Life Goes On Pt. 2 Neville Big Bang
Sep. 5th, 2010 02:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acquiescenceLife at the Burrow was even better after Neville had moved in properly, he hadn’t been aware of the way the house swayed gently at night, the creaking groans of the house moving pulled him toward sleep each night, the sound of others sleeping, snoring, talking downstairs quietly. It was good.
Even after the strange conversation he’d shared with Charlie that night, Neville’s heart had raced and he was sure he’d turned ten shades of red before Charlie had left. But Charlie never said anything about it.
Things got even better when Neville found a job. Harry and Ron had long since made their decision to join the Aurors official, and they spent their days training and joining the more seasoned Aurors out on real missions in their first few weeks. That left Neville with a good deal of time on his hands during day, the time he’d used to spend talking with Harry and Ron.
Professor Sprout had come through on her promise to help him find something to do with his free time. And Neville decided he couldn't have found a better fitting job than the one he'd been gifted with. So at the end of each day he came home to the Burrow, hands caked in soil, sweaty and satisfied in a days work completed. It’s was good feeling, knowing he was getting something done - something real and tangible and something he’d be able to watch grow for years to come.
And perhaps that was part of the reason he’d always liked Herbology, the real results you got from it. He didn’t have to stand around anxiously, waiting to see if his work was satisfactory, the way he did with potions, and it wasn’t like working for the Aurors, where he heard they spent months training without getting out and doing anything. With Herbology, Neville could see his results at the end of every day.
Neville kicked off his boots just inside the front door, he had already learned better than to go tracking with his muddy boots through the house. It wasn’t quite time for dinner so Neville made his way up the winding stairs to his room to change and catch a shower before Molly called them all down to eat.
He stripped off his clothes, and wrapped a towel around his waist before he left the room crossing the landing to the bathroom.
The water was hot, nearly scalding as he stepped beneath the spray, and Neville pressed a hand against the cool tile wall of the shower and ducked his head under the stream of water, letting it wash away all the evidence of his day spent working in the dirt. He could feel it loosening muscles and sliding hot against his skin and it was the best sort of reward after a long hard day of honest work.
Neville really couldn’t think of anything better than this.
And it was only grudgingly that he turned off the water, the last thing he wanted was to come out looking like a prune, and wrapped the towel around his waist again after rubbing it over his hair quickly.
Years spent living in dorms has rid Neville of much of his shyness about being seen naked, and while he would never put himself on display, his bare chest wasn’t something that bothered him, so he didn’t think twice about opening the door to the bathroom and crossing the landing a second time that evening back to his room.
What Neville hadn’t counted on was Charlie standing just inside the door to his room when he entered it again, and he ran right into the back of him stumbling, and only just managed to keep hold of his towel saving himself a very slow and painful death by mortification.
Charlie caught Neville round the upper arm to keep him from crashing into the floor and Neville wondered how Charlie had been able to right himself fast enough to save him as well, not that he would have asked.
The blush started somewhere at the roots of his hair, and Neville could feel it creeping down lower through his face and neck and then down to his chest as his brain caught up to the thought he'd just had. He'd run into Charlie, nearly knocked them both to the floor, all while wearing nothing but a towel. The possibility of dying from pure mortification felt like a very real possibility in that moment.
“All right there?” Charlie asked.
“Um… yeah, yeah fine.” Neville stuttered, wanting to die, he was standing there blushing practically down to his toes now and very nearly naked with Charlie.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Charlie shrugged. “I thought you were out in the garden or something, I didn’t know you were just in the shower.”
Now that Neville thought about it, he supposed it should have been weird that Charlie was standing there in his room the way he had been, but it was his room, he should be able to come up here and look around if he wanted.
“I … um.” He didn’t really know what to say, “I just got home actually, bit dirty really. Working in the garden does that though I suppose. I’ve been working up at Hogwarts with Professor Sprout; we’re getting the green houses going again so they can start using them again next term. We’ve made a lot of progress really - it’s amazing the sort of plants they have there, did you know they have some plants--” He had just been getting ready to start talking about the new plants they had gotten from South America; they really were going to be a brilliant addition to the green houses. It almost made Neville wish he was going to be a student again the next term, before he'd remembered he was all ready working with the plants.
Of course he didn’t get to say any of that, because before he could go on rambling and filling the awkward silence with anything more Charlie had kissed him. Neville’s eyes went wide when he realized what had happened, but it was like his brain had shorted out, and all he could focus on was the feeling of Charlie’s lips against his own.
It wasn’t at all like any kiss he’d ever had before - not that Neville had a world of experience with kissing, but he’d had a few in the past, but this was … it was electric. Charlie blocked out everything else that was going on in the house, and Neville found himself leaning into the kiss, making it last just a bit longer.
“Charlie!” It was Molly’s voice that interrupted them, and Charlie pulled away from Neville faster than he would have thought possible.
