(drabble gift) ... lead the way ...
Written for: galdralag for a meme Drabble challenge...
Characters: Charlie Weasley/Theodore Nott; Set during GoF's TWT.
Summary: Charlie's just delivered the dragons for the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Now, he wants to walk the halls of Hogwarts one last time. But, he finds something else that he desires other than a simple walk down memory lane.
This actually sits well in my Four-Lettered Words longfic
Warnings: Chan implied, obviously.
Rating: PG-13 for content
(It's longer than 100 words... sorry... it just went on its own!)
He just had to, one last time. He had to visit the halls and walk through corridors that held nothing but good memories for him as a youth. One tends to do that when they get old. Not that Charlie Weasley was 'old', mind you. But, after seeing the small, young first- and second-years run about, he couldn't help but feel ancient in comparison.
So many good memories originated from Hogwarts: making Quidditch captain, doing so well in his NEWTS, meeting Oliver... well, technically that wasn’t all that great of a memory. Oliver left him for Marcus Flint, after all.
Still, Hogwarts represented something innocent for Charlie, even during the licentious and heart-breaking times. But the one place he never went - never had reason to go to - was the dungeons leading to the Slytherin common room.
Walking down the stairwell, he came across Theodore Nott, an obvious Slytherin; you can tell by how he stands, leaning against the wall as if he can hold up the castle by sheer will alone. The corridor was filled with the sweet odour of the clove cig that hung precariously from his mouth... seductively.
The new presence startled Theodore. He quickly attempted to hide the cigarette behind his back. His eyes widened in desperation before realizing that Charlie was no professor.
Charlie stopped and watched the young, spindly bloke bring the fag back up to his mouth, parting his lips. His eyes locked on to Charlie, narrowing as he took a drag.
“You a Weasley?” he asked, holding his breath with gritted teeth.
“Uhm, yes,” Charlie answered, the voice catching in his breath.
Theodore’s eyes cruised over Charlie’s body; inspecting it, judging it. He exhaled another breath of smoke and pushed himself from the wall, walking up the steps.
“Follow me,” he ordered with a whisper.
Charlie grabbed Theodore’s wrist and turned him around. He stared at the Slytherin, mouth agape.
“Well...?” Theodore asked, obviously annoyed.
“How... how old are you?” Charlie asked, not believing someone this young could be so brazen.
Theodore wondered if he should lie, but he knew better. He knew exactly what men of Charlie’s predilection liked in a fuck.
“Fourteen,” he answered.
“You... you’re too young.”
Theodore’s sneer turned sultry as he walked closer, placed Charlie’s hand on his crotch, and whispered with hot breath into Charlie’s ear, “I heard you liked them young.”
He squeezed his hand over Charlie’s, who struggled to swallow. He could feel Theodore's cock twitching and swelling.
“I could be thirteen... if that’s what you prefer?” Theodore added with a cruel smile and a dismissive shrug.
“My heart’s spoken for,” he whispered, as if the words made his growing erection subside.
Theodore’s hand cupped Charlie’s groin. With a squeeze he said, “I’m not after your heart, Weasley.”
Charlie felt the same familiar heat rise in his crotch, much like when he first met Oliver - the one who got away. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted to try this Slytherin, see if they all could fuck like gods. Maybe then he could see why someone like Flint could steal someone like Oliver from someone like him.
There were a thousand answers Charlie could have given the young boy, a myriad of reasons why this exchange should go no further. But the need to feel young sometimes translates to the need to feel loved by the young. If Charlie could make this young lad want him -- yearn for him -- then maybe Charlie wasn't all that old from the start.
Yes, there were a thousand answers Charlie could have said to the unspoken question that festered deep in Theodore's eyes: 'Don't you want to?'
Instead, he answered, “Lead the way.”
°
Characters: Charlie Weasley/Theodore Nott; Set during GoF's TWT.
Summary: Charlie's just delivered the dragons for the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Now, he wants to walk the halls of Hogwarts one last time. But, he finds something else that he desires other than a simple walk down memory lane.
This actually sits well in my Four-Lettered Words longfic
Warnings: Chan implied, obviously.
Rating: PG-13 for content
(It's longer than 100 words... sorry... it just went on its own!)
He just had to, one last time. He had to visit the halls and walk through corridors that held nothing but good memories for him as a youth. One tends to do that when they get old. Not that Charlie Weasley was 'old', mind you. But, after seeing the small, young first- and second-years run about, he couldn't help but feel ancient in comparison.
So many good memories originated from Hogwarts: making Quidditch captain, doing so well in his NEWTS, meeting Oliver... well, technically that wasn’t all that great of a memory. Oliver left him for Marcus Flint, after all.
Still, Hogwarts represented something innocent for Charlie, even during the licentious and heart-breaking times. But the one place he never went - never had reason to go to - was the dungeons leading to the Slytherin common room.
Walking down the stairwell, he came across Theodore Nott, an obvious Slytherin; you can tell by how he stands, leaning against the wall as if he can hold up the castle by sheer will alone. The corridor was filled with the sweet odour of the clove cig that hung precariously from his mouth... seductively.
The new presence startled Theodore. He quickly attempted to hide the cigarette behind his back. His eyes widened in desperation before realizing that Charlie was no professor.
Charlie stopped and watched the young, spindly bloke bring the fag back up to his mouth, parting his lips. His eyes locked on to Charlie, narrowing as he took a drag.
“You a Weasley?” he asked, holding his breath with gritted teeth.
“Uhm, yes,” Charlie answered, the voice catching in his breath.
Theodore’s eyes cruised over Charlie’s body; inspecting it, judging it. He exhaled another breath of smoke and pushed himself from the wall, walking up the steps.
“Follow me,” he ordered with a whisper.
Charlie grabbed Theodore’s wrist and turned him around. He stared at the Slytherin, mouth agape.
“Well...?” Theodore asked, obviously annoyed.
“How... how old are you?” Charlie asked, not believing someone this young could be so brazen.
Theodore wondered if he should lie, but he knew better. He knew exactly what men of Charlie’s predilection liked in a fuck.
“Fourteen,” he answered.
“You... you’re too young.”
Theodore’s sneer turned sultry as he walked closer, placed Charlie’s hand on his crotch, and whispered with hot breath into Charlie’s ear, “I heard you liked them young.”
He squeezed his hand over Charlie’s, who struggled to swallow. He could feel Theodore's cock twitching and swelling.
“I could be thirteen... if that’s what you prefer?” Theodore added with a cruel smile and a dismissive shrug.
“My heart’s spoken for,” he whispered, as if the words made his growing erection subside.
Theodore’s hand cupped Charlie’s groin. With a squeeze he said, “I’m not after your heart, Weasley.”
Charlie felt the same familiar heat rise in his crotch, much like when he first met Oliver - the one who got away. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted to try this Slytherin, see if they all could fuck like gods. Maybe then he could see why someone like Flint could steal someone like Oliver from someone like him.
There were a thousand answers Charlie could have given the young boy, a myriad of reasons why this exchange should go no further. But the need to feel young sometimes translates to the need to feel loved by the young. If Charlie could make this young lad want him -- yearn for him -- then maybe Charlie wasn't all that old from the start.
Yes, there were a thousand answers Charlie could have said to the unspoken question that festered deep in Theodore's eyes: 'Don't you want to?'
Instead, he answered, “Lead the way.”
°