Challenge: #39. Madam Pomfrey insists that the champions stay the night in the hospital wing after the first task. Harry has a nightmare and cries out in his sleep. Cedric crawls into his bed to comfort him. Leads to some kissing...fondling...Harry realizing that he is gay.
Title: No more nightmares
Author:
lilycat81Beta: The brilliant and lovable
vafizziks. Thank you!
Summary: A whimper from the bed next to his interrupted his ruminations. He lay perfectly still, listening intently. Harry’s breathing was labored, punctuated by occasional soft sounds of distress. Cedric sat up and watched silently. He wasn’t sure whether or not an intervention would be welcomed. Harry suddenly let out an anguished sob as his head tossed violently back and forth.
Warning: chan
Word Count: 2442
Rating: R
Notes: for the
triwizardfqf “Dragons!” Madam Pomfrey had huffed, looking disgusted. Harry had instantly recognized the facial expression and hadn’t been a bit surprised at being marched to the hospital wing within the hour. He shifted in his bed, tugging at the thin cotton sheets and blanket and thinking longingly of his comfortable bed in Gryffindor Tower. The sounds of the other champions’ steady breathing drifted across the room. Apparently, he was the only one having difficulty falling asleep. He sighed softly and rolled over, settling onto his side.
“Harry.” The whisper came from the bed next to his. He squinted into the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“I can’t sleep either.” It was Cedric. “Too much adrenaline, you know? Should have gotten some sleeping potion or something.”
“I suppose,” Harry responded. He was a bit wary of sleeping potions - probably due to his Muggle upbringing.
There was silence for a moment. “You were brilliant today,” Cedric whispered, sounding a little amazed. “No one expected you to do so well.”
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was an odd sort of compliment, if it could be considered one at all. “Oh,” he answered finally, feeling stupid. He couldn’t help but feel stupid around Cedric. There was something about the older boy that made him distinctively self-conscious.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Cedric went on. “We actually fought dragons today. There’s one for the grandchildren.”
A snort from the other side of the room saved Harry from having to formulate another response. Both boys fell silent and the sound of rustling sheets and a low grunt of annoyance alerted them to Viktor’s presence. Harry sat up and peered across the room, fumbling with his glasses. The outline of Viktor’s upright body was barely visible in the darkness before he grunted and settled back into his bed, evidently satisfied that the whispering disturbance had been taken care of.
Harry lay back on his own bed. His stomach fluttered uncomfortably as he made eye contact with Cedric and found him grinning conspiratorially.
“Guess we’d better say goodnight,” Cedric murmured, rolling his eyes in Viktor’s direction.
Harry laughed nervously. “Night,” he answered, taking his glasses off and tossing them onto the bedside table before pulling the bedclothes tightly around his body and succumbing to his exhaustion.
*************
Cedric watched Harry’s eyes flutter shut. He thought absently that he should try to get some sleep as well, but his mind was still racing, retracing the events of the day. His burn was still feeling slightly tender as well, though the salve that Madame Pomfrey had given him had eased the ache and sting considerably. He sighed and rolled onto his back, lifting his arms and tucking his hands behind his head as he gazed at the ceiling.
There was something strangely beautiful about the boy sleeping next to him. He’d always known Harry by appearance - it was difficult to grow up in the Wizarding world and not recognize the Boy Who Lived - but it was only in recent months that he’d begun to take notice of him. His father had been enthusiastically reliving Cedric’s victory in the previous year’s Quidditch match and Cedric remembered being distinctly fascinated by the slightly awkward, self-deprecating smile as Harry had laughed at himself.
Since that day, he couldn’t help but notice Harry, first with a detached sort of interest and, more recently, with a guilty fascination. It was more than a little disturbing actually that he found a fourteen year old boy to be so intriguing, but everything about him--from his wildly unruly black hair and his slim, wiry body to his obvious compulsion to behave honorably--was suddenly captivating. He’d been astonished at the general conclusion that the underage wizard had somehow entered his name into the Goblet of Fire. It couldn’t have been any more obvious that Harry was terribly uncomfortable with the situation, which, Cedric supposed, was a large part of his appeal. There was something very attractive about the fact that Harry couldn’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve.
A whimper from the bed next to his interrupted his ruminations. He lay perfectly still, listening intently. Harry’s breathing was labored, punctuated by occasional soft sounds of distress. Cedric sat up and watched silently. He wasn’t sure whether or not an intervention would be welcomed. Harry suddenly let out an anguished sob as his head tossed violently back and forth.
