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
- 21
- 22
- 23
A/N: Thanks for all the reads, rates and reviews! I cherish them all.

Haha, Uneeded! I think you should change your name to ‘most welcome’! Your feedback is much loved and have eerily insightful ideas….

Ok, one last thing— This chapter is dedicated to my BFF the lovely FK, for many an inspiration, support, and funny RL background stories (that add to my own) to incorporate into a fic! Love you, pretty lady! :)

~O~

BRIGHT, Part Two

He came back to consciousness slowly.

It was like a buoyant bubble rising from the depth and darkness of a Scottish loch, slow and wavering, ascending towards the light. His eyelids fluttered but felt sluggish; his leadened limbs were non-responsive to the commands of his brain. A pressure around his right hand increased and a familiar voice filtered through the ‘Muffliato’ that seemed to be plaguing his eardrums.

“Healer Hopkinson! Healer Hopkinson!! I think he’s waking up!”

“Ttttchhhh….leeeeee….” (apparently his lips and larynx didn’t feel like working properly either.)

“Harry! I’m here. Please, Love….” The voice that belonged to the man he adored sounded so beseeching and plaintive; his heavy lids fluttered and squinted, trying to focus on the blur of two pinpricks of sapphire blue surrounded by a mane of auburn curls. “How are you? How do you feel? What do you need?” He could feel a cool wet cloth being smoothed over his brow and the other hand holding his squeezing in a spaztic rhythm.

The disoriented brunet blinked several times.

“Wha-hapnn’d?” He tried to smile in a reassuring manner— and then gratefully as his glasses were placed over his eyes, bringing his vision to their best clarity. But he was afraid by the terrified expression on his lover’s countenance that it probably looked more pained (if the fleeting grimace, that his newly-focused vision afforded him of the anguish that was stained across that freckled face was anything to go by).

“Sweetness,” Charlie had resumed his obsessive petting and cooing, “They say that you are going to be ok…. And you HAVE to be…. Fuck! I love you more than anything! If anything ever happened to you….”

Harry was still sluggish but tried to get more active to stop the redhead from worrying so much. He wasn’t successful. His vocal chords were still realigning themselves— and apparently on vacation from taking commands from his brain; his boyfriend was allowed free reign to vent his rant. “WHY did you go off the path? I told you not to ever go off the paths!!”

Charlie was getting a little hysterical and launched into berating himself:

“I should have told you the reason the designated human resources are sliced down the center! The rocky promontory and deep-cut canyon in the South of our Quadrant is unusable to us and where Norberta chose to roost! Why didn’t I explain the wards? What was I thinking? I should have never left your side unescorted! You never should have been left alone that far afield! I--” Harry winced as his hand was squished too firmly; he knew he needed to calm the man before he beat himself up too badly.

“Mmm fine…. Boy-Who-Can’t-Die…” he joked feebly and a clammy forehead pressed against his, whimpering in relief. “How…. long have I been out?”

A stranger’s voice assaulted him next (and he gave an involuntary startle at the Umbridge-like “A-hem!”).

“I’m the resident medic, Healer Kara Hopkinson,” the stranger stated. “You’ve been incapacitated for three days, almost four. You’ve come around much faster than most would after hitting wards such as those. You have a second signature ghosted around your own--” (Harry blanched in horror. Did having one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes housed in his body for most of his life deform his magic forever?)

Mistaking his worried look, the woman backpedalled.

“I meant you have an echo, if you will, of Mr. Weasley’s signature entwined around your own. I’ve only seen such a thing once, during a professor’s demonstration while at university. It’s really quite rare….” Shaking her head to clear it and steer it back to her original train of thought, she explained, “With the bolstered strength to your core, you will recover much more rapidly than many others would. You already have.”

Charlie gave a strangled dry-sob and draped himself over his precious man. (All Harry was thinking after it sounded like he’d be ok was, ‘Great. Hermione is going to bury me with questions about this— yet another anomaly in his atypical life— and research the shit out of it to see IF and HOW it ties in with her Patronus switching project. Well, I’ll put the ladies in direct communication with each other and try to stay out of it as much as possible.’)

“Your vitals are excellent and will feel back to normal levels soon, I expect. You will be in a rather sedate state for a few days, but then be right as rain. I need you to refrain from using your magic for a bit but other than that, your internal natural strength serves you well. You simply need rest.”

“Caregiver Weasley,” she stated in a no-nonsense tone, “you may talk with him later-- now I need to run scans to assess his current condition.”

Charlie reluctantly went to leave the room, promising he’d be close-by. “Wait!” Harry called out— “What happened with Blanca?”

“I sent Vlad to update the containment wards once I saw you. Her excessive blind bumblings into them were enough to weaken the strands prematurely in spots….. I couldn’t leave your side once Nick had brought you in.” He visibly trembled at the memory of seeing the limp, lifeless body of his beloved right before he’d sent word over the trouble in the Forbidden Forrest. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry, just get better.”

As the stocky man forced himself though the door into the hall, he yelped over his shoulder, “I’m only right here if you need me!”

Harry had a moment’s concern over whether or not he was touched inappropriately by the blond while he was out cold; but no, whatever he believed of Nick’s determination to seduce him, the proud man wouldn’t stoop to that level. He knew that. He had one last thought before he submitted to a medical examination all alone from a complete stranger: “Is my broom OK?”

