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
- 28
- 29
- 30
A/N: Thanks for all the reads rates and reviews!
BAFan: Haha, I’ve wanted to bash the boys’ heads together like coconuts sometimes too, but they can be a little dim about feelings now and then. I also like that you indicate which chapter you are commenting on— it is helpful and much appreciated! As for the (semi) good!Lucius backstory with the diary: I had never seen that explanation with Arthur’s job, but since I posted it, I’ve seen three separate stories that used similar after I did. (And I’ve read WAY too much fanfic beforehand to ever be considered healthy!) Of course, I could have missed it and it could be a chicken-and-the-egg thing/great minds think alike situation. Who knows? In any case, in the end, I was really happy to provide a vehicle to incorporate the whole canon-Arthur-COS thing in the hospital about grilling Ginny over not trusting artifacts when ‘you can’t see where it keeps its brain’. :D
Unneeded, great to hear from you and GOOD QUESTION! I don’t know if anyone knows the answer to that (except JKR). My personal thought is that the Animagus form would stay the same since it is based on personality characteristics but is a physical transformation of the molecules of the body while a Patronus, based on similar factors, is a manifestation of the more ephemeral concepts of heart, emotions and soul. Maybe we would know if Minerva or Narcissa fell into a profound but unrequited love? I wouldn’t be surprised if in this Wonky Cross universe, Hermione will research the phenomenon further during her career. Presently, there just isn’t much data to go on. When more of the Wizarding population learns how to cast ‘Expecto Patronum’-- thanks to Harry-- she can find test subjects in the even rarer demographic that can attain Animagus status. (OR maybe the Unspeakables already know and will tell her that secret once she joins their ranks at the Ministry.)
Paige, Jester and Calmzone1, thanks so much for your kind words—they mean so much! :) (They really, really do…. Your reviews uplift my spirit and inspire me.)
You too, Kimmimaru! Glad you’re still out there. Weird about the ‘Mrs.’ Prefix—I’ve worked with literally hundreds of dogs and never heard that. (But in all fairness, 99% of them were fixed and not in breeding pairs.) Also, the area in which I live, people consider their pets like children, so such an adult status term for a female doesn’t even factor in….
Tsuki: I’m glad you like the story! That is so funny you say that about Draco— you must have some Seer blood (or are hacking into my computer to see rough drafts ;) I hope you will be happy with the chapter after (this that is mostly written). You can happily and justifiably yell out, “I called it!!”
~O~
LIGHT, (part 3)
“You didn’t cry,” Charlie stated while rummaging around for a bottle.
His task was made harder by the dying hearth embers and burnt-low sconces of their Common Room. Neither man made any move to remedy the dimness though; it kept with the somber mood they both found themselves in after their trip to Godric’s Hollow. (Also, the dragon caregiver was surreptitiously, mentally monitoring Harry’s psychological state second by second as well, so he was a bit distracted.)
The redhead’s abrupt proclamation hadn’t been a question.
It was crystal-clear from the charged sideways-gaze he was-- more or less-- patiently hoping for an answer; he’d left it open-ended enough to elicit an explanation of some sort, however brief. (He wouldn’t demand of course, but any little scrap of communication would be most appreciated).
At last, he produced— no matter his obscured vision-- a fairly strong libation from the cool-charmed cupboard and poured them each a measure.
Harry’s eyes had widened in shock at the blunt utterance, unsure at first what his boyfriend meant by that. Was he supposed to weep? Was he a FREAK if he didn’t break down over being in the presence of the graves belonging to the two people responsible for creating his life? Is that what a NORMAL person would do?
He hadn’t shed a single tear the first couple of times either-- although he felt a pronounced constriction in his chest and lump in his throat (that lessened each subsequent visit). Did merely choking up count?
During this year’s trek he felt bolstered by Charlie’s unconditional support and regarded the Hallowed Eve as more of an annual observance, an anniversary to take time out to pay respects and reflect on things. Collapsing and blubbering on the older wizard’s shoulder had actually been the LAST thing on his mind.
