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Playing With Fire	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Bill/Charlie Views: 4310 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Playing With Fire
- 1
A/N: Thought I’d challenge myself to some Weasleycest. Always had a soft spot for these two as a
Bill/Charlie was the second fic I ever actually read.
This fits in with DH, set the day and night before the wedding. Please rate and
view if you like. I am unsure of the writing style in this one (but I am all nervy as this is the first thing i've written without either Ron or Severus since I started up again -out of my comfort zone! ;)). Also, about Charlie's hair -I don't know why, but I have always had it in my head that he had curly hair, like proper tight corkscrew 'mass of hair' curls... I thought it was in the books and then I checked GoF yesterday, and it just doesn't say...I have no idea where I got it from :S Either way, I liked him like that, so I kept the curls. Xx

---

Tomorrow, my brother
gets married. Tomorrow I have to put on dress robes in this roasting heat and
be his best man. Tomorrow my heart might as well just stay in bed whilst the
rest of me goes to the wedding. It’ll only end up
wasted by the end like an abandoned half-drunk glass of champagne –flat and
forgotten.

I’m not trying to be
poetic or dramatic, honest. But when it comes to him…

It’s not because it’s
her. It’s not because she’s a French accented blonde stick insect. I’m muscly, whilst I have a gut it’s still toned… Bill liked
that once. The way he’s been looking at me since I arrived today, you’d think
he still might. No. I would have been like this over it being anyone. I’m not
stupid. I know it would never have been me, we’re brothers. As we have never
failed to remind ourselves since I was sixteen.

But just because you
know you can’t have something, it doesn’t stop you wanting it. Of course, you
just want it a hell of a lot more.

***

Charlie sat at the kitchen table, looking disinterestedly
through someone’s Quidditch magazine he’d found lying around the living room.

He loved his family home, but with each return to Romania, with
each month separated from them he felt more like an intruder every time he
stepped into The Burrow. There were chattering voices filling the room; his
mother and Bill discussing something about the wedding, Ron arguing with
Hermione over something he apparently hadn’t done whilst Harry looked between
them with the face of someone who would rather be gouging their own eyes out.

The house was miraculously devoid of one presence that
Charlie had been glad to see leave shortly after his arrival, that of Bill’s
intended who had left to go and do some last minute shopping for their
honeymoon. That switched his thoughts back to the next day and Charlie made a
face at the magazine and closed it, propping his chin up on his elbow and
looking at Bill, who had his back to him.

His hair was loose, falling with absurd straightness to his mid-shoulder
blades. The bright red curtain kept Charlie’s gaze for a moment, as it nearly
always did. He knew what it felt like to run his fingers through that hair, to
wrap it around them and tug. Charlie knew a hell of a lot more about his
brother than the rest of his family could ever understand.

“Yes, you there, staring at the hair,” Molly’s voice cut in
and Charlie jumped slightly, embarrassed to have been caught so blatantly
observing. “You need a haircut.”

“No I don’t,” Charlie gave her an easy smile and shrugged.

“It looks dreadful, Charlie, you’re the best man and you’ll
be in all the pictures.”

“If Bill and Fleur don’t have a problem, Mum, I really don’t
need a haircut.”

Molly didn’t even bother to turn around to Bill for
confirmation. Her first son’s wedding; she was as much involved as he was. Bill
made a grimace over her shoulder at Charlie and shrugged, the ripped skin of
his face looking painful as it stretched.

Thanks, Bill, fat lot
of fucking good you are. He fought away his wince at his brother’s
injuries.

“You can trim it, but its fine, Mum, honestly.”

“You look like a lion gone awry, now hold still.”

Charlie huffed as much of a sulky sigh as his age allowed
without making him look ridiculous and folded his arms over his chest, sliding
down in his chair.

“Don’t slouch.”

“Why, because my awful posture would be in the photos as
well?” He shot over his shoulder and he heard Ron’s hastily snorted laughter.

Nice to know that even
after years apart I can still make him laugh. Charlie shot Ron an
appreciative smile and a wink. His littlest brother was now taller than him and
so like Bill it was quite something to look at. All he needs is long hair and they really could be twins. Both lean
and lanky, Charlie felt decidedly tubby when he got in between them. And I am not tubby. Dragons munch tubby for
dinner. Well-built is the correct terminology.

Consoling himself with that thought
he closed his eyes as he heard the first swipe of the wand and tried not to
flinch at the way his head felt lighter. More swipes, more lightness, like his
head might fall right off his shoulders, and then there was a gasp.

“Oh, God, Mum, what have you done to him?” Ginny’s voice rang out and Charlie’s
eyes flew open to take in his only sister, who was looking back at him in
horror.

“He needed a haircut,” Molly sniffed.

“He didn’t need to be turned into… he’s bald!”

“What?!” Charlie couldn’t help his
vain little yelp. Everybody but his mother liked his hair. Curly, always
shaggy, longer by the year…

“Ginny, no need to scare the poor guy,” Bill laughed as Charlie
flew out of his chair to check his hair in the hallway mirror.

Cut too short to be flattering for his broad face, Charlie
groaned at the brutally short flaming hair which remained to curl in odd shapes
to fuzz and made him look somewhat like a newborn animal.

Well, add re-growth to
my long list of jobs for the afternoon. Fucking wedding.

He didn’t bother to re-enter the kitchen, he headed upstairs
instead, muttering underneath his breath.

***

Throwing open the door to his old shared bedroom with Bill,
Charlie aimed a moody kick at the nearest object, which was the foot of his
bed. It didn’t help. To add to his bad mood his foot started to ache. He
growled and shoved the door shut behind him.

He’d sat through Harry’s birthday dinner, sent astray by the
arrival of the Minister for Magic. And then he’d had to sit through Bill and Fleur’s ridiculously long goodbye as she, her parents and
sister departed to uphold their tradition that the bride could not spend the
evening before her wedding in the same house as the intended groom. And then
his mother had started on about his robes for the next day and then in turn his
burns and scratches, his hair and his shoes. I love her but for Merlin’s sake… she’s the sort of person
silencing spells were made for!