He glanced at Neville for a long moment before he turned without saying anything and disappeared down the stairs.
His heart was racing, and Neville could only stare dumbly at the spot Charlie had just vacated, he wasn’t entirely sure that had just happened. Or if he’d managed to make up the entire encounter in his head some how. That seemed more likely than anything that had just happened.
And later after Neville had dressed and came down to dinner, Charlie was there having dinner with the rest of the family. Neville cast furtive glances in the older man’s direction trying to see if there was something about him that seemed different, but he couldn’t see anything out of place - anything that said that Charlie had kissed him tonight. But could you really read that sort of thing on a person’s face?
Neville wasn’t sure.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Charlie had repeated the words over and over to himself all night. All the way down the stairs, and all through dinner, and then afterwards as he left the Burrow as quickly as he could without his mother giving him a hard time. And he’d been repeating the words to himself ever since he got home.
Charlie sat on his couch in the dim light that filtered in through the window, glass in hand and an open bottle of fire whiskey within easy reach. He had his eyes closed and his head tipped back toward the ceiling. What had he been thinking? Kissing Neville? Of all the people in the world, he’d thought that Neville would be the right person to snog?
He really must be losing his mind.
Swirling the amber liquid slowly, Charlie brought the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. He’d put the firewiskey away not long after he’d come back from St. Mungo’s, sure he’d spent a week or two drinking himself to sleep most nights, but after that he’d decided if he ever was going to get his job back he was going to need to put it away. He’d done pretty well up to this point, but now there was Neville, and his very stupid decision to kiss Neville, that had him drinking again.
He had already forgotten his reason for going upstairs, he was looking for Neville, to talk to him - some where along the line Neville had become the person Charlie could talk to. Not that he did it often, or said much when he sought him out, but he’d been able to say things to Neville he’d never been able to tell his family. And he’d needed to talk tonight.
Instead he found Neville practically naked, and he'd been an idiot – kissing him
It had been rash and foolish, but Charlie had always been the sort to act on emotions, but then that was how he'd gotten himself into his current situations. He let his emotions rule when he should take time to think, pause and consider the consequences of his actions. His whole being had told him to kiss Neville in that moment.
Neville the one person who he'd been able to talk to about anything that had been going on in his mind, the boy who had some how become the one person Charlie could be completely honest about anything. It was something he'd needed in his life, more than he'd realized. But once he'd started opening up to Neville, just a few short secrets every time he came to the house, Charlie found he hadn't been able to stop himself. It was like the flood gates had been open and he was unable to stop the words falling from his mouth.
Just as he'd been unable to stop himself from kissing Neville. And now he would have ruined the one good thing in his life. But then Charlie wasn't meant to have nice things, he knew that, but it didn't make the loss of them any easier to bear.
He didn’t know what to do when he finished, thankfully though he’d been saved by his mother, calling him down to talk about his plans for returning to work - he still didn’t have any at the moment. He’d told her he was still healing; he still kept the cane to walk. Though that wasn't entirely true, he still limped slightly, but it wasn’t enough that he needed the cane - it made him feel better to have it, giving him something to lean on when it felt like all he wanted to do was fall apart. He held on tightly to the cane, more for emotional support – to help him deal with his mother and her pestering, to deal with the truth of just how badly he'd fucked up, and to cope with the loss he still felt so fresh in his heart. He wasn't ready to go back, even if he was walking without a limp – he wasn't ready for that yet.
The truth was, he was still suspended, he was taking his time putting things back together. It had been two months already, and Charlie still hadn’t gone to talk to Mark about getting his job back. It would still be there, but Charlie needed some time, to figure things out.
He’d been doing good, figuring things out, his family, his own life, the things he wanted. And now here he was finding solace at the bottom of a bottle again. It was comforting though, that warm wash of fire whiskey as it slid down his throat, warming him from the inside - it was always the same, and it made his mind cloudy, things never did seem quite so bad as he floated.
And he let himself think about Neville, what it had been like to kiss him, how easy it was to talk to him, when he hadn’t been able to talk to anyone else in his family about what had been going on his life. Neville was safe in so many ways that his family wasn’t.
And he'd gone and fucked that up royally all because he couldn't think of anything to say and so instead kissed Neville like a fucking idiot.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"I'd really rather not." Charlie groaned, arm thrown over his face as he stretched out down the length of his sofa, hoping, though he knew it was probably useless, that his brother would finally just give up and go without him.
"Not a chance."
"Why do you have to be such a prat?"
"Why do you have to be such a stubborn arse?" Charlie could practically see the look on Ron's face even with his arm over his eyes. He just knew that Ron was glaring at him, but it wasn’t the glare Ron used for when he was actually upset, this was the one that he used whenever Charlie refused to do something he wanted him to do.
"It's how I was made, kid."
"Stuff it, you're coming out with us."
"No I'm not."
