’” Fields teased in a bad falsetto, then turned serious again, more thoughtful and contemplative. “What happened to all your bravado about always keeping it casual and never getting tied down?” (the man gave a resigned snort) “Well, more power to you if you think you can seduce and charm him into trying the whole homo thing, ‘Oh-Mighty-Dragon-Tamer!’ You—”

“They are never TAME!” Charlie exclaimed vehemently in his usual knee-jerk response to that particular misnomer of a title before he could help it. “Never mind,” he sighed dismissively. “Just go and have a good time tonight. I’ll see you around….” (There was some rustling of clothes and what sounded like some pats on the back and then footsteps were coming towards the door.) “It really was nice hanging out with you, Rog….”

After a scuffle of shoes on the stone floor, the mason went on. “If it doesn’t happen for you with Harry,” (Fields’ voice was much louder-- obviously he was the one about to exit) “you know where to find me for a bit of fooling around. And hey, your youngest brother is pretty cute. Think he might want to give me a go? How serious is he about that brainy bint?”

“I think they’re pretty committed to each other,” Charlie sounded like he was choking back laughter. Harry had to hold in a snigger as well— Oh to be a fly on that wall (or under his Invisibility Cloak)! Ginny had been correct when she’d called Ron hopelessly straight; a proposition from a man just might make him turn the most spectacular shade of apoplectic puce yet.

“Yeah, well,” Roger replied blithely (and entirely overly self-confident), “perhaps he can be persuaded if we let the girl join us. Just so long as she doesn’t talk too much….”

Now, at the suggestion that his possessive brother share Hermione with another male, Charlie really did let out a barking guffaw (not unlike Sirius, Harry thought, his heart clenched in a dull ache). After the redhead’s laughter died down, he spluttered, “You! *gasp* Always DID know *hic* how to make me laugh.  Heh-heh-heh, good luck…. with that!”

The last thing Harry overheard as he was retracting the string was Fields — the increasing volume indicating he was getting closer— “And good luck to you, Chuckles. You’ll need it,” his voice much more sympathetic and caring than his earlier teasing and mocking. “I’ll miss you. Happy New Year.”

The eaves-dropping brunet barely had time to scramble into the closest alcove covered with a tapestry.

He furtively listened to the fading footfalls; first the one set in a light, mincing gait-- and then several minutes later-- the unmistakable sexy swagger of the dragon-handler. Harry waited well beyond the time he wouldn’t be seen and then left his musty sanctuary and headed back up to the Gryffindor tower.

~O~

When he arrived, Hermione and Luna were reading by the fire. Ron was annihilating Neville at Wizard’s Chess and Charlie was scribbling away at a piece of parchment. “There you are,” the elder Weasley looked up and beamed at him, “Thought you’d beat me back here.”

Harry looked at him curiously, wondering how he could be in such a good mood after having just broken up with his boyfriend. The two older wizards had parted on friendly terms, yes, but wouldn’t he have been a little more subdued? Charlie seemed downright giddy.

“Ah, erm…. went for a walk,” he replied, not meeting anyone’s eye. Ron’s knight smashed one of Neville’s rooks in a tinkling shatter. In an effort to excuse himself as nonchalantly as he could, he mumbled, “I, uh, have something to do upstairs….”

“I’ll join you once I’ve got this done for the Head of Concealment and Containment,” Charlie replied, waving the letter he was writing, calling after the brunet ascending the stairs. Although it was tempered by his enthusiasm of the topic, the Animal-care-Specialist was a little irritated that Hermione was immediately barraging him with questions-- it would only mean he had to wait longer to get to their room:

“So the dragon, they won’t move it? It’ll stay in the Forrest, then? What wards can you do to keep it from the school and Hogsmeade? Will you be in charge? What if the Gringott’s Goblins want it back? Hagrid— and probably Grawp, as well— will be thrilled, but the Centaurs won’t be too pleased…. Well, maybe they WILL be if their territory is sealed against the creature’s threat and harm….”