“You’re in a mood tonight,” Bill commented softly.

“I wonder why,” Charlie shot back, stomping to the window;
he threw it open so wide there was a nasty crash as it hit the outside wall of
the house. He muttered a summoning spell under his breath and felt more relaxed
when the little carton of wizard cigarettes zoomed into his hand. He called his
muggle lighter in the same way.

He kept his back to Bill so that he wouldn’t see his newest
bad habit and lit the cigarette out of the window, looking at the dark orchard.

“What’s Mum done now?” Bill asked,
every bit as softly.

“I know she’s nervous but do I look like a bloody
pincushion?” Charlie burst out, sure his voice was
carrying to the garden. Not that he cared.

“Well, maybe if you’d come back a bit earlier she wouldn’t
have had to do everything in a rush, you knew it was Harry’s seventeenth today.”

“Oh, joy, you jump on the bandwagon too,” he took a long,
deep drag and exhaled it with a groan, waiting for Bill to realise quite what
he was doing.

Charlie was surprised that Bill remained sitting on the bed,
as he had been when he’d entered the room.

“Let me re-grow your hair for you,” Bill offered.

“What about the pictures?” Charlie flicked away some ash,
which melted into thin air. God bless
these things. Much better than Muggle Deathsticks and
they taste soooooo good.

“You know you only look right with your hair resembling your
best ‘just shagged’ look, Char, come on,” Charlie could tell that Bill was
probably smiling at his back.

And you know exactly
how I look ‘just shagged’… He chased away the bitter thought with another
drag of cigarette and glared at a select tree in the orchard. Not just any
tree. His tree. The one he had spent half his
childhood up. Fuck.

It seemed the night was written to be ridden with the ghosts
of summers and events past. Forgetting himself, he turned around to throw
himself on his bed.

“Well, that’s new,” Bill commented, his bright eyes
following the path the stick made in Charlie’s hand.

He didn’t reply to him but stayed near the window, keeping
his hand on the window ledge so the smoke drifted out of the window.

“If Mum sees that she’ll murder you,” Bill raised an eyebrow
before getting to his feet. “Can’t deny it though… looks good
on you. Unlike your hair.”

Charlie waited as Bill pointed his wand at his head and then
grew his curling hair back to its previous glory. He felt it tickle the nape of
his neck and shuddered slightly, sending the tight curls quivering.

“Just say no to her,” Bill’s lips were a smirk, his damaged
skin tautening again.

“Like we can all just say no to You-Know-Who?” Charlie
raised his own eyebrow, and then they were both laughing and Bill pushed his
way forward to stand next to his brother at the window. They had a brief
nudging fight for prominence and finally settled with their elbows on the
ledge.

“How many sunsets have we watched like this?” Charlie mused
in a morose tone.

“Hundreds,” Bill’s smile faded, as though he knew where
their conversation, their closeness, would end up.

Charlie couldn’t help himself. He had purposefully stayed
away from Bill all day, bestowing nothing but a brief and perfunctory hug on
his brother when arriving from the dragon reserve at lunchtime. But standing so
close to him, feeling his body heat as their shoulders brushed together, smelling that scent of generic shampoo
and the same old aftershave which lost their universality when worn alongside
the natural musk of his brother’s skin, Charlie could barely contain his
shudder of desire. It had been months.

He reached out and grabbed his hand, causing rough fingers
to entwine. Bill’s palm felt slightly clammy beneath his own.

“New burns?” Bill asked quietly,
reaching over with his other hand to brush over an ugly shiny patch on the back
of Charlie’s hand.

“Yeah, but not from a dragon,” Charlie screwed up his face in embarrassment. “Was camping out watching over a breeder and her nest. Got
up to nip to the loo in the middle of the night, tripped over a rock and shoved
my hand in the campfire.”

“You’re a twat, Char.”

“For once I have to agree with you. Nowt like roasting your own hand.
Surrounded by dragons I do enough damage all by my lonesome.”

Bill snorted. Charlie noticed he hadn’t let go of his hand,
so he stroked his thumb where he could in slow, sensual movements. He knew from
the shift of Bill’s shoulders that the touch was acknowledged and permitted,
but his brother gave him nothing in return.

It continued, until Bill said, “Charlie, I’m getting married
tomorrow,” and tugged his hand away, loping to the other side of their old
bedroom with it stuffed deep in his pocket.

Charlie took another drag off the cigarette and stubbed it
out on the outer bricks of the house before turning around. “No,
really? Fuck, man, congratulations. I’ve not thought about that every
single fucking day since you broke my heart with the news a year ago, no…”

He sat down on his bed and dragged his fingers back through
the returned fiery blaze of corkscrew curls; face tight from his sarcastic
words.

“Charlie…” Bill started to say something in a weighty voice, but then he
trailed off when he lost whatever had buoyed him up enough to start. “Come on,
please.”

Charlie wanted to look up and scoff at his quiet plea, but
despite his bad mood he couldn’t find it within himself to be quite so cruel to
the man he had grown up idolising and somehow ended up loving as much more than
his sibling.

Because you know it’s
wrong, you’ve both always fucking known that. He’s told you enough times.

“I just…” Charlie burst out, raising his hands up and
letting them fall when he couldn’t locate poignant enough words. “It’s just…”

“It,” Bill finished for him. “After tomorrow… that’s it
for…”

“Us.”

Charlie gave a little smile then, as they finished each
other’s sentences like Fred and George, and he leant back against the wall, his
eyes trained on the yellowing ceiling of the room long overdue for the
attention of a paintbrush. He felt the mattress dip down next to him and then
felt Bill’s warmth pressing into his shoulder once more.

