hp_dungeons
Nov. 15th, 2003 04:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyCharlie/Oliver backstory: 11/07/03
What happened when Charlie went to Oliver's.
Oliver was waiting for him when he stumbled out of the fireplace, looking up at him from the sofa, a frown on his face. His shoulders were slumped, hands dangling between his knees, defeated.
“I can’t deal with this any more, Weasley. I can’t take you constantly swinging back and forth, never making up your mind, just using me when you’re lonely, or horny, or drunk.” It would have been easier if Oliver were shouting. Then maybe he could work up some self righteous anger, get pissed off, and not feel like such an utter shit. “You decide what you want, fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But until then just leave me the hell out of it.”
Charlie looked down at his hands, picked at a hard bit of skin.
“And… if I’ve decided?”
Oliver raised his head, looking startled.
“I… you… what?”
Charlie raised his head and smirked a little… before wincing and holding his jaw. He’d looked in the mirror before he’d left, when he was in the bathroom grabbing the…-his mind backed away from that thought, tried to ignore it- and he had a decent red mark on his face. Looked like it’d develop into a colourful bruise before too long.
“I got some sense knocked into me. Not just by you, but you were the only one to do it in person, thank god.”
Oliver stood up, stepped toward him, stopped.
“I’m not sorry.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to be. I’m an idiot.”
Oliver looked at him shrewdly.
“You know you’re not getting any disagreement, here. You canna get around me by being reasonable. You are an idiot.”
Charlie took a step towards him, grinned.
“I know.”
“And you’re being a shit.”
“Yes.” Another step closer; close enough to almost be touching, to feel the heat radiating off Oliver. He could have moved forward, pressed against him, but he didn’t. He just leaned forward and kissed him, a chaste brush of lips, nothing else touching except for the hair that had fallen forward from where it had been tucked behind his ear, brushing against Oliver’s cheek.
Oliver didn’t move, holding himself tense, until Charlie moved his lips; kissing the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, his neck… he could feel Oliver’s moan through his lips, the swearword that followed whispered too softly for vibrations; one blunt fingered hand tangled in red hair that still hadn’t been cut.
Charlie could feel himself getting hard. And… the reality of it suddenly struck him. He was kissing a man’s neck. He was getting hard over a man. A flash of panic, and he pulled away, hating himself even as he did so. He rubbed a hand across his face, taking a deep breath. There was a little voice inside him, saying he shouldn’t be here, should back off, should run…
But it was scarier that most of him wasn’t. He had expected more resistance to this, more difficulty with what he was doing, but… it felt like it made perfect sense. Like he should have decided this years ago.
He looked at Oliver, a little helplessly, who grinned at him and shrugged. As if he couldn’t quite understand it, either. That made it easier. Made him realise that he might not be the only one out of his depth. He moved forward again, leaning his head against Oliver’s shoulder.
He loved the solidity. They were both stocky, muscular, but Oliver was at least four inches taller than him. As a hand stroked across his shoulders, came to rest on the back of his neck, Charlie turned his head and rested his face against Oliver’s neck, feeling a slight shiver as he breathed out. He grinned, mouth moving against the other man’s skin, and Oliver stepped backward abruptly, leaning down to kiss him almost before Charlie could regain his balance. This was nothing like the soft kiss of before- both Oliver’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling it as he kissed him. God, the man could kiss. Charlie pressed himself forward, one hand on the back of Oliver’s neck, the other fisted in the white T-shirt covering his back.
He could feel Oliver’s erection against him, and something he’d expected to scare him, the thing he’d been worried about all this time, was just turning him on even more. A hand slid down from his hair to his back, running along his spine, and he rocked his hips forward a little against Oliver, experimentally. Oliver moaned and bit down on Charlie’s lip, then slid his hand down to rest on the top of his arse. He panicked, slightly, and jerked his hips forward, away from Oliver’s hand… and towards Oliver.
The other man released his mouth, panting slightly, and groaned.
“Shit, Charlie…”
Oliver’s hand moved around, stroking his waist, the top of his hip, and then it was on the fastening of his belt. Charlie froze.
Oliver jerked his hand away as if it had been burned. He let out a frustrated breath and rested his forehead against Charlie’s, muttering soft apologies.
Charlie kissed him again, wordlessly accepting, and Oliver curled one hand into the back of his faded T-shirt, clutching tightly as if he needed an anchor. The other hand rested on the back of his neck as he moved closer again, thumb stroking lightly under his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, seriously. I mean, I do… I will… I want to. Just… a bit at a time, okay?”
“So… this is okay,” he was kissed lightly on the jaw, beneath his ear, “but dropping to my knees and getting your jeans open and… that would be right out, yes?” Charlie beat his head gently against Oliver’s shoulder and moaned.