(*Sigh* He really wasn’t typical in any way whatsoever, was he?)
“I never do,” the brunet frowned and settled more heavily on his chosen bar stool, “only that one time with you…. after The Shack.” He grimaced and muttered, “Fuck. That was embarrassing.”
He shook his black-haired head and tossed back his drink. Then, he shrugged in nonchalance, holding out his empty glass for an instant refill (which he promptly got). Murmuring under his breath, he elaborated, “I learned early on it was futile. It accomplishes nothing more than increased beatings, chores, lock-downs and ridicule.”
But Harry wasn’t so much thinking of his early training at the hands of the Dursely’s just then:
He was more mulling over the fact that he forced himself not to crumble in Molly’s warm embrace in the hospital wing after Cedric had been murdered right before his eyes and Voldemort had risen again. And when he lost Sirius to The Veil, he let loose by smashing things in Dumbledore’s office, letting his fists fly rather than tears; his usual ‘go-to’ when feeling was sad was to channel it into grim determination and righteous anger.
Even when dealing with Dobby’s death, he’d subsumed his grief and guilt into the physical, manual labour of digging the little free-Elf’s grave. (‘Hallows…. Horcruxes…. Hallows….Horcuxes’ echoed hollowly in the reminiscent recesses of his brain.)
Hermione had once called these dry-eyed reactions of his a ‘defending medicine.’ Or ‘defense mechanic’….no, that wasn’t right…. ‘Mechanism’! Yes! ‘Defense mechanism’! (Whatever THAT meant! She was always spouting off these types of random terms and descriptions that he didn’t understand.)
After the Final Battle, at the funerals, he let a few salty drops fill his eyes. His numb sense of loss of those dearly departed Souls was secondary to having to witness the outpouring of others’ emotions though; watching his friends so desolate and inconsolable was excruciating. But those watery sniffles were it…. mostly he just shoved those unpleasant emotions aside so that he could simply carry on and cope.
Swimming in those ghostly memories, the brunet missed the horrified look on the redhead’s face. He didn’t see how his man was immediately angered at what that vague statement of torment doled out from his Muggle relatives had to mean.
Charlie had always been curious about his lover’s young years, naturally, but any inquiry was always met at best with ‘it wasn’t the greatest’ and a swift change of subject-- or at the worst, the Light-of-his-Life’s premature and abrupt leaving of the room. (Those instances of being completely shut out always stung.)
Though the dragon-enthusiast always wanted to respect that privacy and not push too hard, it had been tough not to insist on a satisfactory quenching to his questions. Hearing about his precious’ pain— however nebulous and hinted at during what should have been innocence in childhood-- was the most difficult of all!
He didn’t like that such a terrible beginning in Life could stiflingly colour all subsequent interactions in Harry’s relationships and social development. Those Muggles made it so his young man never allowed himself to vent his sadness with tears when the situation more than warranted it?
He only wanted to take it all away and hold the brunet in his arms and make everything all right. Sapphire eyes closed tight. Auburn curls shook in negation. Goatee-whiskers crinkled into a frown.
The older wizard was well aware he was ill-equipped for consolation in a major situation like this. Nothing in his tumultuous, yet happy home-life could prepare him to imagine anything but true parental and fraternal acceptance. All he knew was his own family dynamic-- the ultimately incredibly strong Love underneath all the bickering, teasing and authoritarian discipline.
But he sure as Hell wanted to try!
It still made him reel when he realized that his previous, usual casual attitude and total commitment to emotional detachment towards lovers had flown out the window ever since knowing Harry Potter. Now he wanted to be a part of it all-- the good, the bad and EVERYTHING in between. He’d never known it could be possible, but he truly flourished being immersed in this kind of serious relationship!
Charlie had initially been concerned that the young wizard-- so quiet all night-- would clam up and slip into one of those unresponsive states like after the May Second Memorial or the first night they spent at the Dragon Preserve. He struggled to hold his tongue and (successfully) silently bade his boyfriend to go on.