Absentmindedly Charlie scratched his wrist through his
long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing despite the heat and cursed when Bill
reached forward and grabbed it. He pulled the material back so it bunched up
around Charlie’s forearm and revealed the new tattoo that was barely a week
old.

“Another one?” He raised an eyebrow
and looked sideways, not releasing the wrist.

“Yeah,” Charlie grinned. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s… in a really obvious place, Mum’ll
go postal.”

“What makes you think Mum’s going to see it any time soon?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “I’m not Ron,
you know.”

“Hey, be nice,” Bill muttered. “He’s grown up a lot. Maybe
if you were around more often you’d see just how much.”

“Oh back to this again, I see.”

“We miss you.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you decided to get a desk job. You
could have helped the Order in Egypt
you know. We saw each other all the time then.”

“Like hell, they weren’t interested,” Bill snorted. “And anyway…”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Charlie said
sullenly, knowing exactly what his brother had been about to say, about Fleur
and being close to her.

“We just miss you, you know. You’re so far away and you
never come home any more…”

“Well Merlin’s balls, is it really so hard to figure out why?”

“Not for me. For everyone else it’s a bit of mystery.”

“Well, after tomorrow it won’t matter, will it?”

Charlie let his eyes shut as he felt the familiar beast of
anger unfurl in the pit of his stomach, he concentrated on fighting it down, and
all the while tried to ignore the way Bill had hold of his wrist. So fucking tenderly. Bastard.

His eyes flew open when he felt the sensation of kisses
caressing over his new and still relatively itchy tattoo and groaned when he
saw the upturned inked flesh pressed into lips that he wished were on his own.

Wondering what his brother was playing at when there was the
definite flick of a damp tongue against his skin, Charlie couldn’t open his
mouth to stop him. He was well aware that if anything was going to happen
between them again, that night in their old childhood bedroom was the only time
it could. It was to his great disappointment that Bill suddenly seemed to
freeze and dropped the wrist from his grip, a slight flush over his scarred
cheeks.

“Your hands stink of cigarette,” he commented weakly, and
then leant back on the wall alongside Charlie.

Charlie didn’t reply but re-covered his arm and set his
fingers to worrying with the bottom of his shirt instead, an action which Bill
only permitted for a few minutes.

“Stop, Charlie.”

“What?” He asked defensively.

“You do that when you get all dark and twisty.”

“I do not get dark and twisty,”
Charlie scoffed.

“I reckon a Legilimens in your head would prove pretty
interesting,” Bill muttered. “Where’s Snape when you need him, eh?”

“Like I’d let that slimy bastard in my brain.”

“Funny, when we were at school you seemed pretty interested
in letting him in your pants…”

“Only you could throw a teenage crush back in my face,
tonight of all nights,” Charlie grinned.

“Well it was a pretty horrendous crush, even for you. And
you couldn’t even be in the same room as him at Grimmauld.”

“He was imposing.”

“He’s greasy.”

“He’s interesting.”

“Well now he’s a fucking murderer, too, so you never make things easy for
yourself, do you?”

Bill’s final comment closed the banter and Charlie
swallowed, thinking on the words. “No, guess not. You, him…”

“Anyone at the reserve?”

“There might be.”

“A bloke?”

Charlie hid his smile at the jealous note in the question. “Yeah. Tall, blonde, blue eyes, tanned.”

There was definite annoyance in the way Bill folded his arms
over his chest and crossed his feet at the ankles as they drifted onto the
floor.

“I swear you get fucking taller every time I see you,”
Charlie’s eyes followed the lean legs and then trailed back up again.

“And I swear you add another five muscles to your repertoire
and your tan gets deeper, and your smile…”

“Been thinking about me a lot, huh?” Charlie teased.

“Yes,” Bill answered, his honesty
painful to hear.

“I have something else new,” Charlie said quietly, looking
out at the dark sky through the open window.

“What?”

“Not the sort of thing you just whip out I’m afraid, you’d
have to go exploring.”

“This isn’t leading to a treasure hunter joke, is it?” Bill asked warily.

“Maybe.”

“You’re full of bollocks, Char.”

“I know,” he laughed, shaking the bed with his mirth.

“So what is it?”

“I’m not telling, you can look if you want, though,” Charlie
waved offhandedly at his crotch and he saw the frown deepen on Bill’s face.

“Oh, God… you’ve not…?”

Bill’s long fingers were fiddling with the button of
Charlie’s jeans before more words were got out, but Charlie stopped him,
yanking his wand out of his pocket.

“Let’s lock the door, shall we, before you whip anything out of there?”

“You’d think after all these years I would have learned,”
Bill rolled his eyes at himself.

“Especially living in this fucking house,” Charlie muttered
and flicked his wand, thinking of hundreds of disturbed gropes and wanks. They had always remembered to lock it for anything
further, though. “You’re good to go, just don’t shout at me.”

Bill flashed him an amused glance and resumed his
exploration, sliding down the zipper. Charlie closed his eyes and took a deep
breath as warm fingers brushed against his growing arousal and tried to remain
his usual tanned colour instead of giving way to the healthy blush bursting to
break out over his cheekbones. He felt the elastic of his boxers lift away from
his belly and steeled himself for what could be a drastic reaction, but all
that he heard was the sharp intake of breath which then quickened slightly.
Charlie shouldn’t have noticed how intimately his brother’s breathing pace
changed, but then, as he felt the fingers creep down into his groin, he knew
there were a lot of things he shouldn’t have done.

Like telling him about
this because I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist his curiosity…

“Fuck, Charlie, doesn’t it… hurt? Doesn’t it make it
difficult?”

“Well it’s not like I’m the most prominent top in the world,
is it? I’ve not tried,” Charlie replied quietly. “But trust me, everything else
is amazing.”

He couldn’t fight down his groan as Bill’s fingers worked
the curved bar through the tip of his cock and he was instantly and pulsingly erect.

“Now look what you’ve gone and done,” he gave a tut.

“That’s… responsive.”