Harry smirked on the stairwell where he’d paused to listen; Hermione’s super-brain was always going a mile a minute! (At least SOME things never changed!)

And, channeling her voracious appetite for knowledge and romance of the written word, he entered the bedroom, intent on finding out what more the sex encyclopedia could teach him. From the way Charlie had been talking to Roger, it clearly sounded like he’d want to continue on from where they’d started— and Harry wanted that, he really did— but he also didn’t want to make a fool of himself in the process!

After looking for the book and not finding it, he gave up and shot an ‘Accio’ around the room. The heavy tome came hurtling at him out from under his jumper that had been thrown into the corner last night; he smiled when he saw how wide and far-flung their clothes had been tossed in the throes of passion.

Sitting on his bed and kicking off his shoes, he opened up the section on ‘Homosexuality: Male’.

The text wasn’t much more than a list of terms and definitions. It was not very helpful in the way of explaining how to perform the techniques but offered a little enlightenment, outlining the extent and variety of different sexual acts and positions two men got up to during same-sex foreplay and intercourse.

Some were very straight-forward that he had heard of (and, very happily, recently experienced!). Then, there were several activities that just appeared really bizarre and extreme to Harry-- that he never would have conceived of in a million years-- like “docking” and “sounding”, to name a few. Still, others were intriguing but left him squirming in both interest in mild anxiety.

For example-- and it seemed very important as it was first in foremost in the opening paragraphs-- that there was some internal, walnut-sized gland called a “prostate”:

By its description, it was a localized bundle of nerves that was most readily accessed from within the rectum and to a lesser extent, externally through the “perineum” (ah, another new word for a piece of his anatomy that he hadn’t had a name for!). It was a button of concentrated sensation when stimulated; Harry thought it appeared to be analogous to a clitoris in women. It was also a key element of ejaculation.

(He was a bit stymied by the schematic diagram of the male reproductive system and the explanation of the mechanics of arousal and climax. It looked complicated. He skipped over that part rather quickly, feeling that all he really needed to know about it was that he was a big fan of orgasms when they happened.)

Plus, later on, the reference manual stated some interesting things that weren’t gender specific but intriguing none-the-less (though he ignored the footnotes indicating the page numbers where they were mentioned in regards to heterosexual or gay female sex).

A specific item caught his eye; a device of nipple clamps-- complete with picture:

Harry was drawn to the two clips with little metal teeth, affixed to the hardened nubs on the pecs of a fit, obviously male chest and the repetitive image displaying tugs— via a broad, hairy hand-- to a chain hanging betwixt and connecting them. (As the sharp pulling pressure was applied, the sensual twitching of the wiry frame they were attached to made him shiver and fill his penis with a buzzing tension.)

Also, contemplating the oral endeavor of “analingus” sent tingly jolts and quivering clenches to his pucker. What would it be like to receive that treatment? He let his mind imagine the wet heat of a squithery tongue there. His brain rebelled a bit on logic and principle, but his body seemed to have other ideas as his impossibly stiff prick spit a little in his skivvies.

Did Charlie do that? Could he, himself, do that? And as he fantasized about giving that pleasure, he realized he could, GLADLY— as long as it was the man he admired and that particular area was clean. (It’s just SKIN, he thought, isn’t it? After all, it won’t be producing and oozing a foul-tasting mucous like a vagina!)

He was starting to squeeze his tumescence through his denims when the wizard he’d been thinking about in new and lewd ways entered the room; the redhead sniggered when he saw what Harry was reading.

“Learn anything new and interesting today?” Charlie asked with waggling eyebrows and a jovial, randy grin as he flopped down on the bed at Harry’s socked feet and started to massage them.

Harry swallowed hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat; he felt horribly guilty! He had selfishly betrayed the one person that had treated him with nothing but kindness. He’d listened in on a private conversation for his own personal gain. Charlie deserved so much better….