So far, this was very much an improvement over non-communication, so he welcomed whatever reaction might come his way. It could only be considered a triumph. Even if no more information was forthcoming, he promised himself that he would be comfort and unconditional Love for any revelation revealed. Already, even such a small glimpse as this could be counted as a victory….
But the scruffy-haired Gryffinin proved his initial worry wrong by opening up further:
Harry’s bile was blown out by a sarcastic sounding ‘psh!’ and then curled his lips. “I didn’t know them, did I? James and Lily?” Not waiting for an answer, he mused, “I have a…. distant…. connection with them I think,” Harry continued without any overt prodding. He absently rolled his tumbler’s base on the counter’s surface between his palms, becoming contemplative and brooding.
“I grieve the idea of them, not the memory of years with them. I feel sorrow that I didn’t get to know them as people. I wish for what my life might have been like if I’d been raised by them, sure. It’s gut-wrenching when I am forced to relive their dying words and screams by Dementor-induced memories, but it is much more…. a feeling of being apart from it all, just dry words on a page of history.”
(Charlie was holding his breath at finally, FINALLY long-withheld confessions being bestowed upon him!) (If he had a tail, it would be impossible to control and hide his biological instincts to wag despite the seriousness of the situation.)
“I feel more immediate…. Fuck, this sounds bad-- more heart-broken from the loss of Sirius, Remus, Fred and Dobby because they were my very close friends, taking care of me and talking, and just there with me for so long, day in day out….”
(He still lamented Dumbledore’s and Snape’s demises, yes, of course, but there were much more conflicting, clashing mixed-emotions over everything he knew now diluting a pure sorrow.)
(Moody, Tonks, Creevey, Cedric and all the rest of those genuinely good people he’d met but never interacted with much were a stinging loss-- but nowhere near as debilitating and poignant pain as those he’d loved, counted on and appreciated their deep bonds down to the depths of his Soul.)
But James Potter and Lily Evans? He didn’t really have any true memories of them. His speech trailed off and then he asked in a plaintive tone, “Is that terrible of me Char?”
Charlie found his mouth slack-jawed.
He could think it in theory of course, but hearing it now out loud made it so much more tangible! (And made complete sense NOW how the young wizard was so protective of those close him!) He quickly gathered a little bit of wits enough to shake his head to communicate whatever his Sweetness felt wasn’t wrong and then side-ways hugged Harry’s shoulders.
“I never really thought about it that way, like how I’d never known them-- with my great grandparents, or the infamous Fabian and Gideon, or something…. Not the same kind of mourning, I know…. But yeah….”
“Its fine,” Harry wriggled in his grip, pretty much dislodging the man’s arm, practically throwing off his embrace. “I saw them one last time with the Resurrection Stone on the way to my Death. But I don’t know if that was what they were really like in real life or just a figment of my imagination and wishful thinking…. Like the Mirror of Erised….”
Harry gave a slight laugh, noticing-- but ignoring-- the strangled gurgle in the burly man’s Adam’s apple at the totally nonchalant way that was so casually said. (Whatever. It seemed to surprise people he acted that way but that had always been his lot in life— to accept it all, knowing he was unable and powerless to change so many things that befell him. He always just had to roll with it.)
He gratefully took his next refreshed drink and chugged it down. His wheezing through the burn sounded loud to all ears in the quiet room.
The brunet then changed the subject back to the more— alive-- present in order to get them away from all that maudlin crap (that actually felt like it happened a many, many ages ago):
“You know, Ginny was so butt-hurt about not getting to go to any of the fucking “All Hallows Eve” parties together last year that she went off with her main sex-partner while I was dealing with that lot of shit.” The beleaguered bloke gave a small, rueful smile. “I didn’t really need or want her there— not like how I appreciate you going with, of course!” he hurried to explain. “But she didn’t even ask.” (He remembered well Hermione and Ron stepping up in that instance) “Even though she knew I’d never take her up on it, she didn’t even make a half-assed attempt!”