~O~

It had been three days since he woke but he was going NUTS!!

YES, it was sweet that everyone cared so much, and kept visiting (except Nick, who remained absent), but it was starting to get on his nerves. Harry had always hated being stuck and immobile in the Medical Wing of ANY place. He also hated that his infirm state was keeping his boyfriend from doing his job properly!

And it was obvious that the dragon caregiver thought he had to take care of everything regarding Harry.

The first time he needed the loo, he welcomed Charlie’s help walking the short length of floor to the bog (since his knees were threatening to buckle at any second). The ailing brunet was soon embarrassed that the man he wanted to appear as nothing-less-than-sexy-in-front-of plunked him down on the seat to pee girly-style, going so far as to manually tuck his penis down between his weak thighs to point and aim towards the water.

He was mortified.

But the next time that he’d escorted him there, when he was dying—and holding off as long as he could-- to take a dump and Charlie STAYED by his side to monitor him, he had to put his foot down.

No way! NUH-UH! NOT gonna happen!

His body needed a release that couldn’t happen with an audience!

He could only shake his head adamantly as he made the over-zealous ginger shrug in irritation and finally leave under heavy protest, muttering that it was ‘no big deal’ and he’d helped toilet-train the twins, Ron and his little sister.

Harry snorted audibly when the door closed, but wasn’t locked. He knew the man was listening right outside for sounds of distress or need of help. (FINE! If Charlie was determined to hover and heard random farts— so be it— but he’d be damned if the man he loved was going to SEE and SMELL it!!) He emphatically refused to have someone— sibling experience or not— observe him while he used the toilet in the worst possible way!

(AND all this was happening over his overwhelming stupidity! That fact stung him the worst. He wiped with a puff of tissue and a shaky hand when he was done-- but managed just fine-- and was triumphant that he could do it on his own without aid or interference!)

Today, his salvation came in the form of Titsy; she’d affectionately run her fingers through the frazzled man’s fiery hair and pulled them away with a grimace, surreptitiously swiping the resulting coating of grease on her skirt. “Red, you’ve been here for too many days and never left his side. I think it’s time for a shower and shampoo.”

As he grumbled-- completely unaware of her disdainfully wrinkled nose-- she countered, “I’m surprised your stench didn’t wake him like smelling-salts!” He made her promise to stay with his precious patient while he bathed and call him immediately if there was any change. She smiled saccharinely sweet and produced a tray of treacle tart. Harry’s face brightened until she whispered that it was NICK that made sure she learned and made his favourite sweet.

He had wondered when that subject would be brought up. The intuitive woman interpreted his apprehensive expression correctly.

“It’s up to you what you want to tell Char,” she cooed in understanding when the over-protective man finally left (after an over-abundance of sweet caresses and kisses).

At the bed-ridden man’s silence, she continued. “Nick feels awful. And believe me, it takes a lot for him to internalize blame…. He’s actually a good guy, he’s just not used to such rejection….” She sighed and then uttered in a reverent tone as if she’d witnessed an Eighth Wonder of the World, “I’ve never known for him to feel actual guilt, though!”

Harry thought he might have answered but his jaws were currently glued shut from the stickiness of the boiled sugar of his specially–made dessert.

“Nick is certainly being more accommodating than I’ve ever seen him-- been interested in your well-being in such a platonic way yet dancing around Charlie on egg-shells, like he might get his clock cleaned at any second. But it’s weird, he begged Tiger to swap her rota to go into the field this time around…. He’s never done that!”

Harry shook his head, not really understanding what all this meant. Nick, after weeks of trying to relentlessly trying to get in his pants, was suddenly making moves to put distance between them? Was he that embarrassed? Had he hurt the tall blond so badly?

She looked at his expression of consternation curiously yet continued, “It’s pretty obvious what happened, but Red has been so wrapped up in your health that he doesn’t see the signs. I wasn’t about to burst his bubble of ignorance until I talked to you.”

The brunet frowned and looked away. He didn’t want to cause problems. “I—“ he started and then shook his head. “He doesn’t need to know the reason I flew off the path.”

“FUCK!” MaryAnne suddenly exclaimed. “You are darling! This is about friendship and harmony and keeping the peace, isn’t it?”

He mutely nodded. “I won’t tell if you don’t want me to,” she stated firmly, then mused, “It’s probably for the best. I shudder to think what an angry, irate Charlie would do to him for making you run head-on into wards that are meant to contain dragons. Despite how much The Dick and I bicker, I don’t want to see him hurt…. Or killed.”

What Titsy said made it clear: The Norseman wanted to get away from the redhead, knowing he’d be in big trouble if Harry told him that his aggressive advances had pushed his boyfriend into a panicked reaction and put himself in extreme danger.

Cringing at what violent scenarios that could occur if Charlie found out, Harry realized MaryAnne was still speaking. “He has been solicitous and polite— downright contrite— and the Heavens aren’t crashing down around us!” She raised her hands in a dramatic gesture.

“Whatever he did out there must have forced him to see that you and Charlie-bear are the real deal. I think he’s finally seen the true love you two share, that is so obvious to the rest of us. It is truly ineffable! Nick even--”

MaryAnne’s hushed and rushed explanation was cut off:

“How is he?!” Charlie quickly re-entered the room with a wet head, damp towel hung around his neck and frantic look on his face. (Did he really think Harry would perish having being left for seven minutes?)

