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
- 14
- 15
- 16
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and reviews! I seriously can’t tell you how addicted to them I am! (I’m such an “any kind of response” junkie!)

I swear, you guys must be hacked into my computer or getting my brain-waves: You are so perceptive for the things I think that I’ve barely fore-shadowed but will make total tie-in sense later on. You’re all awesome!

Flare, you are continuously coming up with VERY insightful things to comment on…. That have been planned out to answer in later chapters! I love it! :)

Jujukitty: I’m totally with you on them declaring their love while shouting at each other….. I just felt like emotional sappiness has been done enough in fanfic (myself included) and wanted to go in that exasperating ‘BOYS!’ direction this time….

And sorry again for the long wait— I had a few slow months in the fall where I was able to write to my heart’s content, but things have been crazy and continued to get even more busy, which had not been anticipated. Great for money, since I make nothing off writing fanfic-- but bad for my own satisfaction of getting to type and post. Just hope you guys stick with this as we get to more of the good stuff.

~O~

CRYSTAL-CLEAR, PART ONE

Harry was in shock, thoughts reeling from the recent revelations they’d both exposed. (‘The cat’s among the pixies now!’, resounded in his brain, oddly recalling Ms. Figg’s turn of phrase for mayhem unleashed after the Dementor attack the summer before his fifth year.)

He opened his mouth, but then silently shook his head. He didn’t want to hear some list of his so-called virtues; it made him uncomfortable to listen to people trying to convince him of having admirable qualities. In his mind, his early training at the hands of the Dursleys always negated anything nice anyone said anyway.

There WAS one test— if his and Hermione’s theory was correct— to see if Charlie was really sincere….

“Expecto Patronum!” the brunet bellowed, filled with the fresh hope and glee he’d felt swoop in his stomach when Charlie emphatically insisted that he had fallen in love with him. The dazzling vapor spilled forth from the (miraculously mended) holly-made tip and coalesced into his trademark stag-- bigger and brighter than ever before.

With misty eyes bulging, nostrils flaring and its rib-cage heaving, the majestic Cervine menacingly scraped the floor with a hoof. It slowly lowered his impressive rack, as if in a direct dare to Harry to disagree; the daunting deer looked ready to bash its true master over the head with the knowledge if the green-eyed man didn’t believe it by now.

Suddenly, the imposing form burst into a flurry of action and charged, colliding with younger wizard’s chest and then submerged under his skin, infusing it with an eerie white-blue glow. Harry flinched and flailed in convulsions.

Charlie was horrified! (And may or may not have screamed like a little girl in abject terror).

The few seconds that the baffling, mysterious magical fit lasted seemed to stretch indefinitely-- at least to his perception-- until Harry’s body finally slumped and stilled. Thankfully, the beleaguered brunet was still breathing— albeit dangerously heavily— but his eyes were squeezed tightly shut and jaw slack.

Harry was drowning in bliss, tangled in exhilarating ribbons of euphoria.

He was experiencing the existential, ecstatic— electrically charged-- last piece of a puzzle clicking into place in his soul. He became whole. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of finally coming Home, of total well-being…. The closest he could possibly describe it was ‘a spiritual orgasm’.

“Talk to me! Wake up!” the redhead screeched, jostling Harry’s shoulders and searching the young man’s face for further illness.

“You’re scaring the shit out of me!” Charlie was oblivious to how high-pitched and squealing his normally deep, suave voice sounded at the moment; it was much more important to brush that sweaty, black fringe away from the famously-scarred forehead and make sure his beloved wasn’t in urgent need of medical help.

“Are you all right?!”

Green-eyes blinked languidly open and met Charlie’s frantic, pleading, sapphire stare.

“Never better,” he managed to whisper hoarsely as his lids fluttered, mentally chasing the last vestiges of the profound experience coursing through every synapse and molecule. He had to touch the coarse hairs of his groin-- with a heavy hand-- just to make sure the area was dry (even though the culmination of wonderful feelings was centered in his heart and head rather than physically sexual).

“That was incredible.” Harry thought that any other explanation he might attempt in mere human language would sound woefully inadequate. Then he groaned in an afterthought as he came back to wakeful coherence; he ground the heels of his hands in his eye-sockets. “Hermy’s gonna kill me she didn’t witness this.”

“Huh?” the dragon-handler questioned thickly, feeling hopelessly dim and stuck in the most dark mire ever, still coping from being blind-sided with the sudden and contradictory amalgam of being stymied, shocked, terrified, and then tentatively relieved and amazed to ragingly jealous within the space of a minute.

