Fic: Completely Fucking Inappropriate (Charlie/James Sirius)
Title: Completely Fucking Inappropriate
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
llaeyro
Prompt: #S8 byshiftylinguini
Pairing(s): Charlie/James Sirius, mentions of past Charlie/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5700
Content/Warnings: Uncle/nephew, casual sex, nipple piercings, rough sex, hair pulling, power fucking.
Summary: A story of wanting what you shouldn’t, and ending up with more than you bargained for.
Author's Note: Thank you to shiftylinguini for the prompt, which I totally lifted the title from and loads of love to M for the beta.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement intended.
Also on LJ
Also on AO3
Charlie Weasley wasn’t a good man. His moral compass tended to point rather west-southwest. It wasn’t that he was a bad person — at least, he’d never thought so — but others didn’t always agree. He liked to dance along the knife’s edge of acceptability, leap over the fires of danger and stare risk right in the face, challenging the world to do its worst. In Charlie’s eyes, if he didn’t live every day of his life that way, well. He hadn’t really lived.
This controversial take on life goals was most apparent in Charlie’s sex life. As far as he was concerned, providing they were legal and fully capable of consent, no one was off-limits. It didn’t matter if they were much younger, older, married, separated, recently bereaved, “straight” or somewhat related to him. In fact, such situations only made Charlie all the more interested. The more completely fucking inappropriate the better. Sex was, somehow, so much more enjoyable when he shouldn’t be having it. He supposed that was true for many things. After all, chips always tasted better from someone else’s plate.
Aside from the dirty-wrong factor, he loved the challenge of discovering how someone liked it, and over the years he’d become very good at delivering just that. It wasn’t exactly compatible with the conventional ‘settle down’ mind-set and that did occasionally get him into trouble. His mother had always been particularly dismayed over his attitude, but had given up the constant nagging many moons ago. She still went on and on about how happily settled his brothers were, followed by the obligatory heavy pause and eye-roll when Charlie simply picked up the conversation and carried on. He’d always been happy without strings. In fact, he preferred it. He’d never wanted to settle down. Well, that’s what he told himself. Deep down, he knew that had changed in recent years, but he’d long since cracked a magnum on the hull of that ship and sent it on it’s way. Charlie wasn’t one to dwell on his mistakes. He’d done a fair job of fucking those memories away over the last… however long. It had to have been like a year or something.
It wasn’t as if Charlie went looking for trouble, either. He just seemed to be naturally drawn towards the so-called ‘wrong’ people and them to him. He had quite a reputation back home, but he liked that. Everyone knew what they could expect from him, and that commitment didn’t make the list. And by home, Charlie meant Romania but, honestly, his reputation had spread well beyond the confines of the dragon reserve. It’s why he didn’t visit the family more often. Merlin knows the Weasley dinner table was crowded enough when he was a kid. Now, with the addition of another generation of Weasleys, Potters and Granger-Weasleys the last thing The Burrow needed was Charlie and his promiscuous elephant in the room. He’d stayed away completely for two years — keeping in touch via owls and Floo calls, of course — but a rather insistent and, quite frankly, scary owl from Fleur had seen Charlie return for Dominique’s wedding over Christmas. That’s when one of Ginny’s kids had caught Charlie’s attention.
Well, not so much a kid. James was taller than Charlie now, lean yet strong looking with a magnetic air of confidence about him. Until he found himself face to face with Charlie, at least. His demeanour shifted, giving nervous, shy smiles and hesitant answers as he alternated between folding his arms and messing with his hair. Albus even commented on it, laughing in that almost well-meaning way that only an evil sibling can. That’s when James had awkwardly made his excuses. He stepped away, shoulders relaxing as he moved over towards Teddy and Victoire, back to his usual easiness for the rest of the evening. He avoided Charlie.
Charlie had been intrigued and so James had been a large factor in Charlie’s decision to return to The Burrow for Easter. Not that he’d let his family know anything of the sort, but he was never one to lie to himself. He had let himself indulge in a few off-the-wall fantasies in the week running up to his departure but he’d had no real expectations. Perhaps he could coax a little flirting out of the kid; that would be fun. Honestly, though, he had thoroughly expected James to be shyly avoiding him again.
He certainly hadn’t expected James to ambush him outside the loo and bundle him into his old bedroom. It didn’t feel much like his old room these days, not with Ginny’s stamp on it, and a few more recent posters and trinkets from Lily’s days of staying over. James cast simple locking and privacy charms and lingered by the door, back to Charlie.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Charlie asked conversationally.
“It’s James,” he replied confidently before turning to face Charlie. “I’m not a kid anymore, Charlie.”
“I can see that.” Charlie let his eyes linger over James once more, just as they had been all night. As cool as he’d looked in that leather jacket and purple scarf on arrival, Charlie much preferred him without them. The dark t-shirt fit perfectly, highlighting his physique while the super skinny jeans, well… Little was left to the imagination. James was tall, slim and, most alluringly, forbidden. Charlie wanted.
“So, what can I do for you?” He asked when James continued to just stare at him.
James’s tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips, but his gaze didn’t falter. “I think you’ve got a pretty good idea. You haven’t stopped flirting with me all day.” It had sounded like an accusation, but Charlie wasn’t about to apologise when James had been giving as good as he got. There had been leg brushes under the table, fleeting touches as they passed the salt, heated glances and secret smiles.
“And?”
“And I want to know if you’re planning on doing anything about it.”
Charlie couldn’t stop the grin from creeping onto his face. “You put on a good show of acting self-assured and world-wise but you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
James stepped towards him confidently. “I know more than you think.”
“You haven’t been talking to Ron, have you?” Charlie chuckled. James’s cheeks pinkened and he ducked his head, looking away. Charlie’s stomach dropped. He was sure Ron can’t have had anything good to say about him. He’d pulled Charlie aside earlier, warning him in hushed tones to stay away from James. He always watched Charlie with suspicion these days and Ron had noticed what had been passing between him and James. “He doesn’t exactly approve of my lifestyle choices.”
James chuckled. “Well, you have to expect a shift in someone’s opinion of you after you sleep with their wife.”
“He told you that?” Charlie grimaced, rather surprised.
“I can read between the lines,” he replied with a shrug. “A few snippets of conversations I’ve heard over the years suddenly made sense.”
“Is that why you’ve cornered me in here? To talk about me and Hermione?”
“Fuck no,” James huffed in slightly horrified amusement. He shook it off, stepping forward again and looking down levelly at Charlie from his height advantage. “I love being fucked, but I’m bored of young, clueless guys fumbling their way into my pants.” His hand came up, fingers trailing lightly down Charlie’s chest. “I prefer a man with more experience.”
Charlie cocked his head, taking half a step forward into James’s space. “Looking to get fucked by your uncle, James?”
James screwed up his face. “Less of the uncle,” he muttered, thumb running back and forth over Charlie’s nipple, tracing the bar piercing. “I’m looking to get fucked by the dragon handler.”