“I’m still here and HE’S still fine,” Harry huffed, working through his annoyance at being babied to the brink of insanity, talked about as if he was still unconscious and the unsettling revelations about the blonde goddess knowing (or fairly accurately guessing) what really caused his accident. He didn’t like keeping things from his boyfriend, but he would hate it even more to have caused the falling out of a long-standing friendship and an irreparable rift in the small close-knit group over something so petty and trivial.

In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. It sounded as if Nick learned his lesson and wouldn’t be trying anything like that ever again. And Harry was assured his health would be fine soon enough, just after a bit of recovery over his dunderheaded decision.

“Look,” he softened his tone, “can we get out of here? I’m a little tired still, but I don’t need to be in the infirmary any longer. I’d rather rest in our own bed.”

Charlie’s heart-melting smile of devotion said it all; he wouldn’t wipe that look of relief off his face for anything (and was more than content to let the man think his young boyfriend was simply a moron for flying away from the well-charted paths because of some internal compass that lead him to get zapped like a bug-- for foolhardily taking a short-cut through unknown, heavily warded territory).

~O~

It wasn’t that much later after he’d been released from Healer Kara Hopkinson’s care (that he’d been surprised to learn she was both a human and animal doctor) and had been allowed to convalesce in their own, private bed that Harry got a huge fright of his own:

They were just about to drift off when a ‘Sonorous’ blared through the compound in Ivan’s voice. “All hands on deck! Territorial dispute in Quadrant Three! Latitude 45.5 degrees North, Longitude 25.1 East! Combat ready, ASAP! Strategy there in five minutes!”

Harry shot up in bed only to find his lover across the room pulling on dragon-hide pants and jacket, tying his hair back in a tight ponytail and grabbing a helmet. Stuffing his feet into his well-worn boots, Harry thought he might look like something out of a movie (there had been something on the tele one Summer that Dudley watched about an apocalyptic motorcycle gang; he’d stolen glances of it while polishing the silver).

His man was muttering something under his breath about ‘Area three, that fucking Fireball punk’s still at it….’ The inherent irritation in his words belied the fondness in his tone and smile— there was a sparkle to his countenance that he was obviously amused.

All Harry could think was that Charlie looked damn hot— but it was a scary situation at the same time.

As much as Harry wanted to beg them all-- especially his boyfriend-- to stay out of danger, he couldn’t deny the man this excitement of dealing with the dragons he so loved. He often felt guilty that the reptile enthusiast had taken himself off the roster that would have assigned him camping and surveillance shifts over their seasonal stay; it was his fault that he was keeping his lover away from working with the beasts he had such a passion for.

All because Harry was there with him and couldn’t legally be allowed to go along on the missions….

(Of course, the redhead never made it seem as though he regretted his choice, but the brunet could tell his boyfriend missed it-- he couldn’t help but notice the wistful cast to his eyes when he read the field-notes or watched his colleagues depart to venture into the land of dragons.)

Still, he couldn’t help his first knee-jerk reaction and thoughts to the loudly broadcasted call-to-arms: You are informed of a dragon fight--that doesn’t directly concern people being harmed-- and instead of steering clear, you run straight for it?!

“You stay right here, got it?! Don’t move! Get some sleep…. I don’t know how long this will take.” Charlie gripped his shoulders, imploring WAY too obviously about the instruction to STAY PUT (saying without speaking it outright to not wander un-escorted across lands he knew nothing about).

Harry rolled his eyes. (He had no reason to fuss, he was certainly remaining behind. He’d already learned the hard way. But that wouldn’t stop him from being concerned….)

His heart and stomach clenched at the brief kiss and breathless, excited— seemingly all too casual— ‘Love you!’ was uttered as his beloved ran out the door. Harry’s ‘I love you, too’ echoed in the sudden emptiness of the room; his constricted throat couldn’t even get out his last thought: Come back to me safe and sound.

It was long, harrowing, sleepless night.

This was the first time Charlie had willingly left his side and sight since his stay in the hospital. Sure, he’d wished for a little space at times when the redhead’s mother-henning became too overbearing-- but not in such a dire a circumstance like this!

After he’d peeked out the curtains and watched the assembled group—donned in full battle regalia-- Disapparate from the center square, his nerves started to jangle and fray in full force. As the minutes, and then hours ticked by, he ranged from agitation and scared pacing to curling in a ball in a state of catatonic fear.

Logically he knew there was nothing he could do to help the much more qualified personnel with their job, but it warred dramatically with his inherent instinct and “saving people” thing. It was made exponentially worse by the fact that he’d finally found true love and the most wonderful comfort in another person he’d ever known and there was the very real possibility it could all be ripped away too soon (as Fate seemed to have decided so unfairly often for him thus far.)

It was near pre-dawn that the cracks signaling the Preserve staff’s return roused him from his latest morose musings. Harry let out a dry-sob of relief at seeing everyone come back safely; then he sucked in a gasp of dismayed horror.

They all looked the worse for wear.

Jason and Josh’s clothing was singed in dark patches. Charlie’s boots were blackened and cracked, perhaps beyond repair. The girls’ heavy leather gear was actually torn in places! (Harry could only hope against hope that the reason Vlad and Nick weren’t among the team was because they were the ones currently on duty and obligated to remain there for the rest of their away-mission.) Everyone’s faces were all grubby with soot but when he looked closer, they all looked ecstatic.