Without making a conscious decision, Cedric found himself at Harry’s bedside, murmuring soothing sounds and smoothing his exceptionally ruffled black hair in what he hoped has a comforting manner. Harry’s eyes flew open as he gasped for breath, still panting as his body reacted to the threats of his nightmare.
“What happened?” he whispered, screwing his eyes shut as though dreading the answer.
“You had a nightmare, I think.” Cedric cast a quick privacy charm around the bed, in order to avoid waking the other occupants of the room.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly as he spoke.
Cedric shrugged before realizing that Harry couldn’t see him. “I wasn’t asleep yet anyhow.”
They fell silent for a moment. “Did I say anything?” Harry asked slowly.
“No,” Cedric replied truthfully, “you were just whimpering and moaning a bit." He could feel Harry stiffen under his touch and pulled his hand away quickly, suddenly conscious of the fact that he’d been absentmindedly caressing his hair and face throughout their conversation. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning back for his own bed.
Harry caught his wrist before he’d moved more than a step. “Don’t go yet,” he whispered softly.
“All right,” Cedric answered, pulling a chair to the side of the bed.
They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Cedric wondering whether he should make conversation and Harry looking very much as though he’d like to be hiding under a rock. He lifted a hand to his forehead, rubbing distractedly at the skin hidden beneath his fringe.
“Does it hurt?” Cedric whispered.
Harry shook his head. “Only during the nightmares,” he answered, sounding embarrassed. “Just a bit sore now.”
Cedric reached out slowly, tracing the mark with a tentative touch. Harry gasped and started slightly and Cedric yanked his hand away as though it had been burned. He’d barely pulled away before he felt the smaller boy catch his wrist once more.
“Sorry,” he whispered, taken aback.
“Don’t be,” Harry answered, guiding the captured hand back to his forehead. “It just surprised me.”
Cedric moved his hand gently, hesitantly exploring the ridge of Harry’s scar.
“Sensitive?” he asked as Harry shivered slightly under his touch. Harry’s cheeks went pink as he nodded silently, his green eyes trained intently on Cedric’s face as he pulled him closer, sliding over in the bed to make room.
Cedric thought that he’d never seen anyone look more fragile or more beautiful than Harry did in that moment, watching him tremulously through lowered lashes as he leaned into the gentle caresses. He slid into the bed and stretched out.
********************
It was surreal - lying in bed with Cedric Diggory. Harry wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the inclination or the courage to invite him into his bed. It certainly wasn’t common practice for him to snuggle with boys, and he was more than a little surprised that he’d complied without any visible signs of surprise. Now, lying across from him, he was certain that Cedric could hear his heart pounding.
Why was his heart pounding, anyway?
Harry was finding it difficult to form rational thoughts. He could feel warm breath on his forehead as Cedric’s hand continued its maddeningly slow rhythm. The soft, brushing strokes had shifted gradually away from his scar, traveling steadily down his cheek, his the contour of his jaw, and finally his neck. He thought idly that it was quite nice to have someone else looking after him, soothing away the nightmares. He felt a shiver run down his spine as Cedric’s fingers dipped beneath the collar of his pajamas.
He’d never felt anything as delicious as the sensation of the pads of Cedric’s fingertips dancing along the bare skin of his neck and shoulder, barely grazing his collarbone. His breath suddenly released in a shaky moan and his eyes widened in horror as he felt his cheeks flush once more. He could only imagine what Cedric must be thinking right now.
He shut his eyes, unable to meet Cedric’s gaze, and licked his lips nervously before speaking. “I, uh,” he croaked miserably, “I’m sorry.”
His eyes flew open once more as the sound of low chuckling filled his ears. “It’s all right, Harry,” Cedric murmured, his dark eyes glowing with amusement. He drew his hand back, pulling away from Harry slightly.
“Don’t stop,” Harry whispered.
What was he, possessed? Could he not avoid embarrassing himself for more than thirty seconds around Cedric?
Fortunately, Cedric didn’t look put out at all, but rather wistful. He didn’t respond to Harry’s plea.
“Are you feeling all right now?” he asked softly, his eyes trained intently on Harry’s lips.
“Fine,” Harry responded. His hand instinctively flew to his mouth, tracing his lips as if to check for defects or abnormalities. Cedric looked away abruptly and Harry had a flash of realization. Fortified by the knowledge that Cedric had been gazing at his lips, he scooted a bit closer, pressing himself against the older boy, whose breathing was now growing distinctly more erratic.
