The Way Charlie Tells It
This was my absolute first Charlie/Viktor fic. I have no idea how I got turned on to thought that these two would make a great pairing, but here is my very first attempt.
Title: The Way Charlie Tells It
Pairing: Charlie/Viktor
Word Count: 640
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash
The way Charlie tells it, they met at Hogwarts during the spectacle and pageantry and expectation of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The way Charlie tells it, he was a poor little stable boy, a lowly dragon wrangler, and Viktor was the handsome prince who swept him off his feet.
Viktor lets him tell it that way, even though they never actually met at the tournament. Charlie was too busy controlling the dragons, and Viktor was too busy fighting them for either of man to take much notice of each other. Still, Viktor likes the way Charlie tells it.
The way Charlie tells it makes their story sound much more romantic than it actually is; a love story to go down in family history, rather than the story of two desperate wizards in a desperate time. The way Charlie tells it, the War was just a small inconvenience rather than a life-changing period in which loyalty, blood, pride, and passion were all in question.
The way Charlie tells it there were sweet kisses and long walks and hand holding and all the mushy stuff that comes with love when he's talking to his nieces and nephews. The way Charlie tells it makes all of his brothers snort and his sister-in-laws bite their lips as they ponder the ridiculousness of such a simple and sweet relationship. They try not to laugh because they realize their children are to young to know what Charlie doesn't say.
What Charlie doesn't say is that love in the midst of war is more often lust; that only those who are really lucky manage to survive the ravages. That sweet and playful goes out the window for hard and bruising. That the last time you fucked could really be the last time.
What Charlie doesn't say is how he drove balls deep into Viktor the first night that they really met, the night everyone was licking their wounds and priding themselves on the way they fought tooth and nail to defend the Burrow and provide cover for Charlie's littlest brother and Herm-io-ninny and Harry Potter to escape. How adrenaline and alcohol rushed through their systems and how even if they had thought to think about it, the decision would still have been the same.
What Charlie doesn't say is how he and Viktor found each other nights in between then and the final battle, in the relative safety and anonymity of Muggle villages across Eastern Europe. How they licked and sucked and scratched and pulled and bit and hoped and prayed to gods they didn't believe in that they would get to do it again.
What Charlie doesn't say is how awkward it was to face each other when it was all over. That there was staring and blushing and a whole period of getting to know each other all over again or maybe for the first time. That there were stares and blushes from people recovering from a war who weren't sure that they could handle another one but who weren't sure that what they were seeing was proper. What Charlie doesn't say is that after Percy punched a photographer for the Prophet in the nose for taunting them as they tried to simply spend a day in Diagon Alley with their family, everyone stopped speculating about them, at least in public.
The way Charlie tells it, he and Viktor have been in love for as long as anyone can remember. That they have always known the way the other takes his tea, the type of broom that each likes to fly for family games of Quidditch, the routine each man has when readying themselves to go to work.
The way Charlie tells it, life is and always has been sunshine and daisies. And Viktor doesn't mind, because he likes the way that Charlie tells it.
Title: The Way Charlie Tells It
Pairing: Charlie/Viktor
Word Count: 640
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash
The way Charlie tells it, they met at Hogwarts during the spectacle and pageantry and expectation of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The way Charlie tells it, he was a poor little stable boy, a lowly dragon wrangler, and Viktor was the handsome prince who swept him off his feet.
Viktor lets him tell it that way, even though they never actually met at the tournament. Charlie was too busy controlling the dragons, and Viktor was too busy fighting them for either of man to take much notice of each other. Still, Viktor likes the way Charlie tells it.
The way Charlie tells it makes their story sound much more romantic than it actually is; a love story to go down in family history, rather than the story of two desperate wizards in a desperate time. The way Charlie tells it, the War was just a small inconvenience rather than a life-changing period in which loyalty, blood, pride, and passion were all in question.
The way Charlie tells it there were sweet kisses and long walks and hand holding and all the mushy stuff that comes with love when he's talking to his nieces and nephews. The way Charlie tells it makes all of his brothers snort and his sister-in-laws bite their lips as they ponder the ridiculousness of such a simple and sweet relationship. They try not to laugh because they realize their children are to young to know what Charlie doesn't say.
What Charlie doesn't say is that love in the midst of war is more often lust; that only those who are really lucky manage to survive the ravages. That sweet and playful goes out the window for hard and bruising. That the last time you fucked could really be the last time.
What Charlie doesn't say is how he drove balls deep into Viktor the first night that they really met, the night everyone was licking their wounds and priding themselves on the way they fought tooth and nail to defend the Burrow and provide cover for Charlie's littlest brother and Herm-io-ninny and Harry Potter to escape. How adrenaline and alcohol rushed through their systems and how even if they had thought to think about it, the decision would still have been the same.
What Charlie doesn't say is how he and Viktor found each other nights in between then and the final battle, in the relative safety and anonymity of Muggle villages across Eastern Europe. How they licked and sucked and scratched and pulled and bit and hoped and prayed to gods they didn't believe in that they would get to do it again.
What Charlie doesn't say is how awkward it was to face each other when it was all over. That there was staring and blushing and a whole period of getting to know each other all over again or maybe for the first time. That there were stares and blushes from people recovering from a war who weren't sure that they could handle another one but who weren't sure that what they were seeing was proper. What Charlie doesn't say is that after Percy punched a photographer for the Prophet in the nose for taunting them as they tried to simply spend a day in Diagon Alley with their family, everyone stopped speculating about them, at least in public.
The way Charlie tells it, he and Viktor have been in love for as long as anyone can remember. That they have always known the way the other takes his tea, the type of broom that each likes to fly for family games of Quidditch, the routine each man has when readying themselves to go to work.
The way Charlie tells it, life is and always has been sunshine and daisies. And Viktor doesn't mind, because he likes the way that Charlie tells it.