WHAT?! Huh?!

Harry rushed out in his pajamas and launched himself into Charlie’s arms, not caring if some of the dirt, grit and leaves in his hair transferred themselves to him. (It wasn’t until later that he chided himself for hugging his boyfriend so tight when he may have had an unseen injury.) But all he could think of in that moment was feeling the solid weight of those welcoming biceps— all full of life and strength-- around his frame to ease his worry.

The jovial, congratulatory mood and words spilling from everyone’s lips as they chattered incessantly over their recent adventure helped assuage some of his anxiety as well.

Over breakfast, they all breathlessly recounted blow-by-blow all the action:

Harry barely repressed shivers over the injury-- and subsequent suffering-- that could have befallen any one of them. And they all seemed so HAPPY about it?

MENTAL! The whole lot of them!

They were all hopped up on adrenaline and talking a mile a minute about what they did to divert each dragon’s attention, what they thought the animal was thinking, what jet of fire came their way or what defensive spells they pulled out of their ass at the last second….

It was overwhelming for Harry, having been lulled into a complacent sense of serenity with the monotony-- and quite safe— never-ending farming chores. Not seeing up close or living the reality of being in the lethal beings’ proximity and facing his and his friends’ own mortality daily at all made it so the magical, mystic reptiles weren’t really…. real to him.

But the ‘out-of-sight, out-of-mind’ phenomenon was shattered now for the brunet and it made concrete the fact he could have lost Charlie!

(At one point, at the height of Harry’s angst-filled inner-monologue, Charlie leaned over to him with still-gleaming eyes and reassured him as he patted his slightly quivering hand. ‘Oh, don’t fret Love, most of it is putting out wildfires from stray flames before they take over the vegetation and ruin the ecosystem. We mostly have to be there as a mild distraction, to keep them from major harm or tend to any bad injury after the fact.’)

The raucous bunch ravenously ate the delicious breakfast feast MaryAnne cooked up with almost-obscene gusto. They didn’t let up with their commentary-- even with full mouths-- throughout the meal (and occasionally rained flecks of food from their forks down upon their nearest bench-mates while gesticulating wildly with their loaded cutlery).

The zealous and thrilled nature of the caregivers had Harry realizing that this energy-rush was a lot of what they loved about their job…. He trusted them since it was so obvious that they were all capable and competent— but that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen. And he realized how fulfilled they were with having a career in which they were so well-suited and excelled in.

He broodingly wondered what he might be good at as he stabbed an egg-yolk, obviously left out of the current conversation. He never really thought about it much and took things all in the present, facing them as they came. He’d never been able to make a plan further than that.

What was he good at?

Defense against the Dark Arts classes were where he truly shined and it all came naturally, but the Auror idea from his youth seemed laughable now. It seemed like childish folly-- a quest for an action-packed, fantastically heroic occupation, much how Muggle boys might dream of being an astronaut (and if memory served, becoming a law enforcement officer had been Ron’s suggestion).

Fame and adulation were the least appealing objectives to him now that he’d had more of a chance to grow and learn how the world works. And he was thoroughly disillusioned with the integrity and politics of the Ministry, even though things were slowly improving. He also didn’t fancy putting himself in danger every day either— he felt he’d had enough of that already to last a lifetime

Professional Quidditch? No, that would still thrust him into the ‘Lumos Maxima’ of the public eye. That wouldn’t be enjoyable in the least and take all the fun out of the game….

He yawned and shook his head. His muddled thoughts focused on, ‘I like helping people’, but didn’t become any clearer than that in his sleep-deprived state.

The ruminating brunet was practically nodding off over doing the dishes when Charlie grabbed him from behind in a big bear-hug. “Leave the rest,” he growled in his ear (after he nuzzled aside some— very recently tortuously pulled upon— black locks.) Harry quickly rinsed his hands of suds.

There was no mistaking the husky, feral tone of his lover’s voice!

He was SO happy to go bee-lining back to their home and getting his man to fuck him like there was no tomorrow, to drain off the intriguing extra energy that was crackling off of his artwork-littered body. And Harry was more than pleased that he could blame his weariness on his recent recuperation so that it would be completely understandable that he could just relax and go along for the ride without much effort on his part.

(He’d never been all that passive before-- so that was new and exciting— and it was a treat to just be taken. It was like being used while being worshiped. It was simply wonderful. He loved moaning for MORE. And getting it!)

It was also made more arousing that they had not been together in a sexual way since before his accident. SO many factors contributed to the heightened sensation and satisfaction of that session that they partook in, celebrating the primal pas de deux as old as Time itself!

It was perfect….

~O~

“So,” SerenaRose asked casually as they sipped lemonade on the girls’ front porch, taking a break from the hottest part of the day (and adhering to the Healer’s proclamations of his ‘taking it easy’) “are you uncut like most of the guys on this side of the World?”

Harry had no idea what this random turn in the conversation meant but by the glimmer in her eye knew it had to be something regarding sex; his genuine confusion must have shown on his face because she smiled and said ‘uncircumcised’.

Still uncomprehending, he looked at her quizzically.

She laughed softly and offered a bit more clarification. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then. You know, sliced off foreskin? Snip, snip?” She mimed scissors with the fingers on her free hand, sporting a smirk.

Tiger threw her head back and laughed, patting him on the back when he’d promptly inhaled some of his fruity drink and started a fit of coughing.