"Yes, Charlie, you are. I'm not leaving until you do." And Ron called him the stubborn one. Charlie wanted to hex his brother, wanted to get him out of his house. He wasn't in the mood to go out – wasn't in the mood for drinks, and even if he had been he had more than enough stashed away in the back of a shelf in the kitchen.
"Don't make me start singing." Ron warned him.
And then Charlie was actually considering hexing Ron, and not just in a hypothetical sort of way either. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to sit around his flat for the rest of the night coming up with song after song to sing until he finally got his way.
"One of these days, I'm going to hex you and there won't be anything you can do about it." Charlie grumbled as he sat up. Ron had a triumphant look on his face, all traces of annoyance gone.
"You won't, you love me too much."
"Not that much."
Ron just rolled his eyes at his brother's griping. They both knew Charlie would say yes eventually just like he knew that Charlie would never actually hex him with anything too horrible – after all, once you survived one of Ginny's bat boogey hexes nothing Charlie would do to him seemed all that terrible.
"Come on and get your arse up, we're already late."
Charlie waved his brother off, his brother might be able to drag him along for the evening, but Charlie was damn well going to take his time about it. Besides if he was going to have to spend his evening drinking with Ron and his friends he might as well enjoy the time he had to annoy his brother, it would help make the evening all the more bearable for him, and that was truly the important part in all of this. Charlie took his time getting up. Then of course, he had to change, making them even more late, causing Ron to issue a series of choice words Charlie was sure his mother would not approve of, but just made Charlie grin while he picked out a new shirt to wear and pulled on a pair of boots before he finally declared himself ready to go.
“About time.” Harry greeted them when they arrived, he and Hermione were already sitting in one side of a booth and Ron somehow managed to slide himself in there with them, leaving the other side open for Charlie. He was already sliding in to his seat when he noticed that Neville was there as well - perfect.
“Yes well someone decided they needed to go through their entire wardrobe to pick something to wear tonight.” Charlie kicked Ron under the table for that one. “Oy!” Ron glared at him and waved over a waitress ordering for both himself and Charlie as well as another round for the others.
“I think what my brother is trying to say is that some of us just like to do whatever we can to annoy those of us who attempt to drag us out when we were perfectly fine at home.” Charlie smirked at his brother. He did his best not to look too much at Neville, no sense in making any of this even more awkward than it already was for the both of them.
All in all it wasn’t too terrible, having Harry and Hermione there as well helped to smooth things out and Hermione‘s constant chatter ensured they never slipped into silence for too long. They all had several drinks, and after a few hours of talking and laughing Charlie felt a bit more relaxed about everything, thanks in large part to the 4 pints he’d had up to that point. He’d even let himself talk to Neville, laughing at a few of the amusing stories the younger man told them about working with some particular plants and the trouble they gave him.
Charlie liked listening to Neville talk, the smooth cadence of his voice, and the sort of shy way he had about him even when he seemed perfectly content in who he was and what he was doing. He liked that about him, Neville was unassuming, he could so easily be just like Harry and Ron, and enjoy the sort of celebrity that came with being such a big part of the final battle, and yet Neville was content to work with plants each day, and keep to himself. It was just so different from what Charlie would have expected from a friend of his brother that he was taken by surprise by Neville more often than not.
“We’re gonna go.” Harry said finally, a hand pushing through his messy hair, though you couldn’t actually tell if he’d made it better or worse when he dropped his hand. Hermione yawned, her head on Ron’s shoulder - Charlie didn’t think it was quite late enough for that, but then again Hermione didn’t usually drink the way she had tonight either. It made her more fun he thought, even if drunken Hermione had a tendency to quote Hogwarts: A History more often than was strictly necessary in any conversation, even one about the book itself.
“Go?” Charlie found himself asking, Ron had dragged him out tonight and now they were leaving? Just when Charlie had decided he was glad he’d come in the first place.
“Yes Charlie,” Ron rolled his eyes at him. “Some of us have to work in the morning.”
“On a Saturday?”
“No rest for the weary,” Hermione sing-songed, humming something to herself, and Ron just shrugged like that explained everything.
“Coming Nev?” Harry asked as he waited for Ron to slide out of the booth, he nudged Hermione along while he waited for Neville’s answer.
“I think I might stay a bit longer, actually.” It sounded more like a question than a statement and Charlie turned to look at Neville then, wondering what he was thinking now.
“You sure Nev?” Harry asked, together with Ron they were able to get Hermione to her feet, letting her lean against Ron while Harry got to his feet.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, and unlike you two I don’t have work in the morning." He paused to give the both of them a reassuring smile before he continued. "I’m fine.” He waved them off, sounding far more confident than Charlie had expected.
“All right then,” Both Ron and Harry shared a look and then shrugged together, like they had choreographed the motion. “We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Neville just nodded and then Ron, Harry, and Hermione left. Charlie sipped at his beer slowly for a long moment before he gave Neville a considering look. It might have been the alcohol, or it might have been that Charlie was just an idiot, but he figured there wasn’t anything to lose. “You want to come back to my flat?” He asked Neville, who managed to ruin the confident image he’d been holding on to, since the two of them found themselves alone, by nearly choking on his drink. “I have better alcohol than this back there, and it’s already paid for.”