He leaned in quickly, swiftly brushing his lips against Cedric’s before he had a chance to talk himself out of the idea. His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he felt as though he might pass out as he pressed his lips against Cedric’s warm mouth and felt him start to kiss back.
Harry had never kissed a boy before. Harry had never kissed a girl before, either, though he had a difficult time believing it could rival the sensations he was currently experiencing. Cedric’s chest was firm against his own and Harry could feel the pounding of his heart. His arms felt powerful as they held him close and Harry didn’t think he could ever remember feeling so safe. He couldn’t resist snuggling deeper into the embrace, pressing his body flush against Cedric’s.
Within seconds, Cedric broke the kiss and pulled away.
“We can’t do this,” he gasped. He looked very flushed now and his eyes were wilder than before; all amusement had vanished from his expression.
“Do what?” Harry asked, genuinely confused and very much wanting to return to kissing.
Cedric laughed again, the smile returning to his face. “And that, Harry, is exactly why we cannot continue.”
“You’re laughing at me.” Harry frowned.
“No, I’m really not,” Cedric replied quickly, looking more serious. He sighed. “It’s just, I’d really like to, but we can’t.” His efforts to get up were promptly thwarted by a slender leg thrown over his hips, holding him in place.
Both boys froze. Cedric flushed and looked away as Harry gaped at him.
“Oh,” Harry finally answered. Clearly Cedric had enjoyed the kiss a great deal. Harry’s mouth had gone very dry and he was suddenly aware of the throbbing between his own legs as his blood rushed south. It felt as though his senses had suddenly gone into overdrive - he was painfully aware of every contact point between their bodies, or the smell of Cedric’s skin, the taste of him on his lips. It was dizzying. He shifted slightly, uncertain of how to deal with this new development.
It was entirely different from the erections with which he often awoke. This was an ache - a delicious ache that throbbed as he pressed himself against Cedric’s hip experimentally. He groaned softly, letting his eyes flutter shut as he began to roll his hips. He could feel Cedric, hot and wonderfully hard against his outstretched thigh. His breath was coming in soft pants now, adrenaline coursing through his veins and removing the sting of shame he knew he ought to feel as he rubbed himself against Cedric.
“Harry.” Cedric’s voice was low, hoarse, and did nothing to dampen his arousal. “Harry, you’ve got to stop.” He sounded a bit hysterical.
Harry clutched him tighter, burying his face in Cedric’s neck and continuing to thrust slowly against his hip. He wondered absently who was making the soft sounds of whimpers and moans that filled the air.
Finally, Cedric gave a strangled sort of sound and flipped him on to his back. For one terrible moment, Harry thought he was being pushed away. The fear was laid to rest as Cedric pinned him beneath his body weight, thrusting against him and pressing gentle kisses across Harry’s face.
The odd combination of lust and tenderness pushed Harry over the edge. He’d been perilously close from the moment they’d begun, and he sobbed his release into Cedric’s shoulder as his hips jerked wildly upward, riding out the waves of his climax.
He fell back, breathing heavily as Cedric continued to rock against him. “So sorry,” he was mumbling, unable to meet Harry’s eyes. “So beautiful.” Harry wrapped his legs around Cedric’s waist, pulling him down for a kiss. He felt Cedric’s arms begin to shake as his whole body tensed up and he thrust hard one final time, crying out and gasping as he came.
Cedric immediately rolled off to his side, covering his eyes with one of his arms. When he spoke again, he sounded as though he were on the verge of tears. “Merlin, Harry. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t move his forearm from its position across his face.
Harry was beginning to feel a bit annoyed. “I’m not,” he answered shortly. He shifted uncomfortably. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a cleaning charm or two.”
Cedric finally cracked a genuine smile and summoned his wand, scourgifying both of them. Harry yawned and stretched, pulling the blankets over their cooling bodies. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed and contented. There were obviously some implications that would need to be addressed, but they could wait until tomorrow.
“I guess this means I like boys,” he mumbled through another yawn, letting his eyes drift close.
“It would appear so.” Cedric sounded as though he wanted to laugh, but Harry was too sleepy and too satisfied to care. He felt the bed lift as Cedric slid off and opened his eyes long enough to smile sleepily as Cedric dropped a kiss onto his forehead.
“No more nightmares,” he whispered, stroking the hair back from Harry’s forehead.
Harry inclined his head, leaning into the touch. “No more nightmares,” he agreed, already drifting off.