Charlie gulped.
He knew these unspoken social graces well. In polite society—Pureblood Wizarding culture especially-- the gestures and nuances of good manners was just a given! Sure, he joked and kept things light most of the time, but he certainly gave respect where respect was due! It didn’t matter if it was casual or not, but courtesy had to be upheld. His only female sibling didn’t even make a token effort towards an offer of company with something like this?
That was just…. BAD. It reflected poorly on ALL of them!
Heinous! An utterly despicable lack of basic obligation and consideration, especially for a spouse! DISGRACEFUL! A shame to his own flesh and blood for being related to someone who might do something as callous as this! To hurt and wound or abandon a family member over no true offense? NOT COOL! This was not what his World-view was about!
Had he known this was the case, he would have INSISTED on being there last year!
Harry brought him out of his furious thoughts when he snorted mirthlessly. “Just goes to show how she really regarded me. Going off and shagging Demelza during that important pilgrimage? Probably going at it with her the whole time she was roping me into marriage for that matter…. And lying to our family about her intentions and motivations?” As an afterthought, the Gryffinin remorsefully added, “I’m really sorry she hurt your mum and dad because of me….”
At Charlie’s continued silence in his horrified shock— mistaking it for disgust-- Harry begged for redemption:
“Does that sound weird? Was that wrong? That I was more relieved that my wife didn’t care to be there with me at the tombstones? That I didn’t have to refuse some lame, ingenuous invitation? That I was free to do it on my own and not worry about her feelings the whole time?”
“Of course not,” the dragon-handler murmured soothingly once he’d regained his bearings. “Not at all. NOT. AT. ALL.”
“When I walked in on the girls afterwards I didn’t even really care about what they were doing all naked together! What was the matter with me?” Harry whined with self-doubt and acidic recrimination.
He continued with a sardonic snort, “She covered her mistake pretty good by saying it was a ‘nice surprise she planned’, for me to join in. We both knew that we hadn’t made a date for that night at Shell Cottage. But I just turned around, went downstairs and ate a sandwich. When she didn’t come to find me and explain things, I left for home…. mostly wondering where YOU were….”
It was a lucky thing the brunet didn’t see the nauseated expression flit over the second-oldest Weasley’s furry face at remembering what frivolous thing he had been doing on that night when Harry had actually needed him.
“And after the Christmas Eve crap?” Harry bellowed, the alcohol raising its natural volume. “I thought of all sorts of plans to disappear and never once thought of what it would mean to leave a wife high and dry!”
Charlie blanched at the emotion finally coming off Harry but needed to reassure him. “Whatever your reactions were-- or weren’t-- is simply FINE! No matter what!” Charlie’s tone was still hushed but intense none-the-less. He shook his firey curls in sadness and sympathy (but with a dose of vindication that HE was the better person to stand by this magnificent man.)
Thick, sturdy digits traced the brunet’s scruffy cheek gently. “You were only acquaintances with her at that point. And not kindly ones at that.”
Charlie only then realized how much this confession meant.
“You just said it though! You didn’t really care. Not enough to feel jealous, or rejected or betrayed. That means nothing about that marriage was right, from Ginny forcing the engagement to everything else that came to pass. And then she showed through her actions that she never truly cared for your well-being. She only proved to be the horrible, selfish, foolish heart that she is.”
Charlie turned his lover’s head to face him full on and maintain eye-contact. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that and be stuck in that shitty situation for as long as you were.”
The redhead kissed the brunet deeply. He tried to dispel any doubt that whatever the green-eyed man harboured on how to best deal with his beyond-troubling past was more than acceptable through reverent lips and heart-felt affection.
“It’s also NOT your fault that Mum and Dad got burned…. That was all her!” Charlie growled as he nipped his way down that black-stubbled jaw.
The second eldest Weasley needed— very badly right now-- the validation that the Soul-crushing he felt as he watched Harry marry his little sister had turned out for the best in the end.