“I spied on you!” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “With The Gi— Fields, I mean,” he cried out in confession.

The book that had been covering the lump in his trousers was thrown away in anguish now that it was no longer needed to conceal the bulge (he’d gone completely limp the second the realization hit that he’d been a horrible friend). He drew up his legs and hugged them, his forehead dropped to his knees unable to look at the moue of disappointment— that he knew just HAD to be there-- on those handsome rugged features that usually looked at him with such unconditional acceptance.

The hands on his feet stilled. The silence stretched.

Finally, Harry couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you angry? Say something! Yell at me! Storm out…. Something!”

“I— I’m not upset…. After all, we listened in on you….” (he waved away Harry’s protests of ‘that was planned!’, even though the cringing brunet couldn’t see the gesture) “I know you needed to know what was going on. Actually, I’m glad you did.” He clutched and rubbed his calves. “I was coming up here to tell you about that conversation, but you’ll understand things better this way.”

Harry head snapped up to assess the sincerity of his statement; he was telling the truth about his forgiveness. But there was still a cloudiness, some troubled tense lines around his eyes as Charlie murmured, “I’m just sorry you had to hear his rather ignorant view of you.”

Harry shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, I’m used to that…. I’m sorry if you felt you had to split up with your boyfriend because of the…. Stuff…. we did. I didn’t mean for that to happen to you…. “

Charlie threw back his head in laughter (not the least of which being Harry so innocently referring to their recent mind-blowing wild-monkey-sex as ‘stuff’). “Roger and I were never a couple! There was nothing to “break up” since we were never exclusive. He was only an occasional hook-up when we both wanted to get our rocks off— I just told him today that I wasn’t going to be available for that casual crap anymore.”

“I kinda wished….” Harry admitted quietly, still trying to look anywhere but at the man in front of him; he wanted Charlie’s attention all to himself and the thought of him wanting and touching that other man was driving him insane with the boiling emotion of envy.

He was shocked when the realization hit him with such blinding clarity! (Wow, I really AM pants at introspection and self-analysis!)

“I never understood why I had such an instant, intense irrational dislike of the guy!” he spouted out before he could attempt to censor his thoughts. “I didn’t even know him. For all these months I justified it as not liking that he took away the time we would have been hanging out. But now I can see I was jealous!”

Charlie chuckled and smoothed a soothing hand over that tense shoulder and down his arm. “Well then, I’m flattered,” he cooed, settling on entwining their fingers when he reached the end of the reluctant limb and bouncing the manual embrace close to his lap. “Harry, you have to know, I was only ever with him because I couldn’t be with you. Didn’t you notice that he very superficially, visually resembled you?”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “So you like scrawny, black-haired prats then, is that it?” Both wanting to withdraw his hand and keep it there…..

“No, I like YOU…. and after the wedding, I thought I’d lost you forever. Having Roger around was a distraction I needed. It killed me knowing you were taken-- and by my sister, no less. He was quite aware of that from the beginning. He had no illusions that he was just a substitute— and not to sound arrogant, but I don’t think he minded as long as he got a bit of fun out of it.”

“Did you really call out my name when you were having sex?” Harry softly snickered, a reluctant smile playing about his lips. He felt a bit chuffed from hearing that tidbit out of the mason’s own mouth.

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted a bit sheepishly, running a hand through his auburn curls and scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to. It IS pretty rude and bad form, but the moments leading up to climax sometimes act like a truth serum.” He rolled his shoulders as if shrugging off his bad behaviour. “If Roger really cared about that and was hurt by it, he would have called a stop to things himself, not kept coming back for more.”

“He said you talked about me…. what did you tell him?”

“Nothing private or specific…. I just had a hard time not mentioning how amazing I found you, especially when something would happen between us and I learned more about how unique and incredible you are. Trust me, I would never betray a confidence or share your personal business with anyone.”