“Cut?” *hack* “it” *wheeze* “off?!”

The young woman delicately wiped his dribbling chin dry with a kerchief in a motherly fashion and then pulled him up from his seat murmuring, “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

With Harry stumbling just a little while his watering eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to dark, they crossed the cool interior of the sitting-room (which he had seen before) and into her personal chambers (which he hadn’t). He blinked a little as he took in that every surface was covered in pictures, colored glass and shiny metal beads, glittering trinkets, sumptuous fabrics and raptor feathers.

As he sat beside her on the mattress, he barely had time to register that she was rooting around under her bed and withdrew a large stack of magazines.

She flipped through several pages while Harry uncontrollably blushed when he saw the first cover— it was a very muscular and fit bloke, naked, with his hands behind his head. The bottom edge of the photo cut off right before it got to ‘the good stuff’. She was muttering more to herself than him, “Gotta find a really great one….”

“HA!” she barked triumphantly and turned the glossy still-image to him.

There, with a large erection that hung heavy, was the first penis he’d ever seen that was…. What did she call it? Circle cum….spy—size? Well, it was certainly huge!

His eyes bugged out, trying to mentally calculate the dimensions and measurements. Before he could censor his mouth, he blurted out, “Does cutting the skin off make it bigger?”

SerenaRose threw her head back and laughed in good humour (much like Charlie did when he said something naïve and his cluelessness was found to be endearing). “No,” she said with affection and mirth in her twinkling forest-green eyes. “Though shaving the hair surrounding certainly does help with making it seem so….”

As he gripped the pages with jittery fingers, she took in the suddenly dilated pupils, surreptitious pulling of the frayed hems of his cut-offs (with the slight squirming of hips) and the strategic placing of the magazine over his crotch. Obviously the boy was embarrassed and trying to conceal and shift a rapidly growing boner in a more comfortable direction.

No wonder Charlie fell for this guy so completely! He was ADORABLE!!

She’d sensed his Old Soul immediately upon meeting but was intrigued by his child-like innocence in some ways. They knew a bit about his history in general terms, that he’d seen and lived through so much that grown witches and wizards could scarcely imagine, but he was so sweet in other ways it made her heart clench.

He never talked about his past at all, but he was a perplexing mix of hardened, tough skin and fresh vulnerability that it was intoxicating. He was just a wonderfully…. delightful…. guy.

“Well, the men that go into this line of work don’t go into it if they are average! Here, I’ll find you another good one.” She took the smutty periodical from him ‘accidentally’ brushing his bulge and played it off like nothing happened. She flipped to another page and gave it back.

Harry swallowed hard. Then wrinkled his nose. They were penises, of course, but they looked…. Weird.

And not just like pulling back the skin, bunching it down to clean under or mercilessly tease the head with a tongue. He had to squint and look closer. He didn’t see any scar— or even any sort of break in the skin where the incision should have been. It looked smooth and unblemished, a long smooth shaft with a well-defined ridge under the pointed head.

Actually, it looked a lot like one of the dildos Charlie had in his case…. (But in all fairness, he had never really looked at it in depth-- it was only ever unexpectedly introduced into their play while he sucked his lover’s cock.)

“So you really never heard of this before?” SerenaRose cut across his internal debate. (He may or may have not heard under her breath that MaryAnne owed her two sickles-- What WAS it about people putting money on his sexual experience?!)

“Well,” she humphed, “MaryAnne knew about it in theory before she got here, but didn’t realize that they were mostly uncut. Pretty much everyone is where we come from…. After her first encounter with a ‘turtleneck’ she ran screaming, crying and calling her mother. She was beside herself, begging her to promise that had she been born a boy her mother would have had her circumcised!”

The witch chuckled in remembrance.

Harry gave a nervous giggle, realizing the latest magazine was Wizarding and it was two men getting it on. They were both stunning and fit. He particularly admired the look of their trimmed pubes; their bushes were neat and tidy and he wondered if Charlie might like it if he did that to himself.

It was getting a bit too stifling and hot in the small room but Harry was mesmerized by the visual stimuli and had no immediate intention to go get some fresh air. One little niggling thought plagued him and had to squeak, “Why do you have gay men porn? I thought you were straight?”

“Oh I AM, flamingly so,” she smiled and ruffled through some more pages. “But I LOVE the dudes! I love everything about them. Their bodies, their horniness…. I adore giving and getting what can be done with a males’ body. So why not enjoy two together?” She shrugged and then sang, “Two boners are better than one! They’re twice the fun, ask anyone!”

Harry nodded absently. (MaryAnne and her were always popping out with random quotes he had no idea of their origins, yet always seemed apropos to the moment.)

He was reminded that Ginny had said something similar about two women together regarding the whole Halloween incident; of course, at the time, she (and he) had believed that he had been attracted to females, so the ginger witch couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to ‘double his pleasure’ with her and Demelza.

“Here! I found it! THIS you’ve got to see!” Tiger exclaimed and broke him out of his reverie, shoving a several page photo-shoot under his nose. She appeared to be holding her breath in anticipation.

A platinum blond was pounding into some brunet bloke under him. Harry’s mouth watered as he admired the thin hips and tight buttocks powerfully thrusting, causing that delectable dimple on the side-- that particular part of the male anatomy that made him drool.

And then the camera angle moved around to show most of the top’s face.

Was that…. NICK?!