“Um, yeah sure.” Neville regained just a bit of his self-control, shaking off one of his hands that he’d managed to get wet. Charlie couldn’t help the smile that spread easily across his face when Neville accepted his invitation.
Charlie poured them both a healthy dose of fire whiskey after they’d gotten back to his flat. Neville was sitting on his couch now, hands in his lap while he looked around, obviously trying not to look too interested in anything in particular but definitely taking things in while he thought Charlie was occupied.
“Thanks.” Neville’s voice was quiet as he took the glass from Charlie, wrapping both hands around it, balancing the drink on the tops of his knees.
Charlie sat down beside Neville, not in his space, though no where near as far as he might have sat with anyone else. This was a horribly bad idea, Charlie could see that already, feel it coursing through his veins, the wrongness of having Neville here in his home. It’s not like at the Burrow when they run into each other on the stairs, or when he finds Neville out past the field catching a small bit of peace, or even like sitting across from each other at the dinner table with the rest of the family around. This was so much more visceral than any of their previous encounters had been.
This was yet another stupid decision in a line of many, Charlie knew it and yet he couldn't seem to help himself. He liked having Neville there, liked watching the way he gripped the glass, the way his thumbs traced around the rim, the way he wet his lips, and did all that he could to keep from actually looking at Charlie.
Throwing back what little of the amber liquid remained in his glass Charlie set it down on the coffee table, and then took Neville's though he hadn't seemed to take an interest in it, letting the glass join his own.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
The mantra repeated in his head, but Charlie was so past caring at that point. Perhaps he could blame it on the drinks, he had several after all, but when it came down to it Charlie knew what he was doing. He was a Weasley after all, and the Weasleys were nothing if not born drinkers. And Charlie knew exactly what he was doing as he reached out to Neville, fingers curling against Neville's cheek and he turned the younger man's face to his – and he knew what he was doing when he leaned in closing what little of the space that still remained between them. And he damn well knew what he was doing when he pressed his lips against Neville's. Only this time, he didn't pull away – there wasn't going to be anyone calling his name from downstairs now.
This time Charlie took his time, slowly kissing Neville – a gentle experiment, a press of lips, cautious at first, giving Neville the chance to push him away, to make him stop if that was what he truly wanted. And when Neville didn't push him away, when it became clear that Neville might even be interested in more Charlie really let himself kiss him. He let his tongue sweep forward, a slow exploration now, pushing past the soft warmth of Neville's lips and into his mouth. Charlie let himself map out Neville's mouth, learning the taste of him, all of it mixed with the drinks they'd had that night, but that low undercurrent of Neville still there under all of it.
And then Neville's hand was pressed against his chest, and Charlie drew up short. He didn't pull back, but he stilled, always cautious – in much the same way as he had while working with dragons on the reserve. Moving slowly, taking his time, he didn't want to scare Neville – didn't want to give him any reason to suddenly pull out of this, not when he had him so close to where he wanted him now.
Neville whimpered, fingers curling into the fabric of Charlie’s shirt and he was pretty sure right in that moment that was the best sound he’d ever heard and it was a sound of permission if he had ever heard one. And before that voice could chime up again that this was a huge fucking mistake, Charlie was on his feet, pulling Neville up with him. He crowded himself into Neville’s personal space easily, eagerly, fingers curled around the back of his neck holding him close even while he made Neville walk, leading him blindly from the living room back down the hallway and into his bedroom.
It was only when the backs of Neville’s thighs hit the bed that Charlie managed to separate his mouth from Neville’s, to remind himself to ask - not to just take, no matter how much of him just wanted to do exactly that, to take what he was sure they both wanted.
“Tell me to stop.” He breathed against Neville’s lips. “Tell me right now.” Charlie bit at the corner of Neville’s mouth, wanting him to do anything other than tell him no right now. Charlie wasn’t sure what he would have done if Neville had said no, if he’d told him to stop - his pulse was already racing, thrumming through his veins with a deep abiding chorus of want just looking at Neville, watching the way he bit at his lower lip, like he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted.
It wasn’t until Neville shook his head, pulled at Charlie’s shirt and leaned up pressing his lips against Charlie’s again - without the same sense of understanding and experience that Charlie had, but not bad for all the want Neville actually put into the motion - not until then that Charlie let himself release the breath he’d been holding. Just waiting for that permission. This was what he had been waiting for, and Charlie wasn’t going to let that voice, which was reminding him of just how stupid all of this was, distract him from what he wanted a second time.
It was easy to manhandle Neville, pushing and prodding him until he got him up into his bed, all laid out for him like this was all he wanted too. A thrill shot down Charlie’s spine as he took in the sight of Neville in his bed, just waiting for him.