“Thanks….” He believed Charlie implicitly (especially since no secrets—well, not real ones anyway-- only speculated drivel had been reported in the media). It actually sounded a lot like him to be so considerate.

“I think that was probably why he accused me of shallow hero-worship….” Charlie was still going on. “He never heard exactly what makes you so awesome.” Harry shook his head.

“NO! I don’t just mean the feats you’ve accomplished, but how you have handled adversity and hardship and come out the other end such a sweet and giving soul. You didn’t let it sour you, it only made you stronger and more generous.” He didn’t let up with his petting of Harry’s arms— and now legs. “I know you don’t see it, but you are such a beautiful person! And that’s part of it! Anyone else would have become jaded, or bitter, or calloused or narcissistic— but not you….”

“So,” Harry interjected, “then why didn’t you tell him about us? What we’d gotten up to if you weren’t hiding that we’d been cheating? You made it sound like you were going to start to try….” The brunet finally (tremulously) voiced the insecurities that had been plaguing him since he’d overheard the conversation between Charlie and his boy-toy. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not!” (Charlie’s strong grasp shook his shoulders and actually rattled his teeth.) Harry made a little ‘meep’ noise at his sudden vehemence.

“I’d shout it from the rooftops if it was up to me…. but it’s not my place to say anything!”

The redhead’s right hand gripped his jaw while the left tangled in the tresses at the back of his head and forced their eyes to meet. “It is entirely your choice what you want people to know. Coming out is a big deal! You just dissolved your marriage! I don’t want anyone thinking that the reason for it was because anything untoward had been going on, that you’d done something wrong during it, or that the split was in any way your fault!”

OH.

That actually made a lot of sense.

Charlie was always looking out for him like that (and Harry loved him all the more for it). Trust him to place and protect his best interests and well-being before his own! Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall one time— in all the years he’d known Ginny— that she ever had done that.

He nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Char, you’re too good to me,” he nuzzled his forehead against the older wizard’s. “Your sister never cared to do anything like that…. Considering my feelings first….”

“It’s nothing more than you deserve,” Charlie murmured, brushing his lips over Harry’s eyebrows. “In a way, I’m glad she didn’t.” He immediately felt the scrunch of muscles and hair bunch and tense under his ministrations and hurried to correct that notion. “Not that I ever wanted you to suffer in any way, no! But if she had been just a bit more attentive and a little less selfish, I wouldn’t get to be here with you like this.”

He was whispering the reverent words as he pressed barely-there pecks and nibbles along the brunet’s cheekbones and chin that were making them both tremble with desire. Harry moaned (actually moaned-- just from a kiss!) when Charlie’s worshiping mouth finally homed in and made contact with his own. In a tantalizing tickle from the center of a bristly goatee, his delicately dancing tongue was so delectable and titillating!

This was different.

So far they had always been fast and furious, unconstrained, out of control.

But this….

THIS was soft and sweet, just a tender rubbing of lips— and deliberate in its precision.

It was like they wanted to communicate an ocean of emotion with the other with just a brief touch. The split-second memory Harry had of his previous encounters with girls and slow snogging, they paled in comparison. In fact, nothing he’d ever experienced even came CLOSE to what it felt like to be treated with such compassion (and quiet, simmering passion that— judging by the roiling in his groin-- could only lead to coming!)

They continued in unhurried exploration, hands roaming and mapping out every muscle and contour— all while sensually sharing breath and spit, combining elements of themselves in a most intimate way.

Leisurely, clothes were removed, and the tactile sensations were heightened as they laid each other bare (in more ways than one); the feel of skin on skin was sublime and the connections they forged between their souls with each cherishing caress made the timeless moments all-the-more profound.

Harry was drowning in bliss. It was hot and humid, sultry and steamy. Every movement the two of them made, no matter how simple, was incredibly sexy. He couldn’t imagine he would be able to get any more aroused!