Charlie brought his hand up to James’s cheek, stilling his progress as he leant down, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re fucking insane,” Charlie chuckled, and James’s face fell. “Your Uncle Ron will be looking for us,” He took a step back, hand falling away and speaking again before James could interject. “So you’re going to walk out of here looking like I kicked your crup, and then you’re going to avoid me for the rest of the day.”
James pouted angrily, shoulders drooping in defeat. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on, Uncle,” James shot back as he turned away.
“Hang on, kid, you forgot this.” He casually held out the hotel’s business card. James frowned as he took it and turned it over. “I’ll be in the lobby bar, eight o’clock, tomorrow night.” A grin broke out across James’s face, hand sweeping through his hair with relief as he lightly stepped back to the door.
“James—” Charlie started in warning.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” James winked before storming out and slamming the door behind him.
Charlie smiled to himself. It had been a while since he’d earned the interest of someone quite as young as James, and the fact that he’d done so without even trying was doing wonders for his ego. The kid was bold, but with a buzzing nervous energy about him. It was sort of entertaining and adorable. Charlie still wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea, but that’s why he had suggested the bar. He would have time to feel the whole situation out properly before committing. He needed to be sure that James knew what it was—just sex, no strings attached. He hoped that James would be okay with that.
He was already pretty sure that he would be.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
In hindsight, James realised that he’d probably overdone it a little with the sulking the previous evening. He’d overshot ‘kicked crup’ and ended up somewhere in the vicinity of ‘drowned bag of kneazles’. He’d been vaguely aware of Charlie across the room, seeming equal parts exasperated and amused.
James frowned to himself as he failed to stifle another yawn. He couldn’t have been waiting in the bar that long, he was still on his first drink, but he hadn’t really slept the night before. Nervous excitement had plagued him, fantasies playing out in his mind, stirring his cock and dismissing all thoughts of slumber. He’d wanted to save himself for Charlie but he’d failed, giving into temptation as he fucked his own fist in a bid to sleep. It worked, to a fashion, until he’d woken hard again, when the sun was barely beginning to peek around the curtains. Charlie wasn’t exactly his usual type, but that was the appeal. His usual type were either clueless, too vanilla or looking for a relationship. He wasn’t sure it would press his buttons bottoming for someone noticeably shorter but Charlie had too much else going for him to put James off completely.
He took another sip of his gin and tonic, glancing up at the various entrances for the fifty-thousandth time. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. Perhaps he’d had a better offer, or decided that James wasn’t worth the trouble. Perhaps he’d never planned to come at all, wasn’t even staying in this hotel. James checked the time.
Six minutes to eight.
He shook his head and chuckled at himself, taking a much larger swig of his drink. Becoming aware of someone in his peripheral vision, James looked up to see Charlie standing across the table. The first thing that James noticed was the tattoo. He knew Charlie had tattoos, but they were usually more hidden at The Burrow. He’d noticed the one on his wrist at Christmas and he still hadn’t figured out what it was. Now he could see that Charlie had part of a dragon wrapped around his left shoulder, disappearing beneath his vest. He didn’t blame Charlie for hiding them around Gran. He still remembers her reaction when Al and Scorpius each got their favourite chess pieces tattooed on their ankles.
James tore his eyes away from the tattoo, hoping he could see the rest later. Charlie’s low-slung jeans were torn at the knee and his simple vest top clung to his pecs. James didn’t think he’d ever seen Charlie with his hair not tied back before. He liked it. Overall, Charlie looked rugged and confident. James shifted in his seat, subtly trying to adjust himself. Perhaps leather trousers hadn’t been the best choice. He’d certainly got a lot of interesting looks since he arrived.
“Starting soft?” Charlie inquired, still standing opposite. It took James a moment to realise Charlie was pointing at his glass.
“Oh, no, it’s um, gin.”
Charlie wrinkled his nose. “Why are you drinking gin?”
“I like gin.”
“Someone has to, I suppose.” He grinned. “Same again?” James nodded and Charlie moved to the bar. James couldn’t stop himself from turning to watch him go, admiring the way his jeans hugged his strong thighs. He could feel the anticipation building again, fear making way for excitement. He turned back as Charlie reached the bar, not wanting to get caught staring. His fingers trailed nervously up and down his glass, making channels in the condensation, watching it drip onto the coaster.
Charlie came back, placing down both drinks and getting silently comfortable in the opposite chair. He stretched his legs out under the table, unapologetic when he brushed against James’s. Charlie sipped at his honey-coloured liquid.
“Whisky?” James inquired.
“Rum. Vanilla flavoured. Want to try?”
James shook his head. “Maybe later,” he replied, subtly wetting his lower lip with his tongue. Charlie caught the inference and his eyes darkened. He took another swig.
“Why are we here?” James asked, glancing around them.
“I thought you knew that,” Charlie said, leaning back in his chair and laying down his glass. “You instigated it.”
“Yes, but why here,” James pressed, “In public?” The why not upstairs was implicit.
Charlie sucked his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to be certain that we’re on the same page.”
“We are.” He was impressed with how confident it sounded, despite his insides doing somersaults. The conversation stalled as the waiter came over, clearing James’s empty glass. James waited until he was out of earshot, lowering his voice just in case. “One-off, no expectations, no strings. Perhaps it happens again some time, perhaps it doesn’t. Nothing changes, no one knows.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It can be. It used to be, right?”
Charlie looked at him shrewdly and James cleared his throat. Now wasn’t the time to be letting on just how much he thought he knew about Charlie. The stories probably weren’t even about him anyway, James had no real reason to think so. There were plenty of handlers working at the Romanian reserve, after all. James leant forward on the table, watching Charlie’s eyes drift south, knowing that the sag of his V-neck t-shirt would give Charlie a view of his nipple ring.
“So, do you want to fuck me or not?” he whispered across the table.
Charlie pursed his lips, watching his fingers turn his tumbler on the coaster. James waited, fingers twitching quietly against the table top, heartbeat thrumming loudly in his own ears. Charlie gave a little sigh before looking up at him, blue eyes meeting James’s. Charlie downed his rum in one and stood.
“Alright,” he shrugged, giving James half a smirk before heading towards the stairs.
James tried to look casual and not ridiculously eager as he followed Charlie from the bar and towards the rooms. He didn’t succeed, if the look he received from the waiter was anything to go by. He was pretty sure it was supposed to look like disgust, but it actually looked a lot more like jealousy. It made James grin to himself as he sped up the stairs, too excited and turned on to care what anyone else thought. His thighs squeaked a little, leather rubbing together as he walked. He couldn’t wait to get out of those trousers.
Charlie paused at the top of the stairs, waiting a moment for James to catch up. When they were level, Charlie nodded down the corridor to the right. “Two-oh-eight,” he said, waving a hand to indicate that James should go ahead. James glanced down the corridor but hesitated.
Charlie stepped forward, reaching out to sweep James’s hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper. “I want to take a moment to appreciate those trousers before I tear them off of you.” James inhaled sharply, turning away from Charlie with some difficulty and setting off quickly down the corridor. Charlie may want to admire him but James just couldn’t wait to get his hands and mouth on Charlie. He was so focused on that thought that he carried on past the door, turning back with a small embarrassed laugh. Charlie strolled over to him, casual, unhurried and amused.