Yep. That, Bill, is my
ticket to hell well and truly booked. Charlie loved that breathlessness in
Bill’s voice more than life itself. And it didn’t matter; it wasn’t as if he
believed in hell anyway.

He finally opened his eyes and caught the lust lurking
around the blue eyes staring down into his crotch. He couldn’t help the smile
which blossomed onto his lips.

“You seem rather taken with it?”

“You could say.”

“Well you should probably take your fill,” Charlie snorted.
“We both know after tomorrow you won’t look twice because you’re just so
fucking loyal.”

“I’ve done a lot in my life but I refuse to add adultery to the list,” Bill let
the elastic of Charlie’s boxers go and it smacked with a loud pinging sound
onto his erect cock, nudging the piercing.

“Ow, fucking hell Bill, seriously?” Charlie’s hand
protectively covered the area for all the good it did.

“I’m sorry,” Bill murmured earnestly. “But if you can look
me in the eye and tell me you didn’t show me that on purpose to get a rise out
of me, then I won’t marry her.”

“You’re a bastard,” Charlie sulked childishly, but lowered
his eyes to the dark-jeaned crotch. “At least I got the rise I wanted, mind.”

Bill gave him a disparaging glare and rolled back off the
bed, dragging himself upright with a flurry of red hair as it moved with him,
sliding over his shoulders. Charlie swallowed as he watched it again, longing
to curl his fingers into the silk. And then Bill turned to face him and his
eyes were occupied by the extremely prominent ‘rise’ squashed up the front of
the black jeans.

“This has to be the most fucked up stag night ever,” Bill
exhaled and Charlie watched as his brother let his face fall forward and let it
land in his hands. He did not look up again.

“Bill, you were the one that wanted to stay here. I offered
to take you out…”

“And you didn’t fight very hard to convince me otherwise, did you Charlie?” the
voice was hoarse as he spoke.

“Alright,” Charlie pushed off the bed and stood in front of
him. “I already know I’m the worst best man in the world, fucking the groom who
just happens to be his brother, you don’t have to make me feel any bloody worse
about it.”

He reached forward and put his hands on Bill’s shoulders,
causing him to look up and find they were only centimetres apart. So close up
his injuries looked even more horrific and whilst Charlie loathed her on
principle, he had to give Fleur her dues, thinking on how many people might
have run away from someone so handsome massacred as Bill had been.

“I know, right, hideous?” Bill gave him a humourless laugh.

“No,” Charlie tilted his head slightly to the side. “No, not to me. And clearly not to her either.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why she stayed,” Bill admitted sadly.

“Because you’re so fucking great you’ve got everyone lusting
after you,” Charlie slid his hands down the back beyond the shoulders,
surprisingly broad for such a lanky man. The space between them was breached
and they stood body to body.

“Even people that really shouldn’t,” Bill whispered,
bringing his own arms up to encircle Charlie’s waist.

“Yeah well. Life’s shite like that, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wish you weren’t my brother.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows, thinking on all the times that
he had thought those words, shouted them on his own and maybe even whispered at
the height of the moment. But it was the first time Bill had ever actually
committed to the words.

“What would have happened between us if I hadn’t been? If
I’d just been some kid in Gryffindor you thought was pretty?”

“You’d never pass for pretty,” Bill jibed.

“Fuck off.”

He heard the gentle laugh and smiled his own smile.

“I would have probably spent my last year wondering how to
approach you.”

“Not easy being a bisexual Head Boy, eh… God, I just love the amount of head
jokes that gave me. Real shame Fred and George were too young to appreciate
them, they would have had a field day.”

“Mm, don’t share them any time soon, will you?”

“Maybe. Might prove some
entertainment for the reception.”

“That’s why I booked a band,” Bill answered him sardonically.

“Who the fuck am I going to dance with?”

“I hear Aunt Muriel’s looking for a date… Ron’s busy this year, see.”

Charlie thumped him hard on the arse and Bill laughed again.

“When’s he going to snog Hermione
and have done?” Charlie mused.

“God knows. He’s so obviously in love with her.”

“Don’t know why, she’s so bossy.”

“I think he likes being told what to do.”

“Lazy bastard.”

“Still, it’s not like with five older brothers and a mother
like ours the poor kid’s ever had a chance to think for himself, really, is
it?”

“I suppose you’ve got a point. Anyway.
Can we stop talking about our man-boy brother and get back to where we were
before?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“Which was where?”

“Your hand in my pants.”

Bill pulled away with a sigh and licked his lips nervously.
“Look, Charlie, I can’t… I can’t have this be my memory of my stag night. I
can’t have you be that memory. It’s too much.”

“Would you prefer being stripped and tied to a lamppost in
the village utterly smashed and left to greet the sunrise? Because believe me,
Bill, because I could be persuaded,” Charlie muttered and turned back to the
window, his hands reaching to pull up his jeans which had slipped down over his
hips a little.

He was fighting to get the button done up again looking out
over the garden when the warmth pressed into him from behind and then hands
batted his away. Fingers laced through his own and
then the lights in the room wordlessly extinguished and they plunged into
darkness.

“Just in case anyone’s taking a late night stroll in the
garden,” Bill’s hot whisper made him shudder.

Charlie’s jeans slipped back down again but neither of them
reached to pull them back up. Bill kept their fingers together and wrapped his
arms around Charlie’s waist again so that he was forced to hug himself. Warm
lips pressed into the skin of his neck.

“Thanks,” he murmured quietly, keeping his eyes out on the
garden.

“Barely started,” Bill kissed again, a little sloppier and Charlie felt the
distinct graze of teeth over his flesh.

“You’ve got no idea how happy that makes me to hear.”

Bill let one of his hands go and then groped it over the
present but still toned belly to make his fingers prick at underwear elastic
once more, only to have them graze against protruding soft flesh.

“Jesus, it’s like it never sleeps.”