“Bastard.”
Oliver chuckled.
“Utter bastard. I hate you.” He wanted to do something, anything; he could almost hear Harry’s voice in his head, asking in an impatient voice whether he was a Gryffindor or not.
He stroked his hand slowly down Oliver’s back, noting the small shiver as his hand touched the small of it, then rested it just on the top of his arse, thumb stroking his back softly in time with Oiver’s stroking his neck.
He snorted into the other man’s shoulder as Harry started cheering in his head, then grinned cockily as Oliver pulled back to look at him, grabbing his arse in both hands and pulling him forward.
Even through layers of cloth and denim it felt so damn good… Charlie’s eyes widened, and he breathed a soft “fuuuck” as Oliver let out a shaky breath and almost-laughed, leaning forward to nibble on Charlie’s ear. His eyes fell closed. Who knew ears were so sensitive? Oliver kissed him again just in front of his ear, his nose moving through the long hair that had fallen forward. Charlie felt him grin as he turned his head further, lips against his cheek.
“Long hair’s not really you, Charlie.” Then he tugged the earring between his teeth, making Charlie groan. “This, though? This I like.”
“God, please Oliver…” he wasn’t even sure what he was asking for anymore, but the plea made Oliver’s hips jerk a little into him, and he grabbed the back of the other man’s head, slamming their mouths together in a harsh kiss, swallowing Oliver’s moan and biting his lip as he tried to pull away. He was shocked at his own ferocity, but the look in Oliver’s eyes… shit. No one had ever looked at him like that before.
He made a conscious effort to stand his ground as Oliver smiled dangerously… then let out a yell as he was semi-tackled, sent sprawling back onto the sofa behind him, Oliver landing ungraciously on top of him a moment later. His breath rushed out in a muffled “bastard!”
He noticed the weight. Oliver was more there than any of the girlfriends he’d had- solid and heavy and hot, pinning him so he couldn’t move, wasn’t in control… he half heartedly struggled, his breath speeding up. That damned grin; Oliver pinned his wrists to the sofa and leaned forward to bite on his neck. Hard.
“Christ!”
This time, he didn’t protest as Oliver’s hand moved hesitantly to the clasp of his belt. He pushed himself up slightly, back against the arm of the sofa, and yanked his T-shirt off over his head, blushing bright red but refusing to care.
Oliver had shifted his weight as he moved; kneeling up for a second as Charlie settled himself, then sitting back to rest his weight on his heels, kneeling astride Charlie’s legs. He leaned over to grab his wand from the coffee table and whispered ‘nox’, extinguishing all the lights in the living room. Before Charlie could react, before his eyes could adjust to the sparse moonlight coming through the uncurtained window, Oliver had moved forward, leaning over him, hands braced on the sofa either side.
Oliver’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, and then he was being kissed, soft and slow and deep… their breathing seemed so much louder in the darkness than it had in the light. The other man shifted position again, blanketing his lower half and semi-supporting himself on his arms. Charlie ran his hands up Oliver’s back, under his white T-shirt, relishing the feel of the smooth skin as the cotton bunched up over his hands. He ran the fingers of one hand down Oliver’s spine, raggedly bitten nails catching slightly and making the other man hiss out a sharp breath.
“Can you…?” He tugged at Oliver’s T-shirt.
Oliver sat back on his heels again, tugging his shirt over his head and moving to lie back down before Charlie’s hand stopped him, placed in the middle of his chest. Oliver’s heart beat quickly under his hand, but other than that there was no movement, the moonlight making his eyes unreadable. There was a thin line of dark hair running down the centre of his chest that petered out just under his breast bone and reappeared under his belly button, disappearing beneath the waist of his trousers. Charlie softly petted the first line of hair, wishing he could get up the nerve to explore the second. He shifted uncomfortably, and sat up a little more, unsure of what to do next.
“Charlie? You alright?”
It would be difficult, in his position, not to feel how damned hard Oliver was against him. Not to feel the slight trembling as he waited for a reply, wanting to move but stopping himself. But still… still he held himself still, concern in his voice. He just had to say the word, and Oliver would back off. And he realised that he didn’t want to.
“Charlie?” Oliver started to back off, and Charlie grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t even think about it.” There was a growl in his voice, and Oliver responded with a feral grin, teeth shining slightly in the moonlight.
****
Sorry this is taking me so bloody long. *g*
What happened when Charlie went to Oliver's.
Oliver was waiting for him when he stumbled out of the fireplace, looking up at him from the sofa, a frown on his face. His shoulders were slumped, hands dangling between his knees, defeated.