“Eager?”
James blushed slightly, but determinedly met Charlie’s eye. “Open the bloody door and I’ll show you,” he promised. Charlie fished the key card out of his pocket and opened the door, pulling James in behind him.
Before the door could swing closed, James found himself pinned to the wall by a sturdy chest and broad shoulders. Charlie’s mouth was on his before he was expecting it, insistent and demanding. James moaned into the kiss, hands tangling in Charlie’s hair, hips rolling. He could feel Charlie’s burgeoning erection against his thigh and he dropped a hand to Charlie’s arse, urging him closer.
“Fuck, those trousers,” Charlie panted, pulling away to leave a trail of slow kisses against James’s neck. James’s hand in Charlie’s hair tried to steer him back, but Charlie wouldn’t budge. “They should be illegal. I know I should be taking my time with you—”
“No you shouldn’t.” That was the last thing James wanted.
“No? Do you like things a little… frantic?” He planted a slow kiss just above James’s collarbone. “Desperate?” Teeth scraped against his jaw and James moaned his encouragement. “Rough?” A light bite that time, just below James’s ear.
“Fuck, yes,” James groaned, fingers curled under the hem of Charlie’s vest. “Just rough, though. I’m not into, y’know, heavier stuff.”
Charlie kissed his mouth again and James could taste the vanilla on his tongue. “Works for me,” Charlie smiled, pulling James’s t-shirt roughly over his head and letting it drop to the floor. He grabbed James around the waist, steering him towards the bed and practically throwing him onto it. James shuffled back on his elbows, watching Charlie confidently pull off his vest. James’s breath caught in his throat, eyes exploring Charlie’s chest, taking in muscle and nipple piercings and the smattering of chest hair and freckles and that tattoo. James didn’t know much about dragons, but the work was still impressive. The dark scales looked to have a rough texture, its eyes a brilliant purple against Charlie’s sternum. The dragon’s front claw seemed to clutch his pectoral muscle, its huge wing wrapping over Charlie’s shoulder and the arrow-shaped tail curling around his biceps.
Charlie knelt on the bed, straddling James’s legs. A firm hand on his shoulder pushed James flat onto his back and Charlie leant down, tracing James’s nipple ring with his tongue. James hummed his appreciation, hands roaming across all the skin they could reach, which wasn’t a lot. He was about to pull at Charlie’s arms, get him back into kissing distance when Charlie caught the ring between his teeth and tugged. The pleasure-pain shot straight from his nipple to his cock, causing him to arch his back as he moaned Charlie’s name. Charlie looked up at him with a sort of pleased satisfaction before deftly undoing James’s trousers. He had to climb off the bed, pausing to slip off James’s shoes before continuing to slowly peel off the trousers while James raised his bum then offered out one leg at a time. He’d felt sexy with them on but not so much now. He felt a little silly, and sweaty, and itchy from his leg hairs being pinned in various directions.
“Hang on, can—I just need my wand, a sec.”
Charlie retrieved James’s pale wand from the charmed pocket of his leather trousers, smiling down at it for a moment before handing it over. James distracted himself with muttering the charm to freshen himself up. He used to hate how distinctive his wand was, the reputation dogwood had and the assumptions people would make about him because of it. In his teens he’d gone so far as to try varnishing it to change the colour. That, of course, had ended badly and with a thorough telling off from Dad. The family owl still didn’t trust him.
Charlie knew what he was like, though, knew that he’d never exactly been one to play by the rules, yet he was still here. James wondered wryly if that could actually be a contributing factor as to why Charlie was here. He passed it back to Charlie, who placed it and his own on the bedside table. James was too busy trying to quickly wrestle his socks off to notice Charlie toeing off his shoes and dropping his trousers. He’d just managed to free his feet when Charlie descended on him again, thumb flicking at his pierced nipple as he kissed him deeply. James wriggled to work a hand between them, desperate to move things along a little quicker.
Charlie gave a contented sigh as James cupped him through his pants, nudging at James’s jaw with his nose to better get at his neck. James was glad that Charlie was distracted with his neck rather than looking at his face. He was shit at hiding his emotions and he’d have been mortified if Charlie had noticed the disappointment when James finally got his hands on Charlie’s package. He’d had high expectations, which seemed rather unjustified and stupid now. James wasn’t naive. He knew that a big cock didn’t guarantee a decent shag — he’d put that theory thoroughly through its paces — but he’d never had a memorable fuck from someone with an average dick, and at first grope, he suspected Charlie was maybe a little below average.
Charlie batted his hand away, grabbing James by the shoulder and flipping him over. Before James could react, strong hands were on his hips, yanking him easily up onto his hands and knees. He was going to have a satisfying number of bruises to discover in the morning.
“You might want to chuck up a privacy charm,” James said, pushing back into the hands now kneading at his arse.
“Noisy, are you?” Charlie asked, pressing kisses along the small of James’s back. James felt the bed move behind him, heard the subtle slide of clothing and knew Charlie had wriggled out of his boxers.
“If you’re doing it right.”
“Well in that case, let them listen,” Charlie chuckled, jerking James’s pants down and spreading his cheeks. Slick fingers brushed across his hole and James knew he should be wondering where the lube came from but then Charlie pushed a finger inside and James couldn’t give a fuck anymore. One became two too quickly and James buried his face in the duvet, muffling his moans as Charlie finger-fucked him through the burn. In no time at all he felt the blunt tip of Charlie’s cock against him, the pressure slowly increasing until the head slipped inside. James rocked back and Charlie took the silent hint, sinking in until his hips were flush to James’s arse. The ache was ebbing already, James already missing the slight painful edge that enhanced his pleasure. Perhaps this was a mistake.
Charlie started to move then, short sharp thrusts as he clutched at James’s hips. James pushed back and moaned, hoping Charlie would catch on. Apparently he did because he built the pace quickly, pulling James back onto him with as much force, fingertips biting into his skin. That was more like it, James thought.
Charlie paused, moving his knees, adjusting his position. James, already panting, took the opportunity to push himself up onto his hands. As Charlie started to move again, a hand found it’s way into James’s hair, pulling hard enough that he had to arch his back and tip his head up. That was it, the edge, that little hint of pain that James needed to really get him going.
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, “Fuck me harder.”
The hand in his hair yanked even harder and James went with it, kneeling up. Charlie’s other hand came up from his hips, crossing James’s chest to grab his far shoulder. One sharp thrust and James cried out as Charlie nailed his prostate. Guys usually glanced past it — which felt good in its own way — but Charlie was just the right length to hit it dead on at this angle. It was a real, intense, toe-curling pleasure.