“Have you done this before?” Charlie shouldn’t have been surprised at the pitch of his voice, he could feel just how much he wanted this, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to hear that want echoed in his voice.
Neville bit his lip, worrying it to a delicious redness between his teeth before he shook his head, and all Charlie could think in that moment was how he wanted to take Neville’s lips between his teeth too, run his tongue over the swollen skin and taste him there. And fuck if hearing that bit of news didn’t make Charlie want him that much more.
“All right,” Charlie nodded, watching Neville as he moved closer, deciding just what it was they were going to do tonight – though a million ideas were rolling around in his head all fighting for his attention, all something that screamed it had to be done now, now, now.
But Charlie was nothing if not a gentleman, and tonight was going to be for Neville – he wanted to watch him fall apart, and learn what it was to be wanted, and what it was to enjoy what his body could give him. Just thinking about it made Charlie want to forget all his plans for drawing this out and slide right into that warm pliant body and just take. “All right.” He said again.
He could take his time, make sure Neville enjoyed this, make sure they both enjoyed this. Charlie could do that.
He kissed Neville again, moving up the bed so he could hold himself over him, kissing and biting his way into Neville’s mouth again, letting his tongue sooth over all the places his teeth found purchase for however brief a moment. He took his time kissing Neville, showing him what kissing could really be, feeling Neville respond to just that simple touch.
Only when Neville was gasping into each kiss, fingers no where near as slow or tentative as they had been, Charlie could feel the want in the way Neville grasped at his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt - pulling, silently asking for something he didn’t yet know how to give voice to, but Charlie would make sure he knew before the night was over. He chuckled lightly, breath warm against Neville’s skin as he let his teeth skim down the length of Neville’s throat. Charlie could feel the warmth of his skin, the thrum of his heart beat, each shiver of desire that coursed through Neville there against his tongue.
Marking Neville as he went, Charlie wanted to see later where he’d left his mark on Neville, no where near as permanent as a small part of him would have liked, but each little bite was a start for now. Enough for tonight.
His fingers found their way up under Neville’s shirt, pushing it up, so his hands could splay wide across bare skin - feel the warmth against his palms, the way Neville’s breath hitched, with each new caress. Charlie pulled the shirt off, tossing it aside not bothering to look where it ended up - just like he would do with the rest of their clothing during the course of that night.
Sitting back and just looking for a long minute, Charlie decided he liked Neville’s body. It wasn’t toned and hard the way it might have been if Neville had joined up with the Aurors the way Harry and Ron had, but there was something understated about that, muscles moving beneath the skin, not hardened through working out, but through use - days spent working with plants, moving earth, and helping where he was needed.
There were scars, lancing this way and that up Neville’s chest to his neck, burns, and other marks as well. Charlie wanted to take his time, to map out the path each line took across Neville’s skin and learn the path they created first with his fingers and then his tongue, but he’d save that for another time - he could feel Neville growing restless beneath his wandering fingers.
He soothed him, pressing kisses against his lips and then starting to work lower, biting a line of kisses against Neville’s jaw, down to his neck, teeth scraping along the length of his throat. Neville made the best noises, little mewling whimpers, clutching at the sheets and Charlie could have quite happily spent the rest of the night exploring Neville’s body and seeing what noises he could coax from him.
But he continued forward, biting and licking his way down Neville’s chest, stopping long enough to tease both his nipples- long enough to have Neville arching up off the bed, silently asking for more, and yet as before he was still unable to ask for what he wanted, and so Charlie kept up his slow torturous pace, until he reached the waist of Neville’s jeans. Instead of removing them immediately Charlie continued kissing his way down, over the denim, pressing slow heated kisses against Neville, feeling just how hard he had him already.
It was only when one of Neville’s hands found its’ way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves into his hair and pulling that Charlie smirked, lifting his head to see the want plain on Neville’s face.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice was low, rough, and just barely above a whisper.
Neville closed his eyes, panted, and tightened his grip on Charlie’s hair trying to pull him, to show him what he wanted. Charlie resisted, moving everywhere but where Neville wanted him.
“You need to say it.” He pressed his face against Neville now, nuzzling against him.
Neville groaned, his hips straining to rise off the bed, though Charlie held him firmly, keeping him right where he wanted him until Neville gave him what he wanted.
“Please.” The words were quiet, so quiet that Charlie couldn’t be sure he had heard them at all. And he raised his eyes this time, “Please.” This time he could see Neville’s words forming the words. It hadn’t been exactly what Charlie was after, but it was close enough and he’d already drawn this out so long already, he was painfully hard himself, he could only imagine the state Neville was in.
Charlie nodded, moving his hands then, focusing on the buttons and zipper that still kept him from what they both wanted. Neville practically sobbed as Charlie pulled first his jeans and then shorts down, pushing them both off the bed without a glance and pressing his hands against Neville’s hips again, to keep him from moving too much.