(Good Lord, how witnessing that ceremony squeezed and squished his heart to a pulp and stomped on it at having to appear happy at that ‘blessed’ union!) (It was still a fervent wish of his that no one look too closely at the reception photos where his agony was inadequately concealed by a poorly constructed—and quickly deteriorating-- drunken mask.)
He was pleased that each of them knew deep in their hearts that it was to BOTH their gain that all crap had occurred. Though it had been torture to endure for both of them at the time, it more perfectly illustrated how great the happiness was now. After all, you can only truly treasure what is most precious to you by realizing there had been a lack of it in the first place.
But it still sucked that there had to be that pain first….
(AND, it floored the redhead all over again how much his beloved had been through and come out the other side such a fully-functioning, averagely adjusted— all things considered-- human being! His capacity for resilience was amazing.)
“I love you, Char. I really, really do.” Harry issued in a breathless cadence, laying his head heavily on the solid shoulder that always gave him a place of safety.   He was suddenly overcome with an all-encompassing glow (that was only a fraction helped along with the several ounces of alcohol he’d consumed so far). NOW he got a lump in his throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful you are…. How much you mean to me.”
Charlie mumbled ‘me too’ and squeezed him tight. The heavily-muscled wizard basked in the fact that his once-skittish stag could now fully confide in him. And that he could claim the right to be exactly where he always wanted to be!
The couple settled back into companionable quiet, sitting side-by-side. The two wonderfully suited (yet seemingly-disparate) men marinated in the mutual acceptance and support they found with each other while they gently sipped from their glasses.
After the second-eldest Weasley gathered his frazzled nerves, he suggested, “Cuteness…. Let’s take the rest of this bottle into our bath. We can relax. I’ll run you steaming water and infuse it with nice, calming herbs-- good for sore muscles. I’ll rub all the chill and stiffness out of your neck and shoulders before we go to bed.”
(There was a pause and some slurpy-wet licky sounds issuing from the entwined lips and tongues of the lovers.)
“Will you really rub out ALL the stiffness from me?” Harry asked in a flirtatious tone-- complete with an impish grin and gleaming glint in his eyes.
Charlie growled playfully and shot back, “I think I can guarantee that I am ready, willing and able to successfully handle whatever may pop up!”
At those waggled auburn eyebrows, Harry didn’t need telling twice.
He grinned and lunged himself into that familiar embrace, grinding his groin a little on his man’s thick thigh as he lustily threw one leg over his lap while standing unsteadily on one foot.
(Charlie thoroughly enjoyed the dilated pupils, eclipsing the too-vibrant irises. An aroused Harry was better than a withdrawn one any day! And to keep them both happy, he needed to pull upon his natural strengths and talents to take things back into a buoyant atmosphere to balance the heavy parts of the evening.)
The Head of Blended House bolted upright and grabbed his young buck by the arm and rasped, “Let’s go before any of them come back from the Halloween party downstairs. We don’t want to be stuck having to make awkward small-talk and have to wait to sneakily get away, right?”
Harry was flattered by the suggestion and deeply impressed by the man’s brilliant strategy. (This was the best solution to avoiding all those pitying looks and attempts at superficial conversation!) “Yes!” Harry emphatically moaned as his lover leaned in beneath his ear and the tongue wandered down his neck. “YES! C’mon….”
Charlie broke off with a gravelly whisper, (and slightly manhandled Harry in this dazed and pliant form.) “Leave your jacket and scarf in here all obvious.” (He fuffled around with one hand, arranging the Winter garments over the stool closest to the front door while still trying to keep up with making out.)
“They will see and know that you made it back all right and Hermione won’t have to bother us with a ‘misty interrogation’ to see if you’ve gotten home safely,” he mentioned while nuzzling his face all over the brunet’s luscious neck. “Yeah? Mmmmm?”
The brunet quickly nodded into the tongue on his collarbone, willing to agree to anything at this moment (yet had to concede that it was an extremely clever cover). “YES! Fuck, yeah. Please, yes!”