“Just because yours is flailing with old age doesn’t mean mine is,” Charlie
smirked out to the darkness, biting down his addition that it was probably
because it was faced with a female for the rest of its life.

“Watch who you’re calling old,” Bill muttered lowly in his
ear and a shiver passed down Charlie’s spine.

He turned then, and Bill pressed him back into the
windowsill while they met for their first kiss of the night, eyes closed, noses
brushing together before Charlie submitted and tilted his head back slightly
whilst a hand crept into his hair to support the back of his skull. And there
was tongue, soft, warm, wet, massaging against his own. Charlie wondered if
Bill was overcome with the same thrill as he was -the thrill that they were
standing there, kissing, even when it was completely wrong, with the whole
house around them completely unaware.

Well I fucking hope
they’re unaware, anyway…

“Mm Char…” Bill was properly ravishing his mouth and
Charlie’s chest flooded with warmth at the realisation that he hadn’t been the
only one to take the long months since their last meeting hard. “Why aren’t you
kissing back?”

Charlie blinked. “What?”

“You’re standing here like a wet fish… looking like one too.
Don’t tell me now you’ve got me all hard you’re backing out?”

“When have I ever backed out?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Bill looked at him for a moment before a smirk blossomed
onto his lips, and then he grabbed him by the upper arms and threw him sideways
onto his old creaking bed, and jumped on top of him.

“Christ, you’d think a werewolf attack might take the spring
out of your step for a while,” Charlie groaned, reaching up to rub his head
where it had smacked into the wall.

Bill shut him up with a rocking of his hips and another
devouring kiss. Charlie stretched beneath him before settling his hands on his
back and finally beginning to kiss in return.

It wasn’t the frenzied kissing he expected –it was rough,
deep and full of huffing nasal breaths because their mouths were full of each
other, but there was a practiced slowness about it which was every bit as
erection-inducing as how he’d predicted the night might go. There were fingers
assaulting his pierced nipple through his t-shirt and even Bill’s weight on top
of him was contributing to how sensual Charlie felt.

“I wish…” he muttered, “You were…” Bill was trying to remove
his tonsils, Charlie was sure, “Mine… kissing…so… good…mphf.”

“You’ve had me for years,” Bill pulled up. “Surely it’s time
to share?”

“Never,” Charlie grabbed hold of him with both arms behind
his neck and yanked him back down, crashing their lips together, injecting the
frenzy they’d been missing.

The sudden urgency of it threw him back into recollections
of hasty kisses, springing apart when they were stupid enough to kiss somewhere
like the larder or in the bathroom, never being caught but almost. The summer
air drifting in through the window wasn’t helping, either, making him remember
days of lying in long grass hiding from family, domestic duties around the
house and most of all, reality.

“Charlie, you’ve stopped again,” Bill whispered. “Seriously,
what’s the matter with you?”

Swallowing, Charlie looked up at him with clouded eyes. “Too
much riding on it, I think. I know this is the last time and I can’t stop
thinking. My brain won’t shut off.”

“I can remember a time,” Bill said quietly, twirling a curl
about his finger. “When you’d be so blown away by me that you still couldn’t think the next morning…
let alone during.”

“What’s the matter, upset?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Well… guess it’s your own fault,” Charlie let his head fall to the side
as he looked out to the darkened bedroom.

He heard Bill sigh and then felt the weight of his forehead
pressing down into his collarbone, which his brother then kissed.

“Shall we go to the pub?”

“No,” Charlie sank a hand into his hair. “No. I don’t want
to share you before I have to.”

“Fucking sap,” Bill muttered.

“What else am I going to be?”

Bill didn’t answer and they fell to silence, each listening
to the other’s breathing and the sounds of the night garden beyond the window.
Somewhere in the house there was a loud bout of laughter and a crash, followed
by an angry shout.

“Mum’s going mental over everything, huh?” Charlie asked
quietly.

“Oh yeah. You’d think it was Ginny
getting married.”

“Well you’re her Golden Boy, of course she’s uppity.”

“You’ve not said that for a long time…” Bill commented
questioningly.

“I’m not bitter, promise,” Charlie gave a smile that his
brother couldn’t see.

“You know the twins and Ron probably feel the same way about
you, right? When you’re not here Mum never shuts up
about you. I think Ron was thinking of coming over there and dragging you back
manually if you didn’t turn up soon.”

“He should have, I’d love to get some time with him.”

Bill suddenly went very quiet and Charlie sensed he’d said
the wrong thing.

“Is that because he looks like me?”

“Are you suggesting I’d invite him over to seduce him?”
Charlie asked in disbelief.

“Not really, passing thought, sorry.”

“He’s Ron for fuck’s sake. Can you just imagine the look on
his face?”

“It might be worth it just for the picture we’d get out of
it…”

Charlie laughed but stopped with a deep breath. “No, Bill.
After you… never looked twice at any of them, and why should I? Normal blokes
don’t fuck their brothers.”

“Well, don’t know about you but I’ve always been a bit suspicious of the
twins.”

“They’re twins, it doesn’t count. And anyway… we were…well.
It’s not like we did it on purpose.”

“No, you just offered yourself up to me on a plate when I
said I was trying to figure out if I was gay or not,” Bill snorted.

“And I maintain that was better for you than finding someone
random…”

“It was better because of what we got out of it…”

“Which all ends tomorrow,” Charlie finished glumly. “Look,
sorry to be such a miserable bastard. You’re getting married tomorrow. That’s
huge. I should be happier.”

Bill looked at him properly then with a sad little smile on
his ruined face. “You wish she’d left me.”

“Don’t provoke me into saying things you’ll only hold
against me,” Charlie closed his eyes so Bill could glean nothing from them.

“I understand, you know,” Bill stroked his face gently.

“Do you?” Charlie’s eyebrows rose, making his forehead line
with the effort. Frowns and surprise were two things that very rarely crossed
his features. He was the smiling, easy-going one of the family -on the outside.