It still blew his mind how beautifully such basic-- rather tame-- acts had him so close to orgasm (and they hadn’t even begun any serious stimulation to their engorged organs!); when doing the same things with Ginny (even getting as far as having his prick buried balls deep in her vagina), had caused him the need to fantasize as he struggled to keep turgid. He didn’t need anything other than Charlie and he was there.

It was with a scintillating thrill-- which gave him goose-bumps-- to know that now that he had found it, he could have this perfect pleasure for the rest of his life (if he played his cards right and got the redhead to agree to stay with him).

“Do you want me?” Charlie pleaded, breath ragged with need, sapphire eyes all-but begging. Harry nodded fervently, gulping on a few clumsily drawn breaths. “Fuck me, Harry. I need to feel you inside me…. Pleeeeeease!”

What?! (His lungs stuttered and hitched)

“Um….” Harry uttered, sealing his cluelessness with his hesitation. He winced, but hurried to explain when he saw the redhead’s face fall. “I do! I just thought…. “ (Shit! He was fucking this up!) “you would be on the top.”

Charlie’s brow wrinkled. “Well, I suppose I could ride you, but from what you’ve told me, it seems you’ve had quite enough of that…. I want your first time with a man to be under your control, be able move with your own volition…. Just use me, take me-- let your instincts rule.”

Harry’s mind was reeling, trying to wrap around what Charlie was saying. “I just meant that you are older, and bigger than me…. You’re more ‘manly’….. Doesn’t that mean that you are the dominant one and would be screwing into me?”

(NOW his odd phrasing made sense!) Charlie would have laughed in relief if it wouldn’t have been taken in the wrong way.

“No, Cuteness. That’s not necessarily how it goes…. And for the record, I like both topping and bottoming-- meaning being the ‘screwER’ AND the ‘screwEE’ on various occasions-- and in all manner of positions as well. So when you said “on THE top” that meant that you would be inside of me but I would be on top of you….”

Harry burrowed his reddened face in the crook of Charlie’s neck. He was soooo embarrassed at how stupid he was! How could someone as knowledgeable and experienced want to deal with his ineptitude?! (He vaguely flashed on Snape’s silky voice when his derisive internal monologue had supplied his brain with using the word ‘ineptitude’ to describe his current predicament.)

He REALLY hoped he could somehow keep the man from getting bored and leaving before he could learn and get more practice, at least enough to maintain his interest for a while!

On the up-side, this little tutorial and show of his ignorance served to cool his ardor— he was still hard, but nowhere near about to blow his load as he’d been minutes before. And then his cock twitched when the realization set in that he would be the one doing the fucking! His stomach swooped in equal amounts of anticipation and trepidation.

“I’m not sure I’ll be any good at it-- Lord knows, Ginny didn’t think so,” Harry admitted, ignoring the flash of anger that crossed Charlie’s features, and then warned him, “I can’t promise anything.” He looked up shyly, adding, “But I’d like to try.”

Charlie’s blue eyes sparkled as he brushed the brunet’s damp fringe from his forehead and held his gaze. “You’ll be brilliant. All you have to do is whatever feels good and I will love it.” Harry didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked downright doubtful. “I swear. Your pleasure IS my pleasure and just thinking of you getting off turns me on so much I can barely keep myself from climaxing instantly.”

Harry fidgeted a little, “Will you…. tell me…. if I’m doing it wrong?” He barely suppressed a cringe at how creaky the cadence of his request sounded.

“Sweetness, there really is no right and wrong when it comes to this kind of thing,” Charlie replied in that smooth, suave-as-honey tone that made his knees weak. Harry made a ‘tch’ sound of disbelief in his throat. “I know what Ginny made you believe,” the older wizard continued, “but from what I’ve seen from your style so far, I really like it,” he explained as he gently traced a finger around Harry’s frown of uncertainty.

“How about this? I’ll tell you if I want more or less of anything you’re doing, Ok?” Charlie suggested, hoping to encourage and reassure his reluctant lover; his heart melted at the adorable tiny smile that graced Harry’s lips as he silently nodded his assent.