A pleasant flush worked its’ way down from Neville’s face now, to his throat and down his chest turning him a gorgeous shade of red, as he covered his face. Charlie chuckled inwardly, and wrapped a hand around Neville’s prick.
“Look at me, Neville.” He made sure to breathe against Neville’s cock as he spoke, letting him feel the sensations. “I want you to see this.” And Charlie waited, fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his cock until Neville managed to drop his hand away from his face, and instead tangled his fingers in the bed sheets, his eyes locked on Charlie’s.
“That’s right.” Charlie hummed, and, while Neville watched, he opened his mouth and ran his tongue from the tip down to the base of his cock. The response was immediate, and Neville strained against the hand on his hip even more now than he had already, gasping and low whimpers slipping from his lips. He was absolutely gorgeous like this, and Charlie thought for not the first time that night that it was a shame he didn’t have all the time in the world, he’d rather like to completely wear Neville out just like this again and again.
He opened his mouth again, this time angling Neville’s cock so he could take him into his mouth, letting Neville slide into his mouth completely until his lips met his fingers and he could feel the strain all the more now, humming around Neville. It only took a few strokes like that, he’d had Neville so worked up already that, after less than a half dozen strokes, sliding in and out of Charlie’s mouth Neville came with a shout, and a hand in Charlie’s hair, somewhere between trying to pull him off and keep him right where he was.
Charlie licked his lips when he finally did pull away, smirking while he watched Neville lay there, panting for breath ,completely relaxed for him. He kissed his way back up his body, lingering in some areas more than others on his trip back up to Neville’s lips. He took his time kissing Neville again. And only after several long minutes did he pull back.
And before Neville could protest the lack of kisses Charlie was flipping him over. Using his own brute strength to his advantage once again, as he pulled Neville’s hips up moving him into just the right position while he settled behind him.
“Stay, just like that.” Charlie told him, pressing a kiss to Neville’s shoulder and then down his spine before he stood up and rid himself of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he could, before he was back on the bed again.
There were spells for things like this, for making all of this go that much faster and that much easier - for the first time, Charlie had never liked them. He rarely used them even when he wanted just a quick shag, it was so much better doing it himself. A soft snick and then Charlie let his fingers wander, and grinned as Neville tensed beneath him back arching.
Charlie pressed a hand against the small of his back, pushing with even pressure until Neville was back just where he wanted him. He soothed him, pressing kisses against his back while he slowly circled his finger until he could slide it in, and he continued like that at a slow leisurely pace until it was two fingers, and then three. And Neville was no longer limp and strung out, and instead was gasping each time Charlie pressed into him, hips arching, straining for more.
“Just like that.” Charlie nodded, until he couldn’t wait any longer. He chuckled at the whine of protest Neville let out, probably without even thinking about it until the thick head of Charlie’s cock was pressed against him. “Relax for me, Nev.” Charlie kept one hand on Neville’s hip stroking his thumb back and forth slowly.
“Slowly, right, good, just like that.” Charlie spoke softly, slowly, until Neville opened up for him.
Neville was strung tight beneath him once again, and Charlie put both hands on his hips, gripping tightly in an effort both to keep Neville still and to keep a hold on himself. It would have been so easy to lose control here, to just take; especially now as the tight heat of Neville enveloped him.
“Please.” It was the word that pulled Charlie back into the reality of the moment. That plea from Neville asking for more, and how could Charlie deny him?
He pulled back, drawing it out and then slid home again, setting up a rhythm in the first few thrusts he took, reveling in the way Neville shuddered with each one. And then the angle changed, and he was thrusting deeper, faster - hitting the spot that had Neville pressing back against him with each thrust.
And far too soon, Charlie was coming, gasping and wrapping a hand around Neville’s cock and pulling him over the edge right along with him, until it was all too much. Several long minutes passed until Charlie felt like he could even move the mere inches it would take for him to lay down - but he made it eventually, laying down along side Neville, pulling the younger man back against his chest, before he was finally willing to succumb to sleep.
Maybe it had been a stupid idea, but Neville had liked it, he’d thought about Charlie for days after he’d gone back to his flat with him. His muscles pleasantly sore in ways he never imagined they could be, and each day as he knelt on the ground, working his hands into the warm earth, they pulled and stretched, and reminded him of that night.
More than once Neville felt his face heating up as the memories flashed through his mind and he had to quickly think of something horrid just to keep anyone from asking what had him in such a state. It had been amazing to put it mildly. It was the days after that were not so amazing.
The next morning Charlie had gotten up without a word and showered and dressed. He’d told Neville there was coffee if he wanted it, and then disappeared. Neville wasn’t completely sure, but he thought that Charlie was still suspended from the reserve; if he had gotten his job back he hadn’t said anything to anyone about it. Not that Neville really thought of himself as the person Charlie would have told something like that to - but then again he hadn’t ever thought Charlie would tell him he’d been suspended in the first place, or that Charlie would share strange melancholic conversations over the last several months, or that Charlie would take him back to his flat. None of it made sense and yet part of Neville couldn’t help but be glad for it.