Charlie let go of his hair, wrapping his arm instead around James’s hips, holding him tightly. He snapped his hips faster than James ever thought possible, tearing breathily broken sounds from James’s throat. It was hard, and just the right kind of deep, and fast and all James could do was let it happen. It was exhilarating, overwhelming, freeing to be so out of control. He’d have expected it to be scarier, but this was Charlie and this near-brutal power fucking came in short bursts. Charlie slowed down for a while, hot breaths and wet kisses falling across James’s shoulders before it would start again.
When Charlie let him go, pushed him down, turned him over, James could only happily let him. He was a mess of over-sensitised need and uncoordinated limbs. As Charlie pushed in again, James looked up at him, through the frame of Charlie’s hair hanging down and James’s legs sticking up. He wrapped his hand around his cock, coming across his chest with a moan and a shaky sigh. When James had ridden out his orgasm, tension leaving his muscles as he flopped back onto the bed, Charlie pulled out and sat back on his knees. James frowned to himself. He hadn’t noticed Charlie come. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had.
“Alright?” Charlie asked somewhat hesitantly.
“Yeah,” James replied quickly. “I mean… Did you—?”
“Oh yeah,” Charlie grinned emphatically.
Charlie moved beside him, leaning back against the headboard. James could see Charlie’s wrist tattoo the right way up now, but he still wasn’t entirely sure what it was, there was so much detail. There were definitely Quidditch goals in the background near the top, and lots of wispy lines, swirling. James sat up, nervous uncertainty fluttering in his stomach. “Do you want me to fuck off now?”
“You don’t have to,” Charlie said easily, stretching. James watched the way his dragon tattoo moved as he did so.
“Alright then,” James shrugged, sounding as casual and uncaring as he could manage while curling up next to Charlie. “But don’t think this means I’m sticking around. I’m still not looking for a relationship, even if you are the best fuck I’ve had so far.”
“Well, just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean you won’t find one so keep your eyes open, yeah?”
They fell into comfortable silence for a while as James mulled that over. He thought it sounded a lot like ‘don’t make the same mistake I did.’ He also realised that those wispy lines looked quite a bit like a tornado. Shit. He’d done a great job of convincing himself the stories really weren’t Charlie, and that made going after him okay. Well, as okay as going after your much older Uncle can be. Better than going after your mate’s ex. He knew it probably wasn’t his place to say anything, but then again it wasn’t like it could do any harm at that point.
“Were you thinking of him?”
Charlie tensed up, drawing himself up into more of a sitting position. “What—”
“I don’t mind if you were,” James rambled, turning to face him, “I was just wondering. When I started school I used to get mistaken for him quite a lot, but I don’t think we’re so alike now. At least, no one’s stopped me in the street to ask for my autograph yet.”
Charlie was frowning and looking defensive. “I don’t know who you’re—”
“Bobby.” And with that single word, the blustery bravado and denial that had been so ready to leave Charlie’s lips evaporated. They both knew that very few people called him Bobby. To the rest of the world he was Rob Hutchins, latest signing for the Tutshill Tornadoes and the next big keeper in the national leagues. “We didn’t really know each other at school but when he came back from Romania his friends tried to set us up. We got on great, but neither of us wanted to get involved with anyone so… We’re just mates.”
“And he told you — What did he tell you?”
“Well, he never actually told me it was you…” James grimaced.
Charlie looked at him fondly. “But you read between the lines, right?”
“Something like that.” James muttered, letting his gaze linger on the wrist tattoo. “He calls you his ‘wild guy’.”
“Does he now?” Charlie huffed with amusement.
“Oh he speaks very highly of you.” He saw a flicker of something painful pass across Charlie’s expression and wished he could shove the words back in. “He misses you.”
Charlie gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, well, I fucked up big time, as you probably already know. I didn’t realise what he really meant to me until he got tired of sharing.” He rolled out of bed, sifting through discarded clothing and retrieving his trousers.
“Look, this is probably really weird coming from the guy you just fucked but I didn’t plan this. I honestly thought I was a little crazy for thinking it was you and… Well, it’s obvious you regret it, so you should know it’s not too late.”
Charlie paused on one leg, foot half way down his trouser leg before shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. “He’s young, hot and famous, he won’t be waiting around for some rough dragon geek with commitment issues.” He finished pulling his jeans on and zipped up.
“Not waiting, no…” James said carefully, “But he can’t get you out of his head. No one compares to his wild guy.”
“He said that?”
“He still loves you, Charlie. If you’re ready to stop fucking around, you only have to prove it.”
Charlie crawled across the bed, hand coming up to cup James’s jaw. He gently held him still, bringing his lips to James’s forehead and leaving a lingering kiss there.
“You’re going to make one kinky bastard very happy one day, Jamie.”
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for him, Uncle,” James chuckled. Charlie grabbed his wand and pulled on his vest.
“You do that, kid,” he said fondly. “Now get dressed and piss off, I’ve got the apology of my life to plan.”
It wasn’t the first time James had been kicked out after sex, but he’d never been happier.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Charlie sat nervously between his partner and his one-night-stand. It was far from the first time the three of them had been together but tonight was different, not that James knew it yet.
Bobby hadn’t made it easy for Charlie to walk back into his life, and Charlie thought that was fair enough. He’d always tried to be a good friend to Bobby, and an attentive lover in the bedroom, but that had been that. He had made sure that there was no crossover — no cuddles on the couch, casual hand-holding or pecks on the cheek — that could confuse the issue or muddy the waters. Ultimately, that wasn’t good enough for Bobby. He’d needed more.
But now Charlie was ready to provide, and he had been. It had been easier than Charlie had expected, in a way. He didn’t have to constantly think of ways to prove his feelings, it just happened rather naturally. He held the occasional door open, got up on his days off to make breakfast before Bobby headed off to training, attended most of his matches: he was just there for him, always. And Bobby was there for him too. It was surprisingly nice, the security in that reliability.
Still, Charlie had been surprised when Bobby had suggested tonight. He’d thought that, given his own past, that sort of thing would be strictly out of the question — that he was now and would remain a one-man man.
He watched Bobby down his drink, placing it down loudly before stretching out with a sigh. James was looking at him curiously. Bobby was trying to sound casual, fingertips drumming lightly on the table.
“So, let’s get this out of the way first.” He spoke directly to James. “We all know that each of us has slept with the other.”
James’s reaction was adorable. He looked shocked, mortified and turned on in equal measure. Back before they were officially together, Charlie had forewarned James that he was going to come clean to Bobby, but James probably hadn’t expected Bobby to tell Charlie about the few times they’d slept together as friends.
“And although we are totally committed to each other, we think it could be fun to… share.”
James looked a little concerned, but Charlie was too distracted by the fluttery feeling in his stomach at hearing Bobby say ‘committed’.
“If you’re going to ask me something, then ask,” James said, in a tone which gave nothing away.
Bobby definitely looked nervous. Charlie moved his hand to Bobby’s knee under the table, offering him a small supportive smile. James seemed to clock it, too.
“Look,” Bobby sighed, “I know you’ve wanted to try a threesome for ages. We trust you. Are you up for another one-off or not?”
With his hand on Bobby’s knee, Charlie could feel the tension leave his boyfriend as James’s face lit up in a grin.