“Good,” Charlie breathed heavily into his ear. “I want you all to myself. I want to take care of you now…. You’re fucking MINE!”
“And you’ll warm me up? With some sort of sensual massage?” The green-eyed wizard smirked as he wiggled in delight against that hard-muscled body. “Just make any tears good ones!”
He squealed in surprise (and laughed with no inhibition) when he got an unexpected pinch to his left nipple and was grappled a second later as he’d tried to dart to their room in a race to see who could get there first. His legs jerked, wanting to give a good fight— but those black-haired knees buckled at the resumed, increased fervor of their snogging.
The intertwined pair made their way down the hall to the Eighth-year student’s room, bouncing shoulders and hips off the walls (almost punching each other and the stones at that point with their writhing limbs and grasping hands). Truth be told, there was a lot of teeth and animalistic scratching involved.
(The tugging of hair was good too.)
But it was the murmuring of profound, professed words of undying Love during their heated sloppy kisses that dominated the encounter. Indeed, those were the only things that actually changed the visual of their feral foreplay from being simply the beginning of a fairly decent porno-script to what could have been a scene taken from an epic, passionate, romantic comedy.
(Neither man noticed a certain whale-eyed-- rapidly blinking and barely breathing-- Ex-Slytherin blond bundled under throw blankets, clutching an open book to his chest and pretending to still be asleep on the couch before the waning fire.)
~O~
Harry sat on the closed toilet lid slowly regaining his breath.
He watched in amusement as his man summoned a small leather bag from his adjacent (unused) living quarters and then poured two separate-- pungent yet pleasant— aromatic herbal oils into the filling bathtub. Taking this time to cool his ardor through the wafting steam, the brunet tried to calm his pulse (and the throbbing in his crotch).
He pulled off his boots and socks and then took some deep breaths, waiting to see what his beautiful man had in store for him.
The burly redhead splished a hand through the water testing, mixing it; he turned and smiled when his task was done to his satisfaction. Harry retuned his loving expression as they simultaneously began shedding their clothes. No words were needed. They were both basking in silent, absolute acceptance and a shared agenda.
Charlie, finishing baring his body first, plunked in. Holding out a beefy square palm, the redhead extended his hand up to be held to guide his young lover into their humid pool. Harry readily accepted the invitation. After settling in, Harry was pleased that a Cushioning Charm had been placed all over the porcelain. It felt like lying in bed whilst surrounded by hot liquid.
It was indeed helping to relax him. They stayed still for a while.
Why hadn’t they ever done this before?! It was BRILLIANT!
(Oh yeah. It was probably because they hadn’t had a tub until the Blended House, and even since then, they never really had a chance to bathe in a leisurely fashion. Usually, they only had scant minutes to wash off after some sexy-stuff that made them run late-- and when they showered together, they usually got side-tracked, making them even later in their school schedule.)
The sensual experience was made even more luxurious when his tense shoulders began being rubbed in small circles. Charlie’s strong hands eventually gently brought him to sit cradled in between his open, thick thighs and massaging in earnest when he got the best angle and leverage before him. The puffy pink lips brushing alternately at his temple and ear whispering loving words had him melting into a glob of pliant goo with each adoring action.
Having so many points of contact with skin on skin with the man he loved had him-oh-so-willing for anything more! Any and all pushing and pulling had him flowing with the current tide….
(The stiff length nudging against the top of his crack and lower back had him feeling happy in yet another way.) (The bottle of alcohol that had been perched on the rim within easy reach was entirely forgotten, both preferring the natural high of being intimately together like this.)
Once his spine and neck were thoroughly attended to, Charlie shuffled around, jostling the water into waves, and started in on his calves.
It was Heavenly!
It was made even more brilliant when his feet got the focus of those talented hands. Harry groaned and sank back to rest on the spell-softened edge of their little personal pool.
The kneading into his arches and heels was aided by the slick slide of fragrant soap. The redhead’s manual ministrations were sending blissful jolts of relief throughout his now lax body. Even his organs and bones were loosening in delight (except for one important part that filled its final fraction into complete hardness due to the physical pleasure he was receiving).