“I can’t deal with this any more, Weasley. I can’t take you constantly swinging back and forth, never making up your mind, just using me when you’re lonely, or horny, or drunk.” It would have been easier if Oliver were shouting. Then maybe he could work up some self righteous anger, get pissed off, and not feel like such an utter shit. “You decide what you want, fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But until then just leave me the hell out of it.”
Charlie looked down at his hands, picked at a hard bit of skin.
“And… if I’ve decided?”
Oliver raised his head, looking startled.
“I… you… what?”
Charlie raised his head and smirked a little… before wincing and holding his jaw. He’d looked in the mirror before he’d left, when he was in the bathroom grabbing the…-his mind backed away from that thought, tried to ignore it- and he had a decent red mark on his face. Looked like it’d develop into a colourful bruise before too long.
“I got some sense knocked into me. Not just by you, but you were the only one to do it in person, thank god.”
Oliver stood up, stepped toward him, stopped.
“I’m not sorry.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to be. I’m an idiot.”
Oliver looked at him shrewdly.
“You know you’re not getting any disagreement, here. You canna get around me by being reasonable. You are an idiot.”
Charlie took a step towards him, grinned.
“I know.”
“And you’re being a shit.”
“Yes.” Another step closer; close enough to almost be touching, to feel the heat radiating off Oliver. He could have moved forward, pressed against him, but he didn’t. He just leaned forward and kissed him, a chaste brush of lips, nothing else touching except for the hair that had fallen forward from where it had been tucked behind his ear, brushing against Oliver’s cheek.
Oliver didn’t move, holding himself tense, until Charlie moved his lips; kissing the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, his neck… he could feel Oliver’s moan through his lips, the swearword that followed whispered too softly for vibrations; one blunt fingered hand tangled in red hair that still hadn’t been cut.
Charlie could feel himself getting hard. And… the reality of it suddenly struck him. He was kissing a man’s neck. He was getting hard over a man. A flash of panic, and he pulled away, hating himself even as he did so. He rubbed a hand across his face, taking a deep breath. There was a little voice inside him, saying he shouldn’t be here, should back off, should run…
But it was scarier that most of him wasn’t. He had expected more resistance to this, more difficulty with what he was doing, but… it felt like it made perfect sense. Like he should have decided this years ago.
He looked at Oliver, a little helplessly, who grinned at him and shrugged. As if he couldn’t quite understand it, either. That made it easier. Made him realise that he might not be the only one out of his depth. He moved forward again, leaning his head against Oliver’s shoulder.
He loved the solidity. They were both stocky, muscular, but Oliver was at least four inches taller than him. As a hand stroked across his shoulders, came to rest on the back of his neck, Charlie turned his head and rested his face against Oliver’s neck, feeling a slight shiver as he breathed out. He grinned, mouth moving against the other man’s skin, and Oliver stepped backward abruptly, leaning down to kiss him almost before Charlie could regain his balance. This was nothing like the soft kiss of before- both Oliver’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling it as he kissed him. God, the man could kiss. Charlie pressed himself forward, one hand on the back of Oliver’s neck, the other fisted in the white T-shirt covering his back.
He could feel Oliver’s erection against him, and something he’d expected to scare him, the thing he’d been worried about all this time, was just turning him on even more. A hand slid down from his hair to his back, running along his spine, and he rocked his hips forward a little against Oliver, experimentally. Oliver moaned and bit down on Charlie’s lip, then slid his hand down to rest on the top of his arse. He panicked, slightly, and jerked his hips forward, away from Oliver’s hand… and towards Oliver.
The other man released his mouth, panting slightly, and groaned.
“Shit, Charlie…”
Oliver’s hand moved around, stroking his waist, the top of his hip, and then it was on the fastening of his belt. Charlie froze.
Oliver jerked his hand away as if it had been burned. He let out a frustrated breath and rested his forehead against Charlie’s, muttering soft apologies.
Charlie kissed him again, wordlessly accepting, and Oliver curled one hand into the back of his faded T-shirt, clutching tightly as if he needed an anchor. The other hand rested on the back of his neck as he moved closer again, thumb stroking lightly under his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, seriously. I mean, I do… I will… I want to. Just… a bit at a time, okay?”
“So… this is okay,” he was kissed lightly on the jaw, beneath his ear, “but dropping to my knees and getting your jeans open and… that would be right out, yes?” Charlie beat his head gently against Oliver’s shoulder and moaned.
“Bastard.”
Oliver chuckled.
“Utter bastard. I hate you.” He wanted to do something, anything; he could almost hear Harry’s voice in his head, asking in an impatient voice whether he was a Gryffindor or not.