Just as the brunet started to get nervous again, he was bolstered by the wide, easy and eager grin Charlie gave him; he took a deep breath as his lover scrambled for his wand and tried to absorb some of that seemingly-effortless confidence he exuded (and remind himself that the man had just demonstrated such unfathomable patience and acceptance despite his insecurities).

His black eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as Charlie swiped his wand over his stubbled bits and said an incantation he didn’t recognize; the elder Weasley noticed the brunet’s look of consternation and laughed, “Don’t want to prickle you or give you rug-burn.” Harry ran the pads of his fingers over the newly-smooth skin. Charlie hissed a whistle in through clenched teeth as his whole body jolted from the innocent touch.

Harry recoiled in shock that he may have caused the other man pain and opened his mouth to apologize when the dragon-handler shook his head, “Just really close, don’t want to fire off too soon…. Lemme do the prep by magic, I can’t wait much longer. We can draw things out manually another time.”

Green eyes bugged out when those orange-furred thighs spread apart and the Elder-and-DragonVein wand disappeared under his bald balls and between his cheeks, digging into the pliant point of give; Harry’s hard-on dribbled a little clear fluid when he saw the tip slightly penetrate the wrinkled whorl and Charlie grunted as his charms (what sounded like three distinct spells) took effect.

Charlie paused a moment, his eyelids fluttering and then kissed Harry deeply. “I want you so much…. You have no idea. Just remember, do whatever comes naturally to you and just let go….” He turned his back and got onto his knees and clutched the headboard; “Ready?” he shot over his shoulder, with an impish gleam glittering in his eyes. He poked a finger into his pucker and spread some of the lubrication around his anus before returning to brace his grip on the wooden frame again.

He shivered at the first tentative touches to his rear-end, focused on his buttocks, especially the groove on the side. The anticipation was killing him; he bent over a little more, widening his kneeling stance, effectively spreading his buns to better expose his butthole. He wiggled his ass, studying the glazed look Harry was currently giving his body.

He’d picked this position for Harry’s first time because it was the easiest for penetration with the least awkward fumbling of limbs and distribution of weight-- and leaving Harry’s hands free to roam where they wanted (while also allowing the bottom the most range of motion to angle correctly in order to get direct contact to their own prostate so the newbie didn’t have to worry about finding it).

But he soon realized he wanted to be able to watch every expression on his lover’s face and he would get a crick in his neck if he kept his head turned the whole time. (Which was weird for him-- he’d never cared about whether or not he maintained eye-contact; for some reason it was really important to him this time.)

While Harry was gathering his courage, Charlie conjured a mirror and affixed it with a Sticking charm to the wall above the bed. The smile from Harry-- a mixture of equal parts of anxiety and gratitude-- that was reflected back at him was like an ambrosia for his heart. And as impatient as he was for the brunet to plunge into him, he was glad for the reprieve that let his ardor cool a bit.

The massage to his muscles slowly turned into a less-than-dexterous exploration of trembling digits up and down along his crack and then some clumsy prods to his pucker. “Fuck me, Harry….” He whined.

Harry wasn’t sure if he would fit. It looked really small and tight. At Charlie’s writhing and begging “Pleeeeease,” he manually aligned the sticky head of his cock at the dusky, glistening, winking dimple.

He pushed forward and the first breach into the constrictive wet heat was Heavenly! There was a strangled squeal (Harry wasn’t exactly sure who it had come from) as his erection was swallowed by that slick compressing ring— and then devoured as the redhead greedily shoved back against his pelvis, slamming them both sac to sac.

Harry was left with an epic struggle to keep a hold on the climax that threatened to burst forth from that sudden exquisite friction. He had to stay perfectly still for several seconds if he was to be successful and grabbed those tantalizing hips so that they couldn’t unexpectedly stimulate him further.