“You’ve bitched about it enough times…my heart this, my
heart that… wah wah wah.”

Charlie didn’t have to open his eyes to see the teasing grin
on Bill’s face and he couldn’t help but laugh too. “You make me sound like a right
whinger.”

“You are.”

“Only for you.”

“Only because nobody else would listen.”

“And that’s the point really, isn’t it?”

Bill replaced his forehead down on Charlie’s shoulder and
fell silent again, leaving the younger redhead to his thoughts.

Great. We’ve got a few hours and we’re wasting it
fucking talking. Mental. I’ll regret this in the
morning. And if we do what I want he’ll regret it. This is fucked. So unbelievably fucked.

“I want you one last time,” Bill’s voice was suddenly in his
ear and then he followed the velvety words with a lick and Charlie couldn’t
help his shudder.

“Have me then, but I can’t promise I’m going to be much.”

“You’re everything,” Bill snapped.

“Not anymore,” Charlie replied pointedly.

Wondering if that might finally break his brother into
stopping, Charlie was surprised when he simply kissed downwards through his
t-shirt.

“Overdressed,” Bill muttered.

“Ah no, come on, Bill, someone might want us-” Charlie had
absolutely no idea why he was protesting, and anyway it was clearly futile
because a second later Bill had waved his wand and his body was assaulted by
the cooling charm in place in their bedroom.

He looked up and saw Bill staring somewhat wolfishly down at
his naked body, eyes gleaming. Fingertips brushed over the dragon tattoo, his
first ever at the age of eighteen, which curled over his hip with strategically
placed fire tendrils from its nostrils pointing towards his groin. The fingers
then scrabbled across deep red curls until they reached his now-adorned
erection.

“I like that better than I ever thought I might… what made
you do it?” Bill breathed, his eyes fixated on the metal bar.

“Mr. Blonde, as we shall call him, dared me to do it. I
don’t back down from a dare and hell, the rewards have been fucking amazing.”

The next thing that happened was that Bill wrapped his mouth
around the pierced head and Charlie had to shove his knuckles in his mouth to
stop from moaning as the wet tongue drenched his pierced skin. Moaning in
surprise at the reaction, Bill took it in his hand and set to massaging the top
properly with his lips.

In the way he knows
just drives me fucking mad. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Pressing up with his hips Charlie
wanted more of the heat but as ever he was denied as Bill flashed him a look
telling him to quit pushing.

“Gods, Bill, please…”

He never could resist
me begging for him… Charlie smirked in satisfaction as the tongue returned
and flitted around the metal ball protruding from his slit. A groan escaped
before he could stifle it and he felt the fluttering air escaping from Bill’s
nostrils as he laughed at his desperation.

“Bastard,” Charlie hissed.

Bill pulled off, keeping his lips firm. “You can’t lie to me;
I know that nearly had you then.”

“Sodding
know-it-all.”

“What was that?” Bill reached out for the end of the bar and
gave it a little tug, and Charlie couldn’t help the way his breath juddered at
the sensation and his hips pressed up into the air to keep it from pulling too
much. “Very fun this new toy, isn’t it?”

“Sadistic bastard.”

“You used to like that, once upon a time.”

“Call it experimentation and let go,” Charlie hissed through
clenched teeth, the sensation beginning to sting.

Bill did as he asked but bent again and lapped around the
areas he assumed he had hurt with his cruelty. Charlie couldn’t deny that he
had guessed correctly as he shoved his knuckles back in his mouth and bit down
on them, trying his hardest not to cry out but the groan rumbled in his throat
anyway.

“Don’t fight it,” Bill whispered up, and then took the head
in again and properly sucked.

Fight it? How?! How
could I possibly fight this you stupid ginger twat?! “Oh godddddd!”

“Shh,” Bill mumbled with a
mouthful of dick and his tongue nudged the bar.

Charlie gave up and looked down between his legs, seeing
flowing red hair falling onto his thighs as the head there began to bob up and
down, the wet vacuum on his arousal pushing him to a near state of madness when
he knew he couldn’t shout his pleasure.

He swallowed, hard, and thought back to the many times in
the reserve when Bill had visited. And they had had a glorious apartment all to
themselves with nobody to care if there was a grunt or a moan, or even better -a
hoarse yell or scream on completion. Images of a log fire in the cold Romanian
night, a bottle of vodka and continued nudity floated in his mind’s eye and he
groaned just at the thought of them, and then there was a slurping suck and he
flew half-upright, locking his arms out straight behind him as he watched his
cock slide fully into the assaulting mouth.

He resorted to thinking his filthy appraisals.

Ohhhh fuck yeah… suck it down, Bill… that’s it…
all the way… lick it… FUCK! AH.

Yessss. Oh God… oh… oh… shit…
shitshitshitshit noooo…

Too late to stop, his orgasm had already grabbed him by the
balls and yanked, and he threw his head back, biting hard on his bottom lip as
he made tortured eyes at the ceiling when his climax spiralled, wrapping around
his cock from the base up, and flooded Bill’s mouth. He couldn’t help the gasp
which fell out of him when he heard his brother’s groan at drinking him down.

Son of a whore knows
what that does to me… the thought he enjoys it… fuck…

He whimpered at the thought that he had probably just
received the last blow job he ever would from the lips which could work him
like no other.

“What?” Bill asked, sitting up and licking his lips. “Did I hur-”

“God, no,” Charlie realised his voice was cracked and he
coughed slightly and swallowed, hoping to ease his suddenly tight throat.

He shivered in the cooling spell and fell back down on his
back, hitting the bed with a loud ‘whoompf’ sound
from his chest. His tattoo itched as it hit the blanket he was laying on. He
closed his eyes and waited for the next question.

That was the last
ever. Ever. Fuck.

Charlie knew he was stupid for letting that realisation hit
him only then. He should have been preparing for it all day, he realised, but
he simply had not, focussing on his energy for the wedding and getting through
it. Not what was to come beforehand if he got his way.