He quickly flipped through to more images…. It certainly looked like him, but much younger and with shorter hair. He quickly pieced together the clues (SerenaRose, eyes alight with impish glee and jiggling the mattress with suppressed sniggers were a major hint). He looked up questioningly and her shit-eating grin confirmed it.

He furrowed his brows, squinted his eyes, and looked closer. With the youthful face and shorn locks, the Scandavian dragon-handler looked very handsome. And much more like Draco than Lucius.

Wait, hang on! Was Draco Malfoy-- his schoolyard rival-- attractive?

He wracked his brain, sifting through various memories of the snooty blond Pureblood. He came to no definite conclusion; all he could see was the smug smirks, pinched scowls and arrogant attitude that their classmate had while spouting vile insults towards him and his friends during their formative years.

The brunet shook his head to clear it.

Harry could readily admit that despite the superficial resemblance to the Malfoys, both Sr. and Jr. (and big ego), actually knowing the dragon-handler’s personality let him see that Nick was a gorgeous man. He just couldn’t get past the pale Slytherin’s vile treatment of them for so long in order to determine if his arch-nemesis at Hogwarts was good-looking or not.

“Ah, you finally showed him that,” MaryAnne’s weary voice sounded from the door. “Did she tell you how much she paid to unearth that back-copy after he drunkenly-- yet enigmatically-- admitted to being ‘young and didn’t know any better, insisting it started as an innocent modeling job?’”

“You’re back!” Tiger launched herself from the bed and into her roommate’s arms. Harry stood as well, mildly surprised at just how glad he was to see her, suddenly realizing how much he’d missed the feisty woman. He hugged her too, wriggling his hips back when she whispered (a little too loudly) into his hair that Charlie really hadn’t been kidding that their Little-Man was not small at all where it counted most.

Titsy shrugged off her pack and dropped it in the hall and stepped into the room. “Having a little porny party, are we? Did you get anything new while I was away?”

“I didn’t, but you did,” SerenaRose tugged out a still-wrapped in plain brown paper flat package and handed it to her best friend, smiling affectionately when the blonde goddess murmured ‘Aww, you waited’.

They all flopped heavily on the bed sending a cloud of rose-scent into the air. MaryAnne ripped open her treat and flipped through the pages. SerenaRose watched her expectantly, and then grinned when her best friend’s light, finely-arched brows rose in amusement.

“Ok, if you’re still at it when I’m done with my shower, I’ll join you,” MaryAnne announced, hoisting herself up off the soft mattress.

Tiger smirked, with a tongue-in-cheek expression. “Am I to believe this has only to do with finally getting to wash with soap and warm water?” Then to Harry, explained that while out on the quadrants, they could only rinse in their bodies and cooking implements in streams without detergents that would foul the drinking water.

“Eh, shut it you,” Titsy said good-naturedly. “It WAS…. Until this!” She unfurled a centerfold that revealed a pair of twins in front of a fireplace, both sporting large erections. “Well, I’ll let you two to it. I’d like to be squeaky clean and nicely shaven for when I descend on Jason or Josh…. Or both.” She snorted as she made her way into the hall, shaking her head, “Three weeks with just Nick…. I’m always amazed we don’t end up hexing each other into oblivion….”

“NICE!” SerenaRose breathed, snatching the magazine to get a closer look. “Identical right down to the bone!” She flipped it around so Harry could see. “Never knew any twins in real life to test the theory!”

The brunet gulped, both in embarrassment at ogling penises in front of an audience and a pang of sadness over losing Fred. “I knew a couple….” He gave a rueful smile. “Charlie had twin brothers….”

“Had?” her forehead wrinkled, but still obviously distracted by the erotic image.

“We lost Fred in the Final Battle,” Harry answered quietly. Tiger’s wild mane of hair whipped up suddenly. He smiled sadly. “No,” he started when he anticipated her next query, “I never saw them…. But they both joked that they were each bigger than the other….”

She smiled and gently smoothed a sympathetic hand over his ankle. “Sounds like they were fun-loving typical males….”

Harry nodded and flipped another page. More of the twins…. But at least these men were dark-haired and bore no resemblance to the lanky red-headed twins who had become his business partners.

“Well, well, well. What do we have going on in here?” Harry startled badly when Nick appeared, leaning too casually and sexily on the door-frame to be legal, looking freshly scrubbed and sporting damp hair. He had a lazy smirk gracing his face as he took in the tableau of his comrades surrounded by strewn porn; it quickly clouded into a scowl when he spied the pages that featured his visage.

Nick made a sudden dive for the back issue of ‘Cum-Sluts’ that he’d starred in so many years ago. SerenaRose yelped and held it over her head as he tackled her on the bed.

(Harry quickly crossed the room and sunk into the armchair by the door that was covered in clothes to avoid getting hit by a stray elbow or foot.)

As she shrieked and giggled while he tickled her ribs in between fruitless grabs and swipes for the magazine, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to buck him off. All she really succeeded in doing was quickly escalating a playful wresting match into a vigorous dry-hump.

The brunet’s emerald eyes were riveted on the man’s long sinuous body and taut muscles of his tight, round butt as they flexed and rocked into the toned feminine body pinned below him.

The slightly crumpled pages lay forgotten on her pillow as they paused, breathing heavily into each other’s lungs, sharing used air; “Fuck me,” she begged in a throaty purr.