What did that witch have to do with any of his lover’s current incapacitation? He imploded with the split-second frenzy: Why was she on his mind? He just told the man he loved him! He’d never said that to anyone before!!

“I got my form back,” Harry relayed in breathless wonder, staring up into the canopy with unseeing eyes, basking in this moment of crystal-clear clarity; any angst, doubt or insecurity he ever had regarding Charlie was gone. “I know you love me. I have absolute proof now.” He smiled and turned to his soul-mate. Locking his eyes with the redhead, he purred in a commanding tone, “Cast yours.”

Charlie was bewildered and apprehensive-- but complied without hesitation. He trusted Harry’s care and kindness implicitly. (Plus, the man he loved seemed just fine now after that harrowing ordeal.)

He waved his wand and the ghostly grizzly appeared, almost as large as when Harry conjured it-- and now its shaggy outline was sharp and defined. The huge Ursine took a brief beat of a “stare down” and then tackled the bulky, body-art adorned man. It grappled and groped, and then captured him in a large bear-hug before the big man could twitch a muscle in resistance.

The Patronus wrestled its way into him— sinking, blending, melding-- combining the external and internal positive life-forces within the stocky tattooed man.

If Harry hadn’t have just experienced the wonderful feelings of becoming complete he would have been beyond frightened as well; it looked really scary.

The moment the Light aspect of pure Love’s antennae took the risk of reaching out to what had been tinged and tainted with the sting of (apparently sometimes only imagined) rejection or rebuff, there was a colossal-calm and swelling of emotion that resulted in a sense of being one with the Universe, of safely belonging to another soul.

No wonder Dementor’s were repelled by such true, undiluted Goodness!

If they were the embodiment of soul-sucking evil, it made sense. How could a rotten shell of a creature stand to have such Light energy near it, much less touch it! Or take it into its body? (Come to think of it, he’d never heard or seen any instance that the manifestation of that spell had ever come in contact with a physical being, body, mind OR especially, magical core— human or otherwise!)

Charlie was illuminated in raw magical energy, glowing and rigid, powerless under its influence— it was hard to tell if the writhing and grimacing was due to pleasure or pain-- and unless he hadn’t just known such sweet delirium, he might think the brief possession was torturous.

“Whoa!” Charlie panted and blinked through the peace pervading every pore; his vision cleared and landed on Harry’s fondly-amused smiling face. The redhead whimpered in awe, “You love me.”

They both felt completely fulfilled.

It was amazing. They were wholly themselves but also in in connection to each other. Exhausted from their recent activities and magical experiences, they drifted off for quick kip, wrapped securely and lovingly in each other’s warm embrace.

No more words were needed.

~O~

They had every intention of going to grab pre-party drinks with the others in town, but Hermione was right. (Yet again.) (Of course.) They were, indeed, getting side-tracked at every turn:

They awoke later-- groggy with tousled hair-- after darkness had fallen; a quick Tempus told them they’d have to scramble to get washed and dressed by the time everyone wanted to leave. A few affectionate smooches turned into a long, languid snogging session that made it difficult to extricate their limbs from each other and get their asses out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Charlie finally managed to lure Harry from their rumpled sheets and into the shower by pulling him by his throbbing erection and the promises of “more”.

Harry didn’t think he had ever been cleaner in his life.

The redhead took his time to bathe the brunet’s body, bestowing his wiry form with reverent and worshipful touches.

He applied his careful attention to detail and all the special skills he’d gained from working from his hands; the dragon-handler’s impeccable instincts at non-verbal communication and caregiving were employed extremely effectively and thoroughly. Harry writhed under the expert motions of those square, calloused palms and strong digits massaging his muscles and slicking him up with suds.

After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time of Charlie sliding and teasing while he washed Harry’s dark, hairy cleft and circled his sphincter, the brunet found himself holding his breath, wondering with each pass-over and swirl, if his virginal butt-hole was going to be breached. It had him teetering on the edge of anticipation and trepidation, vacillating wildly between eagerness and anxiety.

It was such an exquisite and intimate torture as he battled with his own control not to grab his throbbing tumescence to take care of his own need while Charlie focused on every millimeter of skin while ignoring the one spot that needed the most attention. Finally, when he thought he couldn’t take the suspense anymore, his bits were soaped up, scrubbed (and pubes pulled to the brink of pain), gently patted and rinsed-- and then had the semen wrung out of his balls and sprayed out of his shaft by Charlie’s firmly clenched fists.

When he was able, the jelly-legged brunet returned the favour. He was beginning to see the appeal of having carte-blanche over being able to touch and caress anywhere he wanted on the body that had become the most attractive, alluring thing to him in the entire world.