He felt the bed dip as Bill lay down on his side next to him
and suddenly his clothes were back. Without invitation he too rolled onto his
side and buried his face in his brother’s neck, letting the long hair cascade
over his face. He breathed in the scent and willed it to calm his blood, though
it did little good.

Feeling a large hand stroking his back gently, Charlie
squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block off what was thrumming through his
bloodstream –a hideous cocktail of jealousy, anger, sorrow and desperation. As
it peaked he reached up and grabbed a handful of the ginger silk and tugged as
hard as he dared. Bill didn’t even comment, he just continued to stroke.

The moment began to wane and Charlie relaxed the muscles he
wasn’t aware he had clenched. It always
waned, but the point was it always came back again.

“Did you think I would be alone forever?” Bill asked him
quietly. “Did you think that I’d never fall in love?”

“No,” Charlie muttered. “I’m not an idiot, Bill. I knew we were… playing with
fire.”

“But it never stopped you wanting it.”

“It never stopped you either,” Charlie said bluntly. “And you’re the one who
just…”

“I know. But you have other partners, Char…”

“I’ve not married any of them!”

“Because blokes don’t often get married.”

“That’s just what it comes down to right? I’m the full whack
of gay and you’re just half-hearted.”

“Even if I was… how would we ever have worked it, Char? You
know what we are… blood.”

“It’s not as if we’re fucking to produce messed up kids, is
it?” Charlie muttered. “It’s…”

“If you’re about to say different for blokes, I’m not sure
Mum would see it that way, or Ron…”

“Well no, but if you’re right about the twins he’s the only
boy still in contact with the family not
having an incestuous relationship with a sibling.”

“Do you think I like the thought of never touching you
again?” Bill realised his voice had risen and lowered it; it only made his next
words sound filthier. “Never tasting
you again?”

“Well, you’re the one getting married, Bill, so I guess I
have to confess I’ve wondered… there were easier ways to say it if you were
trying to get rid of me.”

“Don’t be a knob,” Bill groaned and Charlie, even though his
face was still buried in Bill’s hair, could see the pained look which would be
on his face. “Charlie…”

“Are you going to be fucking me tonight or should I go
downstairs and sleep on the sofa?”

Bitter,
so bitter. You’re a fucking
bastard.

“That depends on you…”

“No, Bill, it depends on you,” Charlie replied with a
swallow.

“I need you to ask me,” Bill’s voice lowered to a desperate
whisper and the clutching on Charlie’s back became hard to the point of
discomfort.

Because if I ask him
he can console himself when he feels guilty in the morning that he did it for
me.

Charlie knew he should say no and walk away, retreat to the
bottom levels of the house, pretend to read a book and sleep where he sat on
the sofa.

“Where do you want me?”

Good thing you don’t
believe in hell.

“I think the window…” Bill muttered.

“Are you mad?”

“Probably.”

Charlie snorted and rolled backwards until his feet touched
the floor. He pulled out his own wand and got Bill back for the naked favour
he’d paid him earlier. This time he could not hide his wince as he saw the
further damage to his brother’s body. Alabaster skin was blotched with red
scarred tissue, mainly on his throat, right shoulder and ribs. It was so
shocking to see that for a moment Charlie forgot what he was there for, what he
had been asked.

“I want to rip that bastard limb from limb,” he hissed,
choking on the end of it, and he turned and threw his hands down on the
windowsill so hard his palms stung. He took a few pacifying gulps of air but it
was too balmy outside for any comfort.

He felt his own clothes melt away again and then warm hands
slid forth over his hips, one covering the dragon tattoo completely as it came
to a rest.

“I don’t care, I lived.”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing there was a
monster out there that actually enjoyed doing that to me…”

“I doubt any of us are getting much sleep at all, Char. You
don’t get the brunt of the war out there. We do.”

Charlie merely shrugged and fell silent, ignoring the jibe
about his life far away, fixing his eyes on the trees again; half-hoping
something might appear in one of them that warranted investigation so that he
could leave the room and never look back.

But the very prominent erection pressing into his backside
told him he’d never actually do it, he wouldn’t leave at that point just to
ease his conscience.

“Silencing spell?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Already done it.”

“Please don’t tell me I could have howled through that blow
job?”

“I like seeing you all tormented.”

A hand wrapped around his cock again and slowly stroked,
teasing it into fullness once more.

“You’re right, maybe yours is more responsive than mine…”
Bill smirked in his ear.

“Well at least I’ve got something going for me, right?”

The hand disappeared then and he waited, knowing what it was
doing when he heard the bedside drawer open and the contents be rummaged
through.

“Oh, well, at least nobody’s pinched it this time…” Bill
commented, not bothering to shut it again as he found the tube.

“I wish we knew who that was,” Charlie grinned up to the
stars, but his words were cut off when Bill slid a finger into him without
warning.

“I thought you said there was someone at the reserve?”

“There is,” Charlie swallowed.

“But you’re so… tight… it’s like you’ve…”

“Some people do this thing called dating, Bill, where you don’t sleep with
someone the first night you see them?”

“She’s part Veela!” Bill groaned. “What would you have
done?”

“That should be… ah… obvious!” Charlie grunted, shifting his
hips with pleasure.

A second finger joined the first and not for the first time
in his life Charlie wondered just how his brother had been blessed with such
long fingers. The third crept in and then he was fighting down his gasps,
closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. And just as he was pushing back,
trying to get more, there was a sharp rap on the door.

Both of them froze.

In fucking YEARS
tonight is the one night someone actually knocks on the fucking door during
THIS.

“Charlie?”

Oh fuck and it would
be me they want an answer from, standing here impaled with fingers up my arse.

“He’s asleep, George,” Bill called back quietly. “Tired from travelling.”

“Oh, okay. I was going to offer to re-grow his hair.”