He’d liked all of it, he liked that Charlie felt like he could trust him, and he liked knowing there was one person out there in the world who didn’t seem to expect him to be some big god dammed hero after everything that had happened. Charlie seemed to like him just the way he was - or he had.
After that night Neville couldn’t be sure what Charlie thought - maybe he’d realized how stupid it had been. Maybe Charlie had figured out that Neville really wasn’t what he wanted. But he’d held him close that night while they slept, and Neville had liked that, Charlie’s arm around him, leg thrown over his own feeling warmth surround him in a way he’d never even imagined.
It had all been so good.
Which was why he was now having trouble understanding why Charlie seemed to be avoiding him. Sure he wasn’t being obvious about it, and they had never spent lots of time together in the past, but it seemed like he and Charlie talked more than this in the past - but he hadn’t heard anything since that morning. Not since Charlie left him alone in his own flat, staying away probably until he was sure Neville had gone. And he had, gathered his clothes and dressed without showering or taking any of the coffee Charlie had offered - instead he’d gone straight back to the Burrow. Showered and changed there before going back to bed, until Molly came up to check on him later that afternoon.
He didn’t know why he thought Charlie would come and find him after that night, maybe it was stupid to think that he would - but Neville couldn’t seem to help himself. Even if the sex hadn’t been amazing, he'd thought Charlie wouldn’t have been the sort to sleep with he saw on a pretty regular basis, and then avoid them like they had a particularly bad case of dragon pox.
But then how well did he actually know Charlie?
Better than some members of his family, his mind supplied. He knew things about Charlie that he hadn’t even told his own mother. He’d Charlie’s confidant ever since that day he’d told him about the accident on the reserve. He’d been there when Charlie found his way up to his room after family dinners, letting him talk about his life, Fred, his family, his job, and his dragons. Neville had listened to all of it and never asked for anything in return - he was content to be that for Charlie.
Though now, it was harder to think about going back to that.
Could he actually sit on his bed, while Charlie paced, or when Charlie sat with him, and think about anything but that night and how Charlie had made him feel? He didn’t think so. He shouldn’t have to, a small selfish part of him thought. Was it so wrong of him to hope for more after that night? Not just the sex either, though he wouldn’t have complained about that. But he wanted more of Charlie.
It was becoming apparent as the week went on that Charlie wasn’t going to say anything about what happened, he didn’t come to the house during the week the way he had been doing with some regularity, and when the weekend finally came around again and the family gathered for their big Sunday dinner, Charlie came late.
A small part of Neville was glad he’d come at all, but he couldn’t help being annoyed as Charlie sat as far from him as he possibly could at the large table, and then after dinner Charlie started up a game of exploding snap with Ron and Harry. Neville watched him, trying to be discrete but he wasn’t so sure he succeeded, what with the looks Hermione was giving him.
He sighed and went to help Mrs. Weasley with the rest of the dishes, he needed something to do, anything to keep his hands and his mind busy, at least until Charlie was gone. Unfortunately, getting between Molly Weasley and her dishes was one thing that Neville had not learned how to manage just yet, and she was shooing him out of the kitchen with a tin of cookies.
“Be a dear and take these to everyone for me.” Neville suspected she was just giving him something to do, to get him out of the kitchen, but he sighed and did as she asked, setting the tin down on the small table where Ron, Harry, and Charlie were playing.
“Can I talk to you?” He heard himself saying as he glanced at Charlie, horrified as soon as he realized the words had come from his own mouth, but there wasn’t anything to be done for it now.
He had to at least give Charlie a little credit for not trying to put him off; instead he nodded turning his cards down on the table before getting up and walking out of the house without a word. Neville saw Harry and Ron exchanging glances, and Hermione rolling her eyes at the pair of them, but he was going after Charlie, and didn’t stay to hear her call them both completely blind.
It didn’t take him long to catch up to Charlie, and they walked together, in silence out of the house, through the garden, up past the field where they played their pick up games of quid ditch.
The moon shone down on them, providing enough light so that Neville could make out Charlie’s face in the darkness when he finally stopped and turned toward Neville.
“Look, what happened was stupid. It was a mistake.” Neville had been studying the lines of Charlie’s face in the moonlight, watching the way the light played against his features, and it took him a moment to actually hear the words. “You should just forget about it.”
How was he supposed to forget about what happened? Neville already knew that would be impossible. He couldn’t forget all of that - what was the point of any of it if he just forgot now?
“No.” Charlie looked surprised then, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Neville. “You don’t just get to say I should forget it and then we’re done with this.” Neville was surprised at himself; he didn’t know he’d had these words in him. “I’ve been here for you all these months, listening to you, letting you tell me things you won’t even tell your family - I keep your secrets even when I can see how they’re killing you.” Once he’d gotten started it seemed Neville had quite a bit to say.