His intrigued penis remained at half-mast while they murmured back and forth every time Harry discovered and asked about each scar and tattoo. Harry could have listened to that breathy, ‘forced-into-focus-while-enduring-blinding-pleasure’ voice forever….. (it mesmerized him, hearing the love and acceptance and want of him— it made him know their feelings were truly genuine.)

He found it incredibly erotic to trace his tongue across each involuntarily-obtained piece of marred flesh and voluntarily-inked picture that allowed him into insight to his lover’s life story:

Charlie gave a full-bodied twitch as Harry licked a stripe along the deep, smooth groove of the talon-scratch on his right hip he got his first year on the Preserve….

The brunet’s uncontrollable nip to the vibrant image of the Vipertooth-- with its coppery colouring and contrasting black plate-ridges-- on his left shoulder-blade made him shudder….

Nails digging into the outline of the Horntail on the redhead’s left pec and tongue laving the artistically-placed scales had his knees knocking together….

His eyes rolled back when Harry’s jaw latched onto the burn mark the Hebridean hatchling scorched into his forearm…. (And then that pouty, pink mouth sucked the skin as if to take the essence of his being into his very soul.)

The dream of taking it slow ended when Harry ran his trembling fingers over that wrinkled whorl that had given him so much pleasure previously; at the muscled man’s squirming and begging, he impetuously reached around and clutched the dragon-handler’s balls roughly in one hand squeezing and tugging at the same time— just the way he liked, and the man had just done to him. He stroked the hardened shaft of Charlie’s manhood (while pressing his re-awakened and interested cock into his ass-crack).

As he bit down on the body-art on his neck displaying the Ancient Rune that roughly translated into ‘strength of character’, Charlie scream-grunted as he sprayed the tile in front of him. (Harry felt bad a bit later, when he realized he’d slammed his lover’s shoulder and forehead into the shower tiles-- being such a brute in the heat of the moment-- but was later assured it was fine and they rinsed and finished up among murmurs of love and sweet words of appreciation.)

~O~

Charlie couldn’t take his eyes off the tempting tableau Harry made as he bent over the trunk at the end of his bed, searching for something to wear. His ass was utterly delectable. The sight of the cheeks slightly spread and the hint of the backs of his balls teasingly peeking through had him drooling. He wasn’t able to resist the urge to kneel down and bite the plump muscle that was cruelly tantalizing him.

Harry squeaked and jolted when the teeth unexpectedly sunk into the taut flesh of his back-side. As he whirled around in surprise, his hard and heavy cock swung around with his swiveling hips and smacked the redhead across his jaw. Harry watched as the dilated blue-eyes darkened further and the man dove, swallowing his shaft to the root.

The startled brunet spared a moment to marvel at the auburn whiskers of his goatee merged amongst his jet-black pubes, reminding him for a brief second of the colour-scheme of the big man’s Peruvian dragon tattoo he’d just explored with teeth and tongue on his back.

As the mouth sucking at him started to slide back and forth, Harry’s knees jolted and knocked his trunk shut and threaded his fingers in those fiery curls to maintain balance; the next second his butt fell with a thunk on the lid, dragging the head of his lover with him, never breaking contact.

They both moaned.

Harry could almost ignore the wooden foot-board of the four-poster digging into his shoulder-blades, but the slight discomfort was distracting and adding nothing to the experience. His heels scrambled for purchase on the lid of the trunk to heft his weight while still holding Charlie’s head in place, pulling the man with him up onto the mattress.

The talented tongue of the older wizard kept its rhythm and never surrendered its treat while they scooted up and got more comfortable.

Harry was dangerously close to blowing his load, but there was something he wanted to try before that happened. “Nngh, Char,” Harry groaned, “Wait….” he wheezed, grasping his face up and off his cock (which wept a little in response to the loss). Charlie blinked in confusion, trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events. “There-there was…. a picture,” the panting brunet attempted to explain, “In the book…. two…. At the same time…. Both….”

A feral grin graced Charlie’s rugged features.

He bumbled over the side of Harry’s quivering left leg and slipped his lips over the brunet’s cock once more, making him squirm beneath him as his mouth swirled the head as he re-positioned his muscle-bound body, straddling and hovering his own aching need above Harry’s face. He shuddered at the hot exhalations gusting over his groin, titillating his sensitized shaft; he involuntarily bucked his pelvis and groaned around his mouthful when his wide, flaring tip sunk into a warm, welcoming wetness.