“Sign me up.”
Fin
Author:
llaeyroPrompt: #S8 by
shiftylinguiniPairing(s): Charlie/James Sirius, mentions of past Charlie/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5700
Content/Warnings: Uncle/nephew, casual sex, nipple piercings, rough sex, hair pulling, power fucking.
Summary: A story of wanting what you shouldn’t, and ending up with more than you bargained for.
Author's Note: Thank you to shiftylinguini for the prompt, which I totally lifted the title from and loads of love to M for the beta.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement intended.
Also on LJ
Also on AO3
Charlie Weasley wasn’t a good man. His moral compass tended to point rather west-southwest. It wasn’t that he was a bad person — at least, he’d never thought so — but others didn’t always agree. He liked to dance along the knife’s edge of acceptability, leap over the fires of danger and stare risk right in the face, challenging the world to do its worst. In Charlie’s eyes, if he didn’t live every day of his life that way, well. He hadn’t really lived.
This controversial take on life goals was most apparent in Charlie’s sex life. As far as he was concerned, providing they were legal and fully capable of consent, no one was off-limits. It didn’t matter if they were much younger, older, married, separated, recently bereaved, “straight” or somewhat related to him. In fact, such situations only made Charlie all the more interested. The more completely fucking inappropriate the better. Sex was, somehow, so much more enjoyable when he shouldn’t be having it. He supposed that was true for many things. After all, chips always tasted better from someone else’s plate.
Aside from the dirty-wrong factor, he loved the challenge of discovering how someone liked it, and over the years he’d become very good at delivering just that. It wasn’t exactly compatible with the conventional ‘settle down’ mind-set and that did occasionally get him into trouble. His mother had always been particularly dismayed over his attitude, but had given up the constant nagging many moons ago. She still went on and on about how happily settled his brothers were, followed by the obligatory heavy pause and eye-roll when Charlie simply picked up the conversation and carried on. He’d always been happy without strings. In fact, he preferred it. He’d never wanted to settle down. Well, that’s what he told himself. Deep down, he knew that had changed in recent years, but he’d long since cracked a magnum on the hull of that ship and sent it on it’s way. Charlie wasn’t one to dwell on his mistakes. He’d done a fair job of fucking those memories away over the last… however long. It had to have been like a year or something.
It wasn’t as if Charlie went looking for trouble, either. He just seemed to be naturally drawn towards the so-called ‘wrong’ people and them to him. He had quite a reputation back home, but he liked that. Everyone knew what they could expect from him, and that commitment didn’t make the list. And by home, Charlie meant Romania but, honestly, his reputation had spread well beyond the confines of the dragon reserve. It’s why he didn’t visit the family more often. Merlin knows the Weasley dinner table was crowded enough when he was a kid. Now, with the addition of another generation of Weasleys, Potters and Granger-Weasleys the last thing The Burrow needed was Charlie and his promiscuous elephant in the room. He’d stayed away completely for two years — keeping in touch via owls and Floo calls, of course — but a rather insistent and, quite frankly, scary owl from Fleur had seen Charlie return for Dominique’s wedding over Christmas. That’s when one of Ginny’s kids had caught Charlie’s attention.
Well, not so much a kid. James was taller than Charlie now, lean yet strong looking with a magnetic air of confidence about him. Until he found himself face to face with Charlie, at least. His demeanour shifted, giving nervous, shy smiles and hesitant answers as he alternated between folding his arms and messing with his hair. Albus even commented on it, laughing in that almost well-meaning way that only an evil sibling can. That’s when James had awkwardly made his excuses. He stepped away, shoulders relaxing as he moved over towards Teddy and Victoire, back to his usual easiness for the rest of the evening. He avoided Charlie.
Charlie had been intrigued and so James had been a large factor in Charlie’s decision to return to The Burrow for Easter. Not that he’d let his family know anything of the sort, but he was never one to lie to himself. He had let himself indulge in a few off-the-wall fantasies in the week running up to his departure but he’d had no real expectations. Perhaps he could coax a little flirting out of the kid; that would be fun. Honestly, though, he had thoroughly expected James to be shyly avoiding him again.
He certainly hadn’t expected James to ambush him outside the loo and bundle him into his old bedroom. It didn’t feel much like his old room these days, not with Ginny’s stamp on it, and a few more recent posters and trinkets from Lily’s days of staying over. James cast simple locking and privacy charms and lingered by the door, back to Charlie.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Charlie asked conversationally.
“It’s James,” he replied confidently before turning to face Charlie. “I’m not a kid anymore, Charlie.”
“I can see that.” Charlie let his eyes linger over James once more, just as they had been all night. As cool as he’d looked in that leather jacket and purple scarf on arrival, Charlie much preferred him without them. The dark t-shirt fit perfectly, highlighting his physique while the super skinny jeans, well… Little was left to the imagination. James was tall, slim and, most alluringly, forbidden. Charlie wanted.
“So, what can I do for you?” He asked when James continued to just stare at him.
James’s tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips, but his gaze didn’t falter. “I think you’ve got a pretty good idea. You haven’t stopped flirting with me all day.” It had sounded like an accusation, but Charlie wasn’t about to apologise when James had been giving as good as he got. There had been leg brushes under the table, fleeting touches as they passed the salt, heated glances and secret smiles.
“And?”
“And I want to know if you’re planning on doing anything about it.”
Charlie couldn’t stop the grin from creeping onto his face. “You put on a good show of acting self-assured and world-wise but you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
James stepped towards him confidently. “I know more than you think.”
“You haven’t been talking to Ron, have you?” Charlie chuckled. James’s cheeks pinkened and he ducked his head, looking away. Charlie’s stomach dropped. He was sure Ron can’t have had anything good to say about him. He’d pulled Charlie aside earlier, warning him in hushed tones to stay away from James. He always watched Charlie with suspicion these days and Ron had noticed what had been passing between him and James. “He doesn’t exactly approve of my lifestyle choices.”
James chuckled. “Well, you have to expect a shift in someone’s opinion of you after you sleep with their wife.”
“He told you that?” Charlie grimaced, rather surprised.
“I can read between the lines,” he replied with a shrug. “A few snippets of conversations I’ve heard over the years suddenly made sense.”
“Is that why you’ve cornered me in here? To talk about me and Hermione?”
“Fuck no,” James huffed in slightly horrified amusement. He shook it off, stepping forward again and looking down levelly at Charlie from his height advantage. “I love being fucked, but I’m bored of young, clueless guys fumbling their way into my pants.” His hand came up, fingers trailing lightly down Charlie’s chest. “I prefer a man with more experience.”
Charlie cocked his head, taking half a step forward into James’s space. “Looking to get fucked by your uncle, James?”
James screwed up his face. “Less of the uncle,” he muttered, thumb running back and forth over Charlie’s nipple, tracing the bar piercing. “I’m looking to get fucked by the dragon handler.”