“And last weekend, I wanted that too. I like being this for you, I like giving you a safe place, one place in all of this that you can be sure of.” He sighed. “You can’t just do what you did and then say forget it, you don’t get to say that to me. Maybe this was a mistake, but it’s not just something you forget.” He sighed, he wasn’t sure where he was going now, he was getting upset and he wanted Charlie to tell him that it would be all right.
“You can’t keep doing this, I can’t always be that person who you talk to and then you disappear. I want to be that for you, but I need more than that, and it’s not fair to me if you just keep taking, and expect me to keep giving..” This seemed like a mistake, pushing Charlie away - but as he spoke the words, Neville knew he meant them, and even if it meant Charlie would never speak to him again, he needed this. He needed more than just quiet confessions while they listening to the family’s laughter downstairs, and he needed more than drunken fucks when Charlie was feeling lonely. He wanted all of Charlie, and the force of that want surprised him. He hadn’t even realized it until now, but he felt it so strongly that he knew he needed all of him or nothing at all. He couldn’t go half way on this.
Neville had spent his whole life being walked over, letting people push him around, and being told he wasn’t quite good enough. It wasn’t until he had been all that was left at Hogwarts that Neville learned how to stand up for himself, how to stand up for his friends, and that wasn’t something he could just forget now. Even if it might have been easier just to forget, he’d fought too hard in the last few years to just give it all up now.
“Tell me that you want me too.” Neville wanted to hear it, but he didn’t want to hope too strongly for it. “Or tell me that you can’t do this, but you don’t get to just avoid this like it never happened. You can think about it some if you want, but you need to make up your mind. I’m not going to wait forever.” And though it pained him to do so, Neville turned and started back toward the house.
He’d let Neville make it nearly back to the garden before Charlie had started after him, running easily - the pain and discomfort from his leg all but forgotten as he chased Neville. He caught his arm and stopped him before he’d reached the garden gate and pulled Neville around to look at him, there was so much he should say, so much that Neville needed to hear. But Charlie was a man of action, he worked hard on the reserve, cared for his dragons as best he could, and he fought for his family when they needed it. And right now all he could give Neville were actions.
He curled his fingers around Neville’s jaw, and pressed their lips together. It was a different sort of kiss than any they had shared up to this point, this one not about what was to follow, not about how much Charlie wanted Neville, or how much he saw that Neville wanted him. This one was about need, the need to hold on to Neville, and keep him close.
Charlie wasn’t sure how it had happened, but Neville had worked himself into his family, into his life, and into his heart all without him even noticing until now. And he put all of that into the kiss they shared now.
“I don’t need to think about it.”
“And then the bartender said ‘may I push in your stool?’” The laughter was explosive as George finished up one of his newest jokes, looking rather pleased with himself, and like maybe he was actually happy. Angelina sat with him; she was slowly becoming a more and more permanent fixture at these family functions as well.
Ron and Harry were wiping at their eyes as the laughter died down, the laughter still making its’ way around the table. Another family dinner that Sunday, and the entire family was gathered together. Bill and Fleur sat together, Bill’s arm protectively around his wife a hand resting on her stomach - though she had only started showing a few weeks earlier. The gesture was still a fond one, and it made Molly smile.
Their family was getting larger every day now it seemed.
Hermione and Ginny were playing with Teddy, bouncing the baby in their laps - though he was starting to look more and more like a little boy. The time passed so quickly now, moving past all of them and never stopping, no matter how much Molly might have liked to hold on to these moments as long as she possibly could.
They had experienced so much pain, some wounds were still sore - and for so long felt like they would never heal. How was she supposed to deal with the loss of her son? The loss of so many of their friends? The war had ripped a great gash down the center of their lives and Molly had felt it was something that could never be repaired, things could never go back to the way they had been in the past.
And that was still true even now. Things were different. There were still missing spaces in their lives, spaces that could never truly be filled by anyone else - though others had joined the family. Those empty spaces could never truly be filled,, but the circle of their family just grew wider to accept them all, to bring them all in. They didn’t have to forget those they’d lost as they moved forward with their lives, there was no way to forget - but they could remember without all the hurt.
It all still needed time of course. But they were moving on.
She smiled watching each of her children there at the table, laughing and enjoying themselves. Charlie sat with them, smile on his face looking happier than she’d seen him in ages. His arm wrapped around the back of Neville’s chair, he was always touching him and it warmed her heart to see that her son had finally found someone who fit him. She had always worried for Charlie especially, he had always been so solitary - and when he’d gone to Romania she worried for him even more.
The development with Neville had been a surprising one, Molly never would have never guessed that this would have happened when she invited Neville to live with them, and yet she couldn’t help but be grateful that it had.
They would survive, the Weasleys were made of strong stuff, she’d always known that. And despite their losses they moved forward with their lives. They grieved together, and they laughed together, and they lived together, and they were stronger for it.