Harry couldn’t move his head as much as Charlie was-- not having the range of motion the other had to bob up and down-- but strained the cords in his neck as much as he could, and relished making his mouth a plunger of sorts, focusing all his effort into creating suction. He was thrilled with the feeling of being pinned down by the formidable form and solid weight of Charlie’s muscles. As much as he’d enjoyed being in charge of the fucking when he’d been buried deep in the first ass he’d ever sunk into, he marveled at how much he loved being over-powered and taken in this way.

He was succumbing to the dual onslaught of getting and receiving oral gratification at the same time. After some moments, the inexperienced younger wizard could no longer keep up with his ministrations under the tsunami of sensation he was being barraged with.

Charlie had to smile indulgently, his stretched lips tightening at the corners around Harry’s girth. He knew firsthand how difficult during 69-ing it was to multi-task when you were new to both getting and giving blowjobs simultaneously; it was a skill that developed over time. But for now, he was just happy to be bestowing toe-curling pleasure to his lover (and getting somewhat of a break in the stimulation department so he wouldn’t come too soon).

They both groaned when Harry took it upon himself to slide his hands up Charlie’s thick thighs and grasp his burly buttocks and shove his lower-half into impaling his length down his throat.

Charlie panted harshly through his nose, not expecting the sudden squeezed and vibrating ribbed feeling of his esophagus made around the top-most portion of his erection. Concerned, he pulled back a bit, but slithering fingers crept up his legs and latched onto his glutes, pulling them back down again, further into his gullet, and successfully stuffing gob completely full.

The redhead shuddered, once more thanking the Heavens and any and all Gods that Harry was a natural at taking cock.

(He briefly wondered if he had anything to do with that— making the young man think this was the normal way this act usually occurred, showing him his first time when he’d pulled out all his best moves; if he had had only typical, fumbling teenage girl-style blowjobs, would he just be fiddling around in the “shallow-end” and think that that was the best it could be?)

That thought was whisked away in the next moment when Harry’s jaw went totally slack and all motion stopped on his end. Thinking he would most definitely need air and a rest, the dragon-handler pulled out (again, glad for the respite that would allow him to last longer).

Harry took some heaving gulps, teasing him with his blowing breath even more, and then the novice (soon to gain expert status) was inhaling him again, pressing persistently with his palms, shoving the pelvis hanging over his face down, back into that enthusiastic oral orifice, urging him to fuck his face.

Charlie jerked back, startled, disengaging both of their mouths, when the no-nonsense voice of their co-worker cut across the haze of lust that his mind was swimming in:

“We are all in the Common Room and ready to go into town. I trust we gave you enough time to get showered and dressed.”

The otter melted away as Harry groaned and buried his frustrated features into the chunk of hard, hairy flesh that rested beside his right ear (Woo. Hermione Granger, mood-killer! Thanks so much for that, Sis!)

Before he thought about it (or more blood could return to his brain) he shot one off-- high on the feeling of simultaneous oral stimulation, figuring that if he didn’t answer, they would be getting unwanted visitors at their door in the next minute. “Not…. Coming…..” he decreed through a terribly winded cadence and gravelly throat (seconds later, he hoped that it didn’t sound so much like…. well, what it was).

Charlie smirked as the stag left— He murmured a very sultry, “Not yet….”

“Char….. I—” but his thought was cut off by the sudden, unexpected return of sweet sensation, of a knowledgeable tongue and palate taking him to the height of pleasure. “Ah!”

Harry let his inhibitions melt away and felt no embarrassment over craning his neck up as far as he could, his mouth gaping wide open like a baby bird eagerly begging to receive a big fat worm. When Charlie complied and fed him his juicy prick, he tried to reciprocate, guiding the powerfully-muscled pelvis to pound into his face.

Harry, despite the interruption, couldn’t help it. He came. HARD.

“Fuck! Fuck-yeah!” was what he tried to say around his mouthful, but it came sounding like, “Fooommmm, fumnnnngnk! Guh-eh!”

It didn’t matter. The thoughts were effectively communicated (through both tone and vibration); they travelled straight through the redhead’s central nervous system, converging on his prick and balls, making his ejaculate explode on Harry’s waiting tongue. He barely had the presence of mind to angle himself sideways as he crumpled and fell, successfully avoiding crushing his lover under his dead weight.

They lay panting and licking their lips in luxuriant contentment, riding out the aftershocks of their orgasms.

And then the room was once again basking in that tell-tale white misty glow. “I see you’ve got you’re form back, Harry. We WILL be discussing this at your earliest convenience. Namely, the party, so we expect you to be dressed and in the Great Hall for the late supper at nine.”