Charlie brought his hand up to James’s cheek, stilling his progress as he leant down, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re fucking insane,” Charlie chuckled, and James’s face fell. “Your Uncle Ron will be looking for us,” He took a step back, hand falling away and speaking again before James could interject. “So you’re going to walk out of here looking like I kicked your crup, and then you’re going to avoid me for the rest of the day.”
James pouted angrily, shoulders drooping in defeat. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on, Uncle,” James shot back as he turned away.
“Hang on, kid, you forgot this.” He casually held out the hotel’s business card. James frowned as he took it and turned it over. “I’ll be in the lobby bar, eight o’clock, tomorrow night.” A grin broke out across James’s face, hand sweeping through his hair with relief as he lightly stepped back to the door.
“James—” Charlie started in warning.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” James winked before storming out and slamming the door behind him.
Charlie smiled to himself. It had been a while since he’d earned the interest of someone quite as young as James, and the fact that he’d done so without even trying was doing wonders for his ego. The kid was bold, but with a buzzing nervous energy about him. It was sort of entertaining and adorable. Charlie still wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea, but that’s why he had suggested the bar. He would have time to feel the whole situation out properly before committing. He needed to be sure that James knew what it was—just sex, no strings attached. He hoped that James would be okay with that.
He was already pretty sure that he would be.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
In hindsight, James realised that he’d probably overdone it a little with the sulking the previous evening. He’d overshot ‘kicked crup’ and ended up somewhere in the vicinity of ‘drowned bag of kneazles’. He’d been vaguely aware of Charlie across the room, seeming equal parts exasperated and amused.
James frowned to himself as he failed to stifle another yawn. He couldn’t have been waiting in the bar that long, he was still on his first drink, but he hadn’t really slept the night before. Nervous excitement had plagued him, fantasies playing out in his mind, stirring his cock and dismissing all thoughts of slumber. He’d wanted to save himself for Charlie but he’d failed, giving into temptation as he fucked his own fist in a bid to sleep. It worked, to a fashion, until he’d woken hard again, when the sun was barely beginning to peek around the curtains. Charlie wasn’t exactly his usual type, but that was the appeal. His usual type were either clueless, too vanilla or looking for a relationship. He wasn’t sure it would press his buttons bottoming for someone noticeably shorter but Charlie had too much else going for him to put James off completely.
He took another sip of his gin and tonic, glancing up at the various entrances for the fifty-thousandth time. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. Perhaps he’d had a better offer, or decided that James wasn’t worth the trouble. Perhaps he’d never planned to come at all, wasn’t even staying in this hotel. James checked the time.
Six minutes to eight.
He shook his head and chuckled at himself, taking a much larger swig of his drink. Becoming aware of someone in his peripheral vision, James looked up to see Charlie standing across the table. The first thing that James noticed was the tattoo. He knew Charlie had tattoos, but they were usually more hidden at The Burrow. He’d noticed the one on his wrist at Christmas and he still hadn’t figured out what it was. Now he could see that Charlie had part of a dragon wrapped around his left shoulder, disappearing beneath his vest. He didn’t blame Charlie for hiding them around Gran. He still remembers her reaction when Al and Scorpius each got their favourite chess pieces tattooed on their ankles.
James tore his eyes away from the tattoo, hoping he could see the rest later. Charlie’s low-slung jeans were torn at the knee and his simple vest top clung to his pecs. James didn’t think he’d ever seen Charlie with his hair not tied back before. He liked it. Overall, Charlie looked rugged and confident. James shifted in his seat, subtly trying to adjust himself. Perhaps leather trousers hadn’t been the best choice. He’d certainly got a lot of interesting looks since he arrived.
“Starting soft?” Charlie inquired, still standing opposite. It took James a moment to realise Charlie was pointing at his glass.
“Oh, no, it’s um, gin.”
Charlie wrinkled his nose. “Why are you drinking gin?”
“I like gin.”
“Someone has to, I suppose.” He grinned. “Same again?” James nodded and Charlie moved to the bar. James couldn’t stop himself from turning to watch him go, admiring the way his jeans hugged his strong thighs. He could feel the anticipation building again, fear making way for excitement. He turned back as Charlie reached the bar, not wanting to get caught staring. His fingers trailed nervously up and down his glass, making channels in the condensation, watching it drip onto the coaster.
Charlie came back, placing down both drinks and getting silently comfortable in the opposite chair. He stretched his legs out under the table, unapologetic when he brushed against James’s. Charlie sipped at his honey-coloured liquid.
“Whisky?” James inquired.
“Rum. Vanilla flavoured. Want to try?”
James shook his head. “Maybe later,” he replied, subtly wetting his lower lip with his tongue. Charlie caught the inference and his eyes darkened. He took another swig.
“Why are we here?” James asked, glancing around them.
“I thought you knew that,” Charlie said, leaning back in his chair and laying down his glass. “You instigated it.”
“Yes, but why here,” James pressed, “In public?” The why not upstairs was implicit.
Charlie sucked his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to be certain that we’re on the same page.”
“We are.” He was impressed with how confident it sounded, despite his insides doing somersaults. The conversation stalled as the waiter came over, clearing James’s empty glass. James waited until he was out of earshot, lowering his voice just in case. “One-off, no expectations, no strings. Perhaps it happens again some time, perhaps it doesn’t. Nothing changes, no one knows.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It can be. It used to be, right?”
Charlie looked at him shrewdly and James cleared his throat. Now wasn’t the time to be letting on just how much he thought he knew about Charlie. The stories probably weren’t even about him anyway, James had no real reason to think so. There were plenty of handlers working at the Romanian reserve, after all. James leant forward on the table, watching Charlie’s eyes drift south, knowing that the sag of his V-neck t-shirt would give Charlie a view of his nipple ring.
“So, do you want to fuck me or not?” he whispered across the table.
Charlie pursed his lips, watching his fingers turn his tumbler on the coaster. James waited, fingers twitching quietly against the table top, heartbeat thrumming loudly in his own ears. Charlie gave a little sigh before looking up at him, blue eyes meeting James’s. Charlie downed his rum in one and stood.
“Alright,” he shrugged, giving James half a smirk before heading towards the stairs.
James tried to look casual and not ridiculously eager as he followed Charlie from the bar and towards the rooms. He didn’t succeed, if the look he received from the waiter was anything to go by. He was pretty sure it was supposed to look like disgust, but it actually looked a lot more like jealousy. It made James grin to himself as he sped up the stairs, too excited and turned on to care what anyone else thought. His thighs squeaked a little, leather rubbing together as he walked. He couldn’t wait to get out of those trousers.
Charlie paused at the top of the stairs, waiting a moment for James to catch up. When they were level, Charlie nodded down the corridor to the right. “Two-oh-eight,” he said, waving a hand to indicate that James should go ahead. James glanced down the corridor but hesitated.
Charlie stepped forward, reaching out to sweep James’s hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper. “I want to take a moment to appreciate those trousers before I tear them off of you.” James inhaled sharply, turning away from Charlie with some difficulty and setting off quickly down the corridor. Charlie may want to admire him but James just couldn’t wait to get his hands and mouth on Charlie. He was so focused on that thought that he carried on past the door, turning back with a small embarrassed laugh. Charlie strolled over to him, casual, unhurried and amused.