He panted heavily, resting his forehead in between the dragon-handler’s shoulder-blades, willing his arousal to reduce to a simmer. Charlie was gasping as well, feeling overwhelmed at finally being joined this way; he had to quickly pinch the base of his penis to stave off a potentially embarrassing premature ejaculation.

“Don’t move, don’t move….” Harry chanted, whispering under his breath.

At the desperation and desire in Harry’s tone, Charlie couldn’t help the involuntary clench of his inner-muscles, testing the sensation of the throbbing length within him. He was rewarded for this action by Harry wordlessly screeching and swatting him on the ass; he was punished the next second for breaking the brunet’s tenuous grasp on his control, having inadvertently pulled pulse after pulse of his lover’s release out of his balls.

“Fuck… fuck! Sorry!” Harry whimpered, twitching and jerking through the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Just give me a minute,” he groaned and flexed his super-sensitized shaft. Charlie was flattered to have elicited such an intense reaction, but a little disappointed they hadn’t come together-- until he noticed Harry was still completely hard. (Oh, having an eighteen-year-old lover with such a strong libido was a wonderful thing!)

After a period of recovery (for both of them), Harry’s fingertips started questing over the contours of older wizard’s body, cataloguing the quivering muscles and taut tendons; Charlie was now able to safely let go of his self-imposed manual cock-ring and fully brace himself on the headboard again.

The redhead studied Harry’s look of slack-jawed concentration and awe in the mirror as he explored the freckled, creamy skin, apparently admiring his visual and tactile treat. The pressure of his pads increased until he was rubbing and massaging rather deeply, combined with random pinching of his nipples and plucking the hair surrounding them and on his belly.

Charlie’s chin dropped to his chest when the shallow thrusting began; he could feel the warm gusts of his heavy exhalations wash over the head of his own weeping prick, causing a contrasting, feverish heat-and-chill sensation on the moisture leaking there.

Soon, Harry’s hips were picking up in pace and depth; Charlie shifted his own to ensure the tip of the cock fucking him rubbed over his sweet spot on every stroke. Each prod to his prostate made a moan escape his lips or sweet, grunted nonsense words of encouragement like: “Fuck yes, Harry!”, “That’s it, right there!”, “Bloody Hell!  Sooooo good!”

This seemed to spur Harry into slipping into a more animalistic frenzy of pulling and shoving anywhere his frantic sweaty palms and raking claws could reach— and roughly plowed into him with abandon. The sexy mantra of “Yeah, yeah, yeah….” was wrenched from Charlie’s throat as each pounding of the brunet’s pelvis raggedly forced the air out of his lungs.

The squelching sound of Harry’s jizz combined with the lube churning in his insides and dribbling out his hole was both disgusting and delicious at the same time.

He was overloaded with sensations of pleasure (and the slight pain of being scratched and squeezed by Harry’s now completely uninhibited hands). It was beautiful. It was perfect. This was EXACTLY what he had wanted!

Charlie was surprised when a demanding fist closed in the curls at the back of his head and forcibly yanked, snapping his neck back. “I want to see your face!” Harry growled, sending a shiver down the dragon-handler’s spine; the usually calm and somewhat meek (when it came to sexual experience) younger wizard was now wild and controlled at the same time, unleashed yet commanding.

The growing confidence he was helping instill in Harry acted like an aphrodisiac for Charlie and as their eyes locked in the reflective glass he’d conjured for exactly this purpose. They both groaned, long and low. His dark-shot gaze, surrounded by a thin ring of sapphire, drowned in the feral look in Harry’s eyes; the Avada-green glowing, nearly eclipsed by his equally dilated pupils.

Charlie had a split-second while Harry stilled before he pulled back and returned, slamming in to the hilt. His lids wanted to flutter closed at the ecstasy flooding his senses but he was mesmerized by that determined clenched jaw and the teeth bared in a challenging sneer, eyes boring into his, silently daring him to look away first.