He smoothed her wild hair back from her flushed face. “Darling,” he said in an equally husky tone, “you and Vlad have to read all our reports and check in with Ivan before your shift starts at four o’clock.”

“Then we’ll make it a quick one,” she whispered, clutching his hips and making his pelvis grind against hers; her forest-green eyes sparkled as she gave one of his hard ass-cheeks a light slap. Harry was certain that his face couldn’t glow any more red, but apparently it could when he comprehended her next words. “Harry, you’re welcome to stay…. Join in.”

“I-I—“ he spluttered and shook his head and got to his feet to leave. (It was a testament to how flustered he was that he didn’t even care that his tumescence was blatantly obvious to all when he stood.)

Nick looked over at him hungrily, his gaze lingering on the tent at his crotch, but reigned in his desire and made his invitation politely in a panting— yet still impossibly suave-- voice. “No pressure, Little-Man, but we don’t mind if you only wanted to watch.”

“I— er— no, thank you. Erm, I’ll just go….” He finally got his feet to move and practically fled, ignoring Tiger’s offer to take some porn with him to take care of his boner as she unashamedly removed her shirt.

Taking in some gulping, heaving breaths to calm his racing pulse, he leaned his heated forehead against the front door. He tried to ignore the low rumbling of Nick murmuring and the answering soft, girlish whines as he willed away the aching hardness that had been cemented between his legs ever since they started looking at the smut collection.

He wasn’t as confused by his physical reaction to the anonymous men in the photos, that was to be expected. Charlie said men were ‘visual’ so that was ok. No, it was that his tumescence hadn’t abated at all, even when faced with the women’s attention, but especially over Nick’s photos— and then the man’s presence in the flesh, for the first time since the “unpleasantness”.

He was most disturbed by the thought that maybe Draco Malfoy—of all people-- was attractive (and winced, knowing he could never talk to any of his friends about his suspicions).

If the snotty kid he knew in school had a personality transplant, was more like Nick (once he’d backed off and was platonically friendly), would he catch his eye now that he knew he was gay? Well, he thanked his lucky stars that he was so head over heels in love with Charlie that it wouldn’t make one whit of difference either way if it turned out to be true.

(Plus, he was fairly certain that Draco wouldn’t be attending Hogwarts to finish the final year— would he?! No, he probably wouldn’t, so he’d never be faced with having to make that determination.)

He shrugged and crossed the dirt-paved clearing towards their own cabin, snorting at his perverse ponderings and his hobbling gait. It was a moot point anyway. Although, unfortunately, he was still very much eager to have his man return so he could jump him, ravage him and get his rocks off with the one he loved more than life itself.

He puttered around aimlessly for awhile, but Charlie had still not come home and he was still randy as fuck. His mind kept being drawn back to the men’s bodies he’d just perused and the thought that maybe Charlie might like it if he trimmed his bush. He’d gotten used to seeing the redhead completely denuded down there but he also really liked the look of those that still had hair, just styled in a neat, short kind of way.

Smiling to himself, he gathered a towel and small pair of scissors (no way was he about to attempt such a delicate procedure with cutting hexes from his wand!) and went to the full-length mirror in their bedroom.

He was still half hard, but that seemed to help and he lifted and shifted his bits, snipping and clipping.

Angling his neck back and forth, with eyes narrowing and his tongue steering his actions in the corner of his mouth, he surveyed his work, contemplating his next move in hopes of emulating the special haircut to the best of his ability. He had to snicker softly to himself, knowing he must look ridiculous as he was contorting his body and lifting his legs in ungainly ways. But the end result was worth it, he thought.

He kept his treasure trail as it grew naturally, as it was more silky and fine and lay flat against his belly; plus, his lover took great delight at running his fingers through it, plucking the wild-growing strands before he delved lower. All in all, Harry thought he had fairly well mimicked the tight, defined triangle that he’d only learned of this afternoon.

He’d just deemed his manscaping satisfactory with a few final snips when he heard his favourite sound in the whole world: Charlie’s voice.

“Sweetheart! Are you in here?” Harry’s cock twitched and filled to its final fraction from that loving tone alone.

“In the bedroom!” he called back, grinning sheepishly in the mirror but felt bold and brash to yell towards the door enough to say, “Come here! I gotta show you something!” (He wasn’t sure exactly what pose to display his naked male form in, but settled for his hands on his hips and feet a shoulder-widths’ apart.)

Charlie’s voice, while coming closer down the hall, chuckled, “I know, I know, it looks bigger in the mirror. I--” His speech was abruptly cut off from seeing his gorgeous lover starkers and standing proudly on a towel, toes bathed in an ethereal halo of fluffy black pubes.

(Of course the redhead appreciated the delicious view in front of him-- it was even more drool-worthy than usual-- but he also enjoyed the almost artistic way the angle of his nude body was so that he could see that cute little bum in the mirror behind him. Good Lord, how he wished he had a camera in that moment!)

His prick shot full of blood as he could tell his shy lover was starting to get nervous over his prolonged silence. His young man’s weight was anxiously shifting from foot to foot. The once proud erection flagged a little in his bashful hesitation; quivering hands converged to cup over his bare crotch.

Shaking his head to clear it of dumbstruck muteness, Charlie breathed, “Cuteness….” He crossed the threshold and in two large strides was taking those trembling fingers in his, splaying his arms out to the sides so he could take in his topiary treat up close. “It’s beautiful!”