“Eager?”
James blushed slightly, but determinedly met Charlie’s eye. “Open the bloody door and I’ll show you,” he promised. Charlie fished the key card out of his pocket and opened the door, pulling James in behind him.
Before the door could swing closed, James found himself pinned to the wall by a sturdy chest and broad shoulders. Charlie’s mouth was on his before he was expecting it, insistent and demanding. James moaned into the kiss, hands tangling in Charlie’s hair, hips rolling. He could feel Charlie’s burgeoning erection against his thigh and he dropped a hand to Charlie’s arse, urging him closer.
“Fuck, those trousers,” Charlie panted, pulling away to leave a trail of slow kisses against James’s neck. James’s hand in Charlie’s hair tried to steer him back, but Charlie wouldn’t budge. “They should be illegal. I know I should be taking my time with you—”
“No you shouldn’t.” That was the last thing James wanted.
“No? Do you like things a little… frantic?” He planted a slow kiss just above James’s collarbone. “Desperate?” Teeth scraped against his jaw and James moaned his encouragement. “Rough?” A light bite that time, just below James’s ear.
“Fuck, yes,” James groaned, fingers curled under the hem of Charlie’s vest. “Just rough, though. I’m not into, y’know, heavier stuff.”
Charlie kissed his mouth again and James could taste the vanilla on his tongue. “Works for me,” Charlie smiled, pulling James’s t-shirt roughly over his head and letting it drop to the floor. He grabbed James around the waist, steering him towards the bed and practically throwing him onto it. James shuffled back on his elbows, watching Charlie confidently pull off his vest. James’s breath caught in his throat, eyes exploring Charlie’s chest, taking in muscle and nipple piercings and the smattering of chest hair and freckles and that tattoo. James didn’t know much about dragons, but the work was still impressive. The dark scales looked to have a rough texture, its eyes a brilliant purple against Charlie’s sternum. The dragon’s front claw seemed to clutch his pectoral muscle, its huge wing wrapping over Charlie’s shoulder and the arrow-shaped tail curling around his biceps.
Charlie knelt on the bed, straddling James’s legs. A firm hand on his shoulder pushed James flat onto his back and Charlie leant down, tracing James’s nipple ring with his tongue. James hummed his appreciation, hands roaming across all the skin they could reach, which wasn’t a lot. He was about to pull at Charlie’s arms, get him back into kissing distance when Charlie caught the ring between his teeth and tugged. The pleasure-pain shot straight from his nipple to his cock, causing him to arch his back as he moaned Charlie’s name. Charlie looked up at him with a sort of pleased satisfaction before deftly undoing James’s trousers. He had to climb off the bed, pausing to slip off James’s shoes before continuing to slowly peel off the trousers while James raised his bum then offered out one leg at a time. He’d felt sexy with them on but not so much now. He felt a little silly, and sweaty, and itchy from his leg hairs being pinned in various directions.
“Hang on, can—I just need my wand, a sec.”
Charlie retrieved James’s pale wand from the charmed pocket of his leather trousers, smiling down at it for a moment before handing it over. James distracted himself with muttering the charm to freshen himself up. He used to hate how distinctive his wand was, the reputation dogwood had and the assumptions people would make about him because of it. In his teens he’d gone so far as to try varnishing it to change the colour. That, of course, had ended badly and with a thorough telling off from Dad. The family owl still didn’t trust him.
Charlie knew what he was like, though, knew that he’d never exactly been one to play by the rules, yet he was still here. James wondered wryly if that could actually be a contributing factor as to why Charlie was here. He passed it back to Charlie, who placed it and his own on the bedside table. James was too busy trying to quickly wrestle his socks off to notice Charlie toeing off his shoes and dropping his trousers. He’d just managed to free his feet when Charlie descended on him again, thumb flicking at his pierced nipple as he kissed him deeply. James wriggled to work a hand between them, desperate to move things along a little quicker.
Charlie gave a contented sigh as James cupped him through his pants, nudging at James’s jaw with his nose to better get at his neck. James was glad that Charlie was distracted with his neck rather than looking at his face. He was shit at hiding his emotions and he’d have been mortified if Charlie had noticed the disappointment when James finally got his hands on Charlie’s package. He’d had high expectations, which seemed rather unjustified and stupid now. James wasn’t naive. He knew that a big cock didn’t guarantee a decent shag — he’d put that theory thoroughly through its paces — but he’d never had a memorable fuck from someone with an average dick, and at first grope, he suspected Charlie was maybe a little below average.
Charlie batted his hand away, grabbing James by the shoulder and flipping him over. Before James could react, strong hands were on his hips, yanking him easily up onto his hands and knees. He was going to have a satisfying number of bruises to discover in the morning.
“You might want to chuck up a privacy charm,” James said, pushing back into the hands now kneading at his arse.
“Noisy, are you?” Charlie asked, pressing kisses along the small of James’s back. James felt the bed move behind him, heard the subtle slide of clothing and knew Charlie had wriggled out of his boxers.
“If you’re doing it right.”
“Well in that case, let them listen,” Charlie chuckled, jerking James’s pants down and spreading his cheeks. Slick fingers brushed across his hole and James knew he should be wondering where the lube came from but then Charlie pushed a finger inside and James couldn’t give a fuck anymore. One became two too quickly and James buried his face in the duvet, muffling his moans as Charlie finger-fucked him through the burn. In no time at all he felt the blunt tip of Charlie’s cock against him, the pressure slowly increasing until the head slipped inside. James rocked back and Charlie took the silent hint, sinking in until his hips were flush to James’s arse. The ache was ebbing already, James already missing the slight painful edge that enhanced his pleasure. Perhaps this was a mistake.
Charlie started to move then, short sharp thrusts as he clutched at James’s hips. James pushed back and moaned, hoping Charlie would catch on. Apparently he did because he built the pace quickly, pulling James back onto him with as much force, fingertips biting into his skin. That was more like it, James thought.
Charlie paused, moving his knees, adjusting his position. James, already panting, took the opportunity to push himself up onto his hands. As Charlie started to move again, a hand found it’s way into James’s hair, pulling hard enough that he had to arch his back and tip his head up. That was it, the edge, that little hint of pain that James needed to really get him going.
“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, “Fuck me harder.”
The hand in his hair yanked even harder and James went with it, kneeling up. Charlie’s other hand came up from his hips, crossing James’s chest to grab his far shoulder. One sharp thrust and James cried out as Charlie nailed his prostate. Guys usually glanced past it — which felt good in its own way — but Charlie was just the right length to hit it dead on at this angle. It was a real, intense, toe-curling pleasure.
Charlie let go of his hair, wrapping his arm instead around James’s hips, holding him tightly. He snapped his hips faster than James ever thought possible, tearing breathily broken sounds from James’s throat. It was hard, and just the right kind of deep, and fast and all James could do was let it happen. It was exhilarating, overwhelming, freeing to be so out of control. He’d have expected it to be scarier, but this was Charlie and this near-brutal power fucking came in short bursts. Charlie slowed down for a while, hot breaths and wet kisses falling across James’s shoulders before it would start again.