He didn’t though. He didn’t want to miss any part of them discovering this side of Harry together.

Harry reared and bucked, causing a hoarse shout out of Charlie— and the loud clattering scrape of the front posts of the bed against stone.

(It made him grateful that only the corners of the frame came in contact with the bricks, the roundness of the Tower leaving a small concave curve in the center of the headboard-- he spared a moment of sympathy for those poor sods in Slytherin with their flat, square dungeon-cell walls that could never utilize and enjoy this exact position without smashing their fingers to a bloody pulp.)

And then Harry was humping into him in a brutally fast rhythm, bashing into his insides and battering the bed against the wall; their moans and wheezing breaths sounded in symphony with the echoing clack of wood splintering on rock. The brunet was staring the older wizard down when his arms settled, one in a bruising grip on his hip, the other wrapped around his ribs and his fingers dug into his right pec, crushing the hardened nub underneath (his nails slicing skin, possibly drawing blood).

The sheer possessiveness of his stance and countenance actually made the man who faced dragons for a living shiver through his sweat; it was almost scary in its intensity. Charlie had no doubt the raw magic of the man-- who had the courage and mettle to face the worst horrors in the world— would easily destroy anyone who tried to harm him now. There was no question that he was now claimed as Harry’s, and Harry’s alone.

The typically stoic wizard had incredible wells of power hidden under the surface…. Still waters did, indeed, run deep in this case.

Never breaking eye contact, Harry sunk his teeth into the strained cords of the juncture between the redhead’s neck and shoulder; Charlie quickly clamped his hand on the back of the brunet’s neck and screamed “Harry!!”, reaching his release untouched (rendering the pillow below a soggy mess). Through the crippling, blinding euphoria churning through every atom in his body, he felt the tell-tale twitches of a cock spurting into the recesses of his rectum.

Harry wasn’t sure quite how they resolved themselves (and managed not to fall face first into the spooj-stained pillow) but when he regained coherent cognition again, they were lying down, entwined like they usually did when they slept together, gulping in great lung-fulls of oxygen and tiredly petting each other with the last, dwindling reserves of energy they had.

“Fuck,” Charlie’s chest rumbled under his ear, “That was…. No words…. You were amazing….”

Harry drew a shaky breath to reply when a vaporous, rambunctious silver Jack Russell Terrier bounded into their steamy (reeking-of-MALE-sex) chamber. It yipped a couple times to announce its presence and chased its tail once before Ron’s voice called out:

“Oi! You prats ever heard of Silencing charms? Congratulations by the way….. But EW!!  Haha! Anyway, Herms says it’s time to start getting ready. We’re all going for pre-dinner drinks in town at ‘3-Sticks’ before the party….”

~O~

A/N: Ok, turns out I totally lied. There is a third part to this one…. It just kept getting longer and I’d hate to make anyone who is following this fic wait until I can finish writing it all. I’m lucky that my jobs allow me a lot of time to think and get ideas…. But not so much blessed with getting the chance to type in a timely manner (also, my furry holiday boarders are insisting on being petted and played with all the time— and hopeful puppy-dog eyes are a huge weakness for me).

So, don’t shoot me! I’m just hoping to appease my readers with at least another bit of story until then….

Also worth it to mention:

Since there is no canon wand description for Charlie after Harry Potter Wiki shows that the wand Ron broke his second year was Ash, 12” and Unicorn hair and used to be Charlie’s-- I went by JKR’s official site [under “other stuff/miscellaneous”] where I remembered she outlines (and used) the Celtic system of associating certain trees with sections of the calendar year. Most characters have wands made from the wood that corresponds to their birthday-- and since Charlie’s date of birth is December 12^th, he would have ‘Elder’ choose him-- and of course-- I had to give him a dragon core, more appropriate to his new job after graduation in 1991 (just in time to give the old one to Ron for his first year).

HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE EVERYONE!
- 12
- 13
- 14
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WONKY CROSS