Those thick digits caressed and squeezed, lubed by lather in between his toes; it was half ticklish, half indecent indulgence.
After an inordinate amount of time during the overly-thorough washing of his feet, he felt a little bereft at the dunking and rinsing of the suds that seemed to signal the end of the most enjoyable (non-sexual) touching he’d ever gotten.
But Harry’s his eyes bulged open and involuntarily jerked his whole leg in astonishment when his toes were engulfed in an altogether different kind of wet heat.
(It was only a by small miracle from Harry’s sheer dumb-luck that he hadn’t clocked Charlie’s jaw or broken his nose with his unconscious reflexive kick. It was either that or the redhead’s superior Seeker skills, further honed by years of quickly dodging dragons of all sizes. It was probably a combination of the two.)
The larger wizard sucked and slurped obscenely at the younger wizard’s tootsies, holding his ankles in a vice-grip to forestall any other flailing that might injure him. The redhead wiggled his tongue in between the extremities with enthusiasm.
Harry squealed and squirmed, simultaneously trying to flee and yet stay to gain more of the “forbidden” sensation. It was decadent and debauched, delicious yet depraved. It was giving him extraordinary pleasure and he desired it to continue, despite everything telling him it was wrong to want it. He groaned in the back of this throat when he finally gave in to the onslaught.
He didn’t understand how this was feeling so GOOD!
Feet were sweaty and stinky; they were knobbly, odd-shaped, and hairy-knuckled! He’d never considered them in any sexy way at ALL…. Until now. (He felt a twinge of self-consciousness when he realized he never paid much care or attention to keeping up the maintenance of his tough nails.)
Then again-- he had to muse-- he hadn’t thought it would excite him so much those times when Charlie had dug his hands in to wash his armpits either. (Those regions were hairy and smelly too!)
In the beginning, it was odd to consider his underarms an erogenous zone, (though in his typical state of being unusual all over, he dismissed the strange reaction of his body and just went with the wonky arousal). The instances Charlie had scrubbed him there always had titillated him— but then again, it was relatively more acceptable since the man had never put his mouth there! (And the sensual scrubbing could be passed off as related to the more general arousing act of showering together.)
(To be fair, he had thought analingus sounded weird too, when he’d first read about it. But experiencing (especially knowing the area was clean skin-- though again, hairy and potentially sweaty and stinky) the feeling of it made him a big fan of it instantly.
He supposed that his mental justification had been that that particular bit was readily considered and accepted as part of sexual activities. That body part was included in the general grouping of ‘genitals’ and-- as intellectually repellant as ‘mouth-to-ass’ was-- it was still formally covered under the topic of “normal” ‘oral SEX’.)
So. His feet HAD been thoroughly cleansed before Char stuffed his gob full of them…. But still….
Really?   Seriously? FEET? Sucking TOES?!
Clearly the logical, rational side of his brain obviously held no dominion any more over the independent wishes of the penis portion of his anatomy. He was hard as a rock from such an obscure, obscene act! Though, he couldn’t complain when it was pushing him towards an incredible climax.
Harry could hardly believe he was so close to just about bursting from that alone!
Finally, the man brought his feet away from out of his goatee and ended the exquisite torment with a sickening slurpy pop. Harry breathed a sigh of relief (and a little of loss). Charlie’s lips were red and swollen. The redhead grinned at his baffled boyfriend’s blown-away expression, reveling in the harsh panting his ministrations caused (both repulsed by the attraction and bereft the treat was over).
Harry had to smile when his lover took in a mouthful of bath water and swished, then playfully spouted it out like a fountain towards his chest with a wink.
Then Charlie got all serious-looking and brought the Gryffinin’s right foot underneath the water and towards his crotch, steadily moving underneath. Harry’s eyes bugged out and he choked on his own spit as he gasped, writhing in surprise when the pad of his big toe was made to circle his lover’s wrinkled whorl.