He stroked his hand slowly down Oliver’s back, noting the small shiver as his hand touched the small of it, then rested it just on the top of his arse, thumb stroking his back softly in time with Oiver’s stroking his neck.
He snorted into the other man’s shoulder as Harry started cheering in his head, then grinned cockily as Oliver pulled back to look at him, grabbing his arse in both hands and pulling him forward.
Even through layers of cloth and denim it felt so damn good… Charlie’s eyes widened, and he breathed a soft “fuuuck” as Oliver let out a shaky breath and almost-laughed, leaning forward to nibble on Charlie’s ear. His eyes fell closed. Who knew ears were so sensitive? Oliver kissed him again just in front of his ear, his nose moving through the long hair that had fallen forward. Charlie felt him grin as he turned his head further, lips against his cheek.
“Long hair’s not really you, Charlie.” Then he tugged the earring between his teeth, making Charlie groan. “This, though? This I like.”
“God, please Oliver…” he wasn’t even sure what he was asking for anymore, but the plea made Oliver’s hips jerk a little into him, and he grabbed the back of the other man’s head, slamming their mouths together in a harsh kiss, swallowing Oliver’s moan and biting his lip as he tried to pull away. He was shocked at his own ferocity, but the look in Oliver’s eyes… shit. No one had ever looked at him like that before.
He made a conscious effort to stand his ground as Oliver smiled dangerously… then let out a yell as he was semi-tackled, sent sprawling back onto the sofa behind him, Oliver landing ungraciously on top of him a moment later. His breath rushed out in a muffled “bastard!”
He noticed the weight. Oliver was more there than any of the girlfriends he’d had- solid and heavy and hot, pinning him so he couldn’t move, wasn’t in control… he half heartedly struggled, his breath speeding up. That damned grin; Oliver pinned his wrists to the sofa and leaned forward to bite on his neck. Hard.
“Christ!”
This time, he didn’t protest as Oliver’s hand moved hesitantly to the clasp of his belt. He pushed himself up slightly, back against the arm of the sofa, and yanked his T-shirt off over his head, blushing bright red but refusing to care.
Oliver had shifted his weight as he moved; kneeling up for a second as Charlie settled himself, then sitting back to rest his weight on his heels, kneeling astride Charlie’s legs. He leaned over to grab his wand from the coffee table and whispered ‘nox’, extinguishing all the lights in the living room. Before Charlie could react, before his eyes could adjust to the sparse moonlight coming through the uncurtained window, Oliver had moved forward, leaning over him, hands braced on the sofa either side.
Oliver’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, and then he was being kissed, soft and slow and deep… their breathing seemed so much louder in the darkness than it had in the light. The other man shifted position again, blanketing his lower half and semi-supporting himself on his arms. Charlie ran his hands up Oliver’s back, under his white T-shirt, relishing the feel of the smooth skin as the cotton bunched up over his hands. He ran the fingers of one hand down Oliver’s spine, raggedly bitten nails catching slightly and making the other man hiss out a sharp breath.
“Can you…?” He tugged at Oliver’s T-shirt.
Oliver sat back on his heels again, tugging his shirt over his head and moving to lie back down before Charlie’s hand stopped him, placed in the middle of his chest. Oliver’s heart beat quickly under his hand, but other than that there was no movement, the moonlight making his eyes unreadable. There was a thin line of dark hair running down the centre of his chest that petered out just under his breast bone and reappeared under his belly button, disappearing beneath the waist of his trousers. Charlie softly petted the first line of hair, wishing he could get up the nerve to explore the second. He shifted uncomfortably, and sat up a little more, unsure of what to do next.
“Charlie? You alright?”
It would be difficult, in his position, not to feel how damned hard Oliver was against him. Not to feel the slight trembling as he waited for a reply, wanting to move but stopping himself. But still… still he held himself still, concern in his voice. He just had to say the word, and Oliver would back off. And he realised that he didn’t want to.
“Charlie?” Oliver started to back off, and Charlie grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t even think about it.” There was a growl in his voice, and Oliver responded with a feral grin, teeth shining slightly in the moonlight.
****
Sorry this is taking me so bloody long. *g*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2003-11-15 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-15 09:29 am (UTC)*pants*
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Date: 2003-11-15 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-16 08:03 am (UTC):)
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Date: 2004-01-08 04:09 am (UTC)they are nummy boys! We likes them!
one of my favortie moments:
This was nothing like the soft kiss of before- both Oliver’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling it as he kissed him. God, the man could kiss. Charlie pressed himself forward, one hand on the back of Oliver’s neck, the other fisted in the white T-shirt covering his back.
Loved Charlie's "journey". It was very real.
~J~