Harry beamed in relief, twitching when reverent palms brushed over his freshly pruned pubic hair and practically shorn sac. His skin felt more sensitive than usual— was that a result of getting rid of a lot of the hair? He barely had time to think as those thick digits were roaming farther, kneading is ass cheeks, bringing their pelvises to grind their-- one naked, one still clothed-- boners together.

“What brought that on, Love?” Charlie whispered huskily in his ear before he kissed his way down his neck and across his collar bone and then sinking to his knees.

“Ssss….” Harry hissed as that magnificent mouth surrounded by tantalizing auburn bristles went lower and swiped a stripe along the crease where his thigh met his bits.

“Sssserena…. Pictures— AH!” he cried out as his balls were sucked into a warm, wet heat. His whole body jerked at the feeling of being chuckled on with his testicles being tongued at the same time; the turgid length of his cock twitched where it lay draped across the older wizard’s freckled cheek.

He dug his digits into those Weasley-red locks and looked down when Charlie was laughing, his wheezing voice spoke in between licks and kisses along his shaft. “Finally showed *smooch* her stash *slurp*, did she?”

“Yeah,” Harry groaned as he was inhaled to the root and Charlie’s throat was swallowing around his impossibly engorged glans. “Fuck!” The hot breath puffing through those freckled nostrils, ghosting over his crotch was driving him mad.

(Shit, if this was the enthusiastic response he’d get, he would’ve done it sooner!)

Charlie’s rhythm faltered a little while he worked to undo his own cut-offs, yet somehow managed to divest himself of the clothing on his lower half. He abruptly pulled away off the cock he’d been fucking with his face.

Harry let out a disappointed whimper— only to have it replaced with a needy groan as the tattooed man got on all-fours on the floor facing the mirror. With white knuckles fisting the piles of hair on the towel, he begged to Harry’s reflection over his shoulder, “Pleeeeease…..”

The brunet— slack-jawed and awash in physical pleasure— gaped at the beauty laid out before him. The wriggling, meaty ass poised to take him spurred him into action. He fumbled for his wand to prep his lover, but the redhead growled, “I already did them all! Take me, please!”

Harry’s hazy head was confused— when had that happened? Was he so swept away by his own euphoria he hadn’t noticed? Well, he wasn’t about to argue with what promised to be a highly sexually-charged feast.

He slipped in with a force that was aided by Charlie pushing back, impaling himself with his lover’s cock. They both groaned in needy satisfaction. Harry thought he’d never get over the euphoria that was that first blinding jolt.

Soon, he established a rhythm that got rougher by the stab.

His lover was writhing under him, pulling and twisting the hair-strewn terrycloth in his fists, moaning with wanton abandon. Harry yanked up vibrantly inked chest so that his broad back was flush against his own; he desired more than anything to see his lover’s face contorted in pleasure in the mirror’s reflection.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Charlie was panting, his features drawn up in what could either be construed as inward, all-consuming pleasure or outwardly in pain if one was not aware of the present circumstances. Several harsh tugs to his fat shaft rendered the redhead undone. His spurts of semen added to the hirsuteness present the towel under his knees. And Harry found his own climax at that sight-- (As ever, always the odd one that got off on making other people happy).

They pitched forward in exhaustion, in a sticky mess (made worse by the discarded shorn hair from the brunet’s manscaping experiment sticking to spunk and sweat-soaked skin). Eventually, they were able to maneuver into their usual position of lying on their backs, arms and legs entwined, with Harry’s head on Charlie’s shoulder.

Sighing and murmuring words of love as their respiration evened out, Charlie asked if Harry was ready to return to Hogwart’s for his last (made-up) year of schooling.

The sated brunet contemplated that as he stared up into the rough-hewn wooden rafters he’d become so used to over this blissful Summer.

They were due to leave in a couple days, get back to the Castle and settle in before the start of term. Was he ready? He figured it would be nice to go back and be around his childhood friends again all the time— but so much would be such a huge change!

During this last year (well, two if you counted the Horcrux hunt) he’d learned so much about himself. He was in no way the same person he’d been as a student during the sixth year. SO much had changed! Could he integrate into being a pupil once again? Being submersed in crowds again? How would his celebrity status impact his life there?

He didn’t know. Just as he’d NEVER known what the future held.

He’d miss the free and unfettered environment he’d found in Romania, yes. He would miss the easy access to his boyfriend at any and all hours; no hiding, no waiting, no withholding affectionate touches and words in front of others. He would feel the loss of the company of his new caregiver comrades. Yes, there was all of that to get used to.

But Charlie would be there in Scotland with him, teaching the younger years Care of Magical Creatures and helping Hagrid with Blanca, so even though was a major adjustment, it would be all right.

With a deep breath, he reassured his lover. And really believed it. He was confident they would be happy and make it work.

The last fleeting thought he had while they began dozing off was that their bedroom door had been open the whole time while they’d just had wild-crazy-monkey sex on the floor in front of the mirror (and he’d had to heal Charlie’s rug-burns on his kneecaps—as yet another part of the usual clean-up). They’d been oblivious to anything beyond each other. Anyone could have wandered by, come looking for them (for any number of varied reasons)….

And then he grinned. He actually found it funny and didn’t care one whit if they had.

~O~

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that one! And the faster update this time! Like I said, this was almost there, just was getting really long…..
- 21
- 22
- 23
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

WONKY CROSS