Bill flexed his fingers cruelly and Charlie lurched forward,
fingers scrabbling at the windowsill as his mouth hung open in a noiseless
moan.

“I already did it.”

You fucking whore…
Bill’s free hand had stroked over his balls as he spoke.

“Alright then, night!”

“Night,” Bill called back, and then he waited until his
footsteps had faded away before pulling his fingers back and beginning to
plunge in and out with them, driving Charlie to an almost state of madness.

“Fucker,” he gasped, thrusting back properly, widening his
stance.

“Quite literally,” the fingers were gone and replaced with
something much fuller and thicker, hands were on his hips and then Charlie lost
reason.

“Fuck more,” he thrust back and sank Bill into him at a
faster pace than the taller redhead had been allowing.

It was awkward, because of their different heights, but they
had had enough practice. Charlie lowered his spine parallel to the floor and
thrust backwards and up; Bill grabbed his pelvis properly and held it there,
before breaking into a hard rhythm, much harder than they were used to.

Charlie didn’t complain. He stood and took every push and
fought hard to keep his encouragement in. Even with the silencing charm, he
never trusted them enough to let himself go in their family home.

Bill dripped kisses over his back through his panting,
licking up over the tattoo of etched words in the centre of his spine.

Charlie sensed the change then in the body behind him, it
became slightly stiff as it jerked in and out of him. And what’s more, Charlie
knew what it meant –that his brother was already there, dancing on the edge of
climax and for whatever reason, was struggling and holding it in.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, as a hand wrapped around
his dick again and jostled the metal bar.

Bill didn’t answer but kept up the reserved pounding and
stroking. Charlie panted his frustration to the floor but managed to push back
off the ledge, levering his body up. Bill rose with him without complaint.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again.

Suddenly Bill pulled him up the rest of the way and they
were standing together, joined by the pillar of flesh buried deep inside
Charlie’s body, open to anyone who cared to look up at the window.

“I can’t,” Bill muttered in his ear.

“Well you are,” Charlie grunted as the fingers still manipulated his cockhead.

“No, I mean I can’t… this can’t be the last time…”

The hoarseness of the tone tickling Charlie’s ear told him
that he was presented with his chance to be a martyr once more.

Holding on because you
don’t want it to end, but you know it has to… you want it to be me that says
yes, me that pardons you… fuck, Bill. Fuck you to hell and back.

Charlie rammed his eyes shut, actually regretting that he
didn’t believe in hell so his curse meant nothing for the pain he was
suffering, and reached back with strong, muscled arms and grabbed hold of the
small, slightly furred backside behind his. Pressing down, he took a deep
breath and thrust back. The resulting sensation had stars exploding for both of
them. He did it again, and again, fucking himself until he had found his
rhythm, made all the more difficult by the fact he was shorter. He kept going
until he could feel himself shattering through the wall of defiance which made
up Bill’s body, heard it crumble with gasps and begging moans.

The hand was still working him and he knew he wouldn’t last
much longer.

“Bill,” he didn’t stop to listen how wistful and longing his
tone was. “Bill, let it go…”

There was a loud growl as the words sunk in and then there
were hot lips on his ear, a tongue rimming the shell before delving in and
coating it in wet heat. Charlie realised the growl had been a sign that Bill
wanted them to go down together. He wanted to laugh at his brother’s stupidity,
that he thought Charlie needed anything more than what they had already shared.

All it took was another plunge of the tongue in his ear, and
a shift of the metal bar in his cock and Charlie thrust back a final time,
throwing his head back against Bill’s shoulder as he silently screamed his
orgasm out to the room, coating Bill’s hand as he did so. He felt one
deceptively thin but strong arm grab him about the torso, and then his insides
were washed with semen and his ears filled with the unstoppable, heartbreaking,
delicious groans of his lover.

The cooling spell of the room seemed to tingle on them both
as they panted through the aftershocks, wrapped around one another, not moving
from their entangled position.

Charlie wondered if, when Bill’s face buried into his
shoulder from behind, he felt the same. That nothing would ever have been good enough for the last
time –if he ached just as much as Charlie did for more, anything more. He swallowed and looked out of the window
again.

“Fuck, Char…” the words were
whispered and broken.

“I know.”

***

Well. It’s done now.
He married her. He looked me in the eye this morning, smiled, and left the
room. I went and showered, washed away the remnants of his come from my arse
and his sweat from my skin and stayed there for as long as it took for someone
to smash their fist on the door and demand I get out.

And that came all too
soon. I sit watching him dance with her, looking at what a beautiful couple
they make. Even I can’t deny that. Her hair is even silkier than his is. Two
waterfalls of silk flow, combining fire and ice; at some point she must have
pulled his hair free. Bet Mum’s doing her nut.

I swig a mouthful of
champagne and look at Ron, smiling as he keeps Hermione dancing so she stays
away from Viktor Krum. My littlest brother in competition with an international
Quidditch star… And the funny thing is, I don’t think
the kid has any idea he’s going to win, that he’ll get her. Of course he
fucking will -all he needs to do is look at her expression for him.

They break apart then
and I look elsewhere, sitting alone at my table. The twins disappeared off with
the French cousins with determined looks on their faces. Everyone in this
damned family is getting lucky but me. Ginny’s been glued to Harry’s pseudo-face
all day (which just goes to show how mad she is for him as that lad from the
village isn’t much of a looker) and him to her
neckline. I’m not surprised. It was certainly a change, who knew she had grown
up so fast? Just more proof that my siblings know how to handle our mother
better than me, that Gin managed to talk her way into that dress in the first
place.

I’m back to them
again, laughing now with more champagne.

And
then something silver lands through the canopy of the tent, a lynx, a Patronus. I blink, hear the words. The crowd scatters
in terror as wards break and spells are shot. I look to Bill and see the
devastation on his face. He couldn’t even have his own wedding without
disruption.

I swallow the rest of
my champagne. I think I need it.

-fin-
- 1
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Playing With Fire