A tense second passed. Then the dragon-handler threw back his head and chuckled uproariously-- his belly bouncing-- and took pity on him.
“Hahaha! I was just kidding! FUCK! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” He was still sniggering as he wriggled up to straddling the other’s hips. When the redhead replaced the teasing to his hole with the crown of Harry’s cock he was gifted with another expression on his young lover’s face that he loved so much.
“Fuck, Harry. I want you.”
The big wizard slammed down, impaling and reaming himself on the young buck’s yearning pole.
(Harry wondered yet again, how was it that he got him so entirely distracted that he missed the man doing the prep spells on himself every time?!)
Charlie set a brutal, bouncing pace that chased all other coherent thought away.
They paid no mind to the water violently sloshing over the edge and flooding the floor. That could always be sorted out later. Their combined blinding euphoria overtook all senses (and washed away the too-serious topics of conversation of earlier in the Common Room).
The brunet had no choice but go along with the rambunctious ride.
Again, he was glad for the Cushioning Charm that spell-softened the ceramic under him. (Without them he would be, at best, paying for in bruises to his hip-bones tomorrow-- at worst, have a lovely concussion to show for an incredible shag-session.) (There was the fact that Charlie would have seriously sore knees all-too soon to consider too—and his well-being was more important to Harry.)
Before his green eyes slid shut against the onslaught to his senses, he briefly noted that Charlie’s meaty neck and the under-view of his strong triangular-shaped jawbones-- thrown back in ecstasy-- was reminiscent of a veiny, thickly-stiff dick. It reminded him of the analogous appendage on his lover’s body and that turned him on even more.
The older wizard truly was sex all over! Every last bit of him!
Charlie was artfully swiveling his hips as he fucked with precision. When he ground down, effectively pinning the wiry body under him, it had Harry digging in his heels and gripping the lip of the tub and thrusting up; when he was frantically bouncing up and down— almost pulling all the way out only to return to the base— the energetic action led the brunet to barely-coordinated tugging and pulling on both their nipples and chest hairs.
Too quickly, Harry cried out in sharp, staccato bursts; his orgasm was ripped from his tenuous hold before he was mentally ready for it (and wholly without any sort of physical grasp on his ravenous organ). Charlie followed soon after— grunting and panting-- slumping in the essential-oil perfumed bathwater, adding his own special essence to the mix.
After they sorted out their sated limbs and cuddled up entwined, Harry marveled that he felt so wonderful, like he was floating in a warm, welcoming womb, completely at peace. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Harry liked to think that the few people who knew is parents best would have been able to tell him that the two responsible for his birth would have accepted him and his lover in the same way Charlie’s family had— that they would have been happy for him unconditionally. That they could would know if they could see how content and fulfilled he was at this second.
But they were all dead. He would never know for sure and the point was moot. So he remained mute (and currently incapacitated to attempt speech at the moment). Drowning in such bliss, there was nothing left to say anyway…. and absolutely no energy remained in which to utter it.
But as Charlie tiredly turned the tap to fill in more hot water (that had been boisterously displaced onto the tiled floor by his energetic bouncing) he thought it wouldn’t matter because this Halloween ended up insanely and entirely more satisfying than last years’. He cuddled up and exalted in all the warmth, both physical and emotional. He was positively soaking in it!
Besides an amazing sexual release, there was nothing better than to have opened up, excise some old issues, then still been utterly and unconditionally accepted afterwards….
And been shown in the best possible way that he was Loved more than ever before.
~O~
A/N: Sooooo, it happened again. I had bitten off more than I could chew, trying to handle a too big, unwieldy chapter that had to be cut in half just so I could deal with it….. SUCH a weight off when I made that decision! I had to save what little is left of my sanity after all. ;P Having only five days off (not in a row) for the past eight months will do that to you.
Thanks for any and all who have stuck by this— and in my defense, the next one is mostly done? Hope you come back for the next go…. We have some loose ends of Harry’s journey to self-awareness to wrap up on Christmas Eve!
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WONKY CROSS