Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Effects of Mashed Potatoes ❯ Interruptions ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: Trying to make mashed potatoes, Harry fails horribly and ends up covered in the lumpy food. So Charlie decides that the boy needs to get cleaned up. Taking him upstairs, the man offers Harry a method the boy can't resist.

Warning: Lemon in future chapters

 

Harry's eyes fluttered as his head fell back against the bathroom wall. “Oh Merlin, yes,” he moaned.

 

Charlie's smile transformed into a grin as he picked the boy up. It wasn't terribly difficult as Harry didn't weigh that much and his legs were already around the man's waist.

 

In no time they were on the highest floor below the attic. There was only one room up there, and it was Charlie's and Bill's but, luckily, Bill wouldn't be able to make it to the Burrow until the next day so the two had the room to themselves.

 

The dragon tamer gently laid the teenager on his bed, and crawled on top of him, careful not to crush the small boy. Charlie crushed his lips against Harry's, nibbling against the boy's bottom lip.

 

Harry whimpered and opened his mouth which was immediately assaulted by a seemingly talented tongue. Not sure of what to do, Harry nervously rubbed his tongue against Charlie's, causing the man to press his lips harder against Harry's.

 

Charlie was in Heaven at that moment. He parted from those beautifully bruised lips and sat up on the bed between Harry's legs, breathing heavy.

 

Scared that he had done something wrong, the young savior pushed himself up and gazed at Charlie's face. Finding only barely contained lust, the boy elegantly twisted his body so that he was on his knees, and he pulled the man down for another kiss, which Charlie recuperated without any hesitation.

 

The twenty three year old slid his arms around the petite body, forcing those aching lips to part. Feeling a hand wandering over his chest and unbuttoning his shirt, he brought one of his own hands up and tore through the buttons like they were nothing, and successfully ridding himself of the offending piece of clothing.

 

Harry pressed his chest against Charlie's when he felt a cold hand slip under his shirt and trail a finger down his spine, causing him to shiver emphatically. He pulled away from the kiss and tugged his shirt off, throwing it off to the side.

 

Instead of heading straight for those wanton lips, Charlie pressed an open mouth kiss on Harry's collarbone, sucking and nibbling at the skin until it was a dark red. Trailing down, he kissed his way to one of the boy's hard nipples.

 

Harry almost cried out when he felt the man's persistent sucking, and he ran his hands through Charlie's hair, forcing the man's head in place.

 

Once Charlie thought the piece of flesh was hard enough, he headed back to the boy's mouth, pressing his lips hard against Harry's. And as his tongue explored the warm cavern, his right hand made its way to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers causing the boy to whimper louder and moan.

 

Charlie's left hand wandered further down, but just as his fingers had breached the waist band of the boy's trousers, a loud voice interrupted.

 

“Boys! Dinner's ready!”

 

Harry fell back against the headboard and groaned. “You can't be serious,” he whispered to himself.

 

Charlie smirked from his place in the middle of the bed. He crawled on top of Harry and leant toward the boy's ear. “Eager are we? Hmmm, I wonder if you can last one more day, Harry,” he purred.

 

Said boy gasped as the man bit his ear lobe lightly. “I think I'll ah…manage,” he moaned.

 

The man got up off the bed, taking another shirt out of his dresser and throwing Harry's at the boy.

 

“Better hurry before mum gets up here,” Charlie muttered, buttoning up his red silk shirt.

 

Harry nodded, finally able to use full function of his body as the last of the lust left his body. Pushing himself out of the bed, he pulled the shirt on and stared at Charlie; unsure of what it was he had to do.

 

The man smiled at the insecure boy. “Well come on, Harry. Best not keep the others waiting.”

 

He bent down to Harry's level, and gave him a chaste kiss, rubbing the boy's cheek with his thumb.

 

 

Dinner that evening had taken its toll on Harry as he tried to avoid looking at Charlie, not wanting to make it bluntly obvious that he liked the man. Of course, his constant blushing whenever his gaze shifted or whenever Charlie let loose a chuckle had not helped matters.

 

When he and Ron had finally said good night to everyone, and trekked up to their room, Harry was so exhausted. The moment he reached his bed, he fell on top of it and instantly lost consciousness.

 

 

For Charlie, dinner had been immensely amusing. Poor Harry had tried to make himself as surreptitious as possible, avoiding looking at Charlie or talking to him.

 

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, once again wondering how it was he fell in love with the Harry Potter.

 

 

It must have been sometime during the first task with the dragons. Charlie had, of course, seen the boy around the grounds but he hadn't known much more about Harry than the rest of England. He'd noticed how Harry had this innate grace that the boy seemed unaware of, and how, while he looked very much like his father, Harry's long hair brought out a bit more of the Lily in him. He was truly stunning.

 

However, when Charlie had seen the way Harry had handled the Hungarian Horntail, the man began noticing his skills, his personality. Exceptionally powerful though the boy was, he never made a big show of it. His intelligence in defense matched with any of the professors, but he was always so modest.

 

The boy had so much on his small shoulders. Voldemort, the Daily Prophet, the Ministry, Dumbledore, being the Boy Who Lived, even just being an orphan. Charlie was amazed that Harry could handle the pressure and stress of it all. That made the man think that the boy most likely thought he was going to die in this war. All of those problems, instead of making him frantic and worried, had made Harry resigned. He truly believed that, whether he defeated Voldemort or not, he would still die.

 

 

“Harry…,” Charlie gently whispered, his voice seeming to caress the boy's name. “Tomorrow, you'll be mine. And I'll make sure no one ever hurts you.”

 

 

© 2008 Inyx Dawn