Harry once again groaned at the intrusion of his best friend’s understanding, yet prim businesslike voice. (At least they had been able to find completion before she replied— probably just enough time for Hermione’s super-brain to go into overdrive at the ramifications of the Patronuses shape-shifting.)

“So,” Charlie mumbled, “Even though the room is ‘Imurturbed’, it still allows in Patronuses in? And out? That’s annoying….” He huffed, still struggling to regain his respiratory equilibrium.

The brunet nodded with the last of his energy. “Yeah.”

“I used to think they were so cool for communication purposes— and they are— but there has got to be SOME times that people can’t be reached….” Charlie complained.

Harry nodded again; he was in whole-hearted agreement that during sex it would be great if they could just “take the phone off the hook” or hang a ‘Do not Disturb’ sign on the door. An idea bloomed in his head while Charlie was still contemplating the situation.

“I mean, I KNOW we have it over the Muggles in some ways, but at least with Floo-calls, if you’re not in the room, you aren’t obligated to talk right then,” the sated redhead continued, “Owls, you can take your time in replying. Being able to use Patronuses as missives is rare, but hanging with all you Order members recently and you can use them at any time, it’s got me to thinking….” (Harry spared a brief thought that the Trio never made it to official membership status but kept quiet.)

Harry was certain Hermione would latch onto this idea— inspired by Muggle technology— a of a sort-of answering machine/e-mail/‘put the message on hold’ type of thing, to selectively allow or block Patronus messages according to urgency and emergency-- and research a way to make it work.

“Actually,” the brunet answered, “Muggles have electronic devices that allow them instantaneous communication, if they want it, but they can always let it record and leave the message until later.”

Harry briefly flashed on the horridly hokey out-going message on the Dursley’s answering machine that he’d had to listen to when they were out and he was locked in the cupboard; the nauseating suburban swill of playing at a perfect, happy family that began with each of their voices stating their names individually (never mentioning the fourth member of the household, of course) and then speaking in unison that they were ‘unable to come to the phone so please leave a message’ before the eardrum-piercing beep.

He also recalled Dudley’s teen years of begging for-- and receiving-- every new model of mobile phone:

Somehow, he always managed to get the latest and greatest technology, claiming the old one broke and needed a replacement. Harry wasn’t sure if the previous, outdated versions actually fell victim to true accidents like his cousin claimed due to those clumsy, fat, butter-fingers dropping the thing into the toilet, or the lure of the most cutting-edge device made him “careless”. (There WAS one instance the bloated bully really didn’t mean to wreck his phone that Harry knew of for sure— it had been dislodged from his pocket and smashed upon the cement while he was engaged in a scuffle, roughing up some younger kids at the play-park.)

Regardless, Petunia always made sure he got the very best.

“Originally,” Harry continued, shaking off those old memories that seemed like they happened a life-time ago. “The Order used this form of communication that could penetrate through any ward for emergency purposes….”

“But now you’ve gone beyond that and into speaking at any time and any place,” Charlie finished the thought out loud for him.

“Exactly,” Harry confirmed. “If we put Hermione to the task to change that, we should come up with some way to be able to modify wards at certain times, or put the messages on hold to a more appropriate time…. Maybe still have an over-ride if it is a true emergency….”

Charlie’s befuddled mind was confused, “OverRIDE?”

“Never mind,” Harry told him sleepily, “Muggle term.” The brunet yawned widely. “If she has a puzzle to solve, she’ll stay busy and leave us alone….”

The boneless redhead grunted in agreement. They really did need to have some times that weren’t intruded upon (especially now that their relationship had reached such a profound and physical level—and in the most ecstatic, honey-moon type of way possible!).

“And if anyone can figure that out it will be her….” Charlie added sleepily, starting to succumb to slumber again. “And if she doesn’t, I’ll make sure to learn the talking part and send my bear to her and Ron every time I know they want to some ‘alone time’…. Heh-heh-heh.”

Harry snickered at the thought (and was glad once again that Patronus eyes didn’t share with their owners— because he SURE didn’t want to glimpse any of THAT!). As he nuzzled into the large man’s neck and felt his strong arm hold him tightly yet gently, and press him against his solid chest possessively, he— for the first time in his life— felt positive and happy about what the future had in store for him.

It felt SO good to be accepted, understood and taken! He wanted this for the rest of his life….

~O~

A/N: Um…. Yeah…. So there’s a bit more to their New Year’s Eve night next, didn’t get as far as I planned…. But again, it seemed mean to make you faithful readers wait until I could type all their action (antics, I meant antics! ;). Hope you guys bear with me and come back for the next go!
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WONKY CROSS