When Charlie let him go, pushed him down, turned him over, James could only happily let him. He was a mess of over-sensitised need and uncoordinated limbs. As Charlie pushed in again, James looked up at him, through the frame of Charlie’s hair hanging down and James’s legs sticking up. He wrapped his hand around his cock, coming across his chest with a moan and a shaky sigh. When James had ridden out his orgasm, tension leaving his muscles as he flopped back onto the bed, Charlie pulled out and sat back on his knees. James frowned to himself. He hadn’t noticed Charlie come. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had.
“Alright?” Charlie asked somewhat hesitantly.
“Yeah,” James replied quickly. “I mean… Did you—?”
“Oh yeah,” Charlie grinned emphatically.
Charlie moved beside him, leaning back against the headboard. James could see Charlie’s wrist tattoo the right way up now, but he still wasn’t entirely sure what it was, there was so much detail. There were definitely Quidditch goals in the background near the top, and lots of wispy lines, swirling. James sat up, nervous uncertainty fluttering in his stomach. “Do you want me to fuck off now?”
“You don’t have to,” Charlie said easily, stretching. James watched the way his dragon tattoo moved as he did so.
“Alright then,” James shrugged, sounding as casual and uncaring as he could manage while curling up next to Charlie. “But don’t think this means I’m sticking around. I’m still not looking for a relationship, even if you are the best fuck I’ve had so far.”
“Well, just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean you won’t find one so keep your eyes open, yeah?”
They fell into comfortable silence for a while as James mulled that over. He thought it sounded a lot like ‘don’t make the same mistake I did.’ He also realised that those wispy lines looked quite a bit like a tornado. Shit. He’d done a great job of convincing himself the stories really weren’t Charlie, and that made going after him okay. Well, as okay as going after your much older Uncle can be. Better than going after your mate’s ex. He knew it probably wasn’t his place to say anything, but then again it wasn’t like it could do any harm at that point.
“Were you thinking of him?”
Charlie tensed up, drawing himself up into more of a sitting position. “What—”
“I don’t mind if you were,” James rambled, turning to face him, “I was just wondering. When I started school I used to get mistaken for him quite a lot, but I don’t think we’re so alike now. At least, no one’s stopped me in the street to ask for my autograph yet.”
Charlie was frowning and looking defensive. “I don’t know who you’re—”
“Bobby.” And with that single word, the blustery bravado and denial that had been so ready to leave Charlie’s lips evaporated. They both knew that very few people called him Bobby. To the rest of the world he was Rob Hutchins, latest signing for the Tutshill Tornadoes and the next big keeper in the national leagues. “We didn’t really know each other at school but when he came back from Romania his friends tried to set us up. We got on great, but neither of us wanted to get involved with anyone so… We’re just mates.”
“And he told you — What did he tell you?”
“Well, he never actually told me it was you…” James grimaced.
Charlie looked at him fondly. “But you read between the lines, right?”
“Something like that.” James muttered, letting his gaze linger on the wrist tattoo. “He calls you his ‘wild guy’.”
“Does he now?” Charlie huffed with amusement.
“Oh he speaks very highly of you.” He saw a flicker of something painful pass across Charlie’s expression and wished he could shove the words back in. “He misses you.”
Charlie gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, well, I fucked up big time, as you probably already know. I didn’t realise what he really meant to me until he got tired of sharing.” He rolled out of bed, sifting through discarded clothing and retrieving his trousers.
“Look, this is probably really weird coming from the guy you just fucked but I didn’t plan this. I honestly thought I was a little crazy for thinking it was you and… Well, it’s obvious you regret it, so you should know it’s not too late.”
Charlie paused on one leg, foot half way down his trouser leg before shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. “He’s young, hot and famous, he won’t be waiting around for some rough dragon geek with commitment issues.” He finished pulling his jeans on and zipped up.
“Not waiting, no…” James said carefully, “But he can’t get you out of his head. No one compares to his wild guy.”
“He said that?”
“He still loves you, Charlie. If you’re ready to stop fucking around, you only have to prove it.”
Charlie crawled across the bed, hand coming up to cup James’s jaw. He gently held him still, bringing his lips to James’s forehead and leaving a lingering kiss there.
“You’re going to make one kinky bastard very happy one day, Jamie.”
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for him, Uncle,” James chuckled. Charlie grabbed his wand and pulled on his vest.
“You do that, kid,” he said fondly. “Now get dressed and piss off, I’ve got the apology of my life to plan.”
It wasn’t the first time James had been kicked out after sex, but he’d never been happier.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Charlie sat nervously between his partner and his one-night-stand. It was far from the first time the three of them had been together but tonight was different, not that James knew it yet.
Bobby hadn’t made it easy for Charlie to walk back into his life, and Charlie thought that was fair enough. He’d always tried to be a good friend to Bobby, and an attentive lover in the bedroom, but that had been that. He had made sure that there was no crossover — no cuddles on the couch, casual hand-holding or pecks on the cheek — that could confuse the issue or muddy the waters. Ultimately, that wasn’t good enough for Bobby. He’d needed more.
But now Charlie was ready to provide, and he had been. It had been easier than Charlie had expected, in a way. He didn’t have to constantly think of ways to prove his feelings, it just happened rather naturally. He held the occasional door open, got up on his days off to make breakfast before Bobby headed off to training, attended most of his matches: he was just there for him, always. And Bobby was there for him too. It was surprisingly nice, the security in that reliability.
Still, Charlie had been surprised when Bobby had suggested tonight. He’d thought that, given his own past, that sort of thing would be strictly out of the question — that he was now and would remain a one-man man.
He watched Bobby down his drink, placing it down loudly before stretching out with a sigh. James was looking at him curiously. Bobby was trying to sound casual, fingertips drumming lightly on the table.
“So, let’s get this out of the way first.” He spoke directly to James. “We all know that each of us has slept with the other.”
James’s reaction was adorable. He looked shocked, mortified and turned on in equal measure. Back before they were officially together, Charlie had forewarned James that he was going to come clean to Bobby, but James probably hadn’t expected Bobby to tell Charlie about the few times they’d slept together as friends.
“And although we are totally committed to each other, we think it could be fun to… share.”
James looked a little concerned, but Charlie was too distracted by the fluttery feeling in his stomach at hearing Bobby say ‘committed’.
“If you’re going to ask me something, then ask,” James said, in a tone which gave nothing away.
Bobby definitely looked nervous. Charlie moved his hand to Bobby’s knee under the table, offering him a small supportive smile. James seemed to clock it, too.
“Look,” Bobby sighed, “I know you’ve wanted to try a threesome for ages. We trust you. Are you up for another one-off or not?”
With his hand on Bobby’s knee, Charlie could feel the tension leave his boyfriend as James’s face lit up in a grin.
“Sign me up.”
Fin