Title: Bad Influence
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Rating: NC17
Words: ~2325
Summary: Charlie can be pretty convincing, even if what he wants is entirely too dangerous for anyone with any sense.
Kink/theme: in theory, fainting, though I may have taken liberties and made it more breathplay. Also, sex on a dragon and technically in public.
Warnings: None, unless the notion of deliberately losing consciousness from air loss is a squick.
A/N: Sorry if this timestamps half an hour into the 8th. My computer turned to molasses just as I started to post; it has been sitting here updating I have no idea what all for the last half hour or so. Bah.

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Bad Influence

"You did what?" Hermione looked at Charlie reflected in the mirror as he leaned against the jamb. "You'd better mean in the distant past, Charlie. That's a terrible idea." Which it was, even if the image of him gasping and straining that had appeared in her mind's eye was hard to ignore.

He lifted his free shoulder and grinned. "Not that distant, and believe me, it's not a terrible idea. It's a tradition."

"A tradition." She shook her head, then went back to trying to do something about her hair. It was a daily drama, trying to make it behave, and she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't just shave it all off. She pulled it all back tight and tried to decide, for the hundredth time, whether she had the features for really short hair. "It's bloody dangerous, is what. What if the dragons got--"

Charlie reached and tugged her hand out of her hair before she realized he'd stepped toward her, and then his skin was warm against her back as he buried his fingers in the curls. "They won't, and don't you think about cutting this off, love. I happen to like it."

"You don't have to live with it."

"Yes, but I don't know if I could live without it all hanging down around your face as you ride me, or when you throw your head back and it hits my legs behind you, or--"

"Stop trying to distract me." Hermione picked up her wand and did another detangling charm. "You're trying to get out of explaining how it's not dangerous, because you know perfectly well it is. Your brain needs air. That's why the whole 'breathing' mechanism evolved. And as for the dragons, well. A dragon that loses consciousness a thousand miles in the air falls just as fast as anything else, and makes a nasty hole when it stops."

Charlie rolled his eyes and looked at her in the mirror as she fastened and pinned her hair securely for the evening. "One, dragons have a second set of lungs; when they aren't using them for fire-breathing purposes, they can breathe with them. It means they can hack thinner air and still be fine as long as they don't think of a compelling reason to flame."

"Fine, so it's sort of safe as long as no one attacks you."

"Yes, being attacked miles in the air is quite common. As I was saying. Two, dragons have pretty decent survival instincts--"

"Unlike some people."

"--and would definitely not go high enough to lose consciousness. Plus they tend to go for land once the rider gets woozy."

"So we've established your dragons are smarter than you are."

"Shut it, you." Charlie leaned forward over her shoulder and smirked at her reflection as he nibbled at the shell of her ear. "Three, like I said, it's a tradition--we pretty much all do it at least once, as far as I know. And four, it's really, really worth it."

"Yes, well, it can't be that much better than, uh, you know, other ways you do things to me." Hermione blushed, then rolled her eyes at herself. At some point she was going to become inured to talking about sex with Charlie, but so far, it hadn't happened.

He chuckled, rumbling against the back of her ear. "I thought we were talking about something I might do. But if you're looking for proof…"

"No. No, Charlie. I hate flying."

"Wouldn’t be flying, love. It'd be fucking, and it'd be brilliant."

She shivered, as she always did when he talked about fucking right against her ear like that. "No. It can't be safe."

"Your loss. Never known you to refuse to weigh the evidence before, though."

She scowled. "Not fair."

"You could always use a bubble-head charm and just watch," he suggested.

She turned around in his grasp and looked up at him. "You want me to not only get on a dragon and go up in the air, on purpose, but then whilst there, watch you wank--which, by the way, cannot possibly be done without the potential for losing control of the thing--'

"My cock isn't a thing!"

"The dragon!"

"Yes, I've sometimes called it that…"

"Charlie! Without losing control of the large fire-breathing lizard creature on whose back you are seated."

He shrugged.

"So, you want me to watch you do this until you effectively pass out from having no air."

"Nope."

She frowned. "Um. What?"

"Nope. I want you to ride on the dragon with me as we go higher and higher and I want you to jerk me off as I effectively pass out from having no air. Actually, I have other ideas as to what we can do, but since you're concerned and all."

Hermione groaned. It was a terrible idea, but his hands had gone down the back of her jeans as he talked, and he was gripping, just so, the way he liked to do, and he was talking about sex, and damn it, he was making it sound appealing.

Not that she usually found sex with him un appealing, but the dragon part, that was something else.

He dropped her head forward onto his chest. "It's a really bad idea."

"Uh-oh. You sound like a woman who's wavering." He dragged a calloused thumb in a circle just at the top of her arsecrack, which never failed to make her shudder, just a little. "Perhaps I should see if I can think of any other enticements."

"I hate you."

"Do not."

"No, but…damn it. Terrible idea. How do you not fall?"

"Harness. I'm not suicidal, Hermione. Just horny and fond of adrenaline and mostly-controllable danger. I'm nearly sure you're familiar with these traits in me."

"Maybe."

He lifted her chin. "Are you convinced? Or really, no?" He pushed his hips forward a fraction to let he feel the substantial beginning of an erection. "I mean, I'm sure I can think of something else fun to do."

"You're impossible." She was going to do this, wasn't she? Just like she'd let him bring her to the edge with his toes under a restaurant table, just like she'd then let him finish the job against the living room wall of his flat without even closing the curtains, just like she'd let him convince her an empty, but open, stairwell in the Ministry was a good place for a blow job. God. He was such a bad influence.

"No, I'm really pretty flexible. And willing to contribute ideas." He shrugged, exaggerating his movements, then winked. "I play well with others. I'm told it's a good quality."

"Hmph. You're too daring, too full of ideas that are all well and good until someone loses an eye, and what it is, is, you charm people."

"So, you think we should just go to dinner, come back, stop for a quickie in an alley somewhere…?"

Hermione sighed. "You've done it before? You know it's safe?" Such a bad influence.

"It's safe. I mean, as safe as any fooling around with breathing can be, but the harness is charmed."

"Charmed?"

"Yeah, to take the wearer to help, if anything seriously goes wrong."

"…You charmed your, er, sex toy harness, to--"

"Hell no. Bought it that way."

Hermione's pause was longer this time. "They sell harnesses for this purpose?"

"Course. I gather some people do this sort of thing a lot less safely because they're all embarrassed at the thought of being caught out, but me, I think on balance, I prefer being not dead, so."

"Right. Not-dead is always good."

He grinned down. "So, see? Professionally-produced materials, caution in case of a major accident, and good clean fun. On a dragon."

He shook her head and shifted slightly to change the pressure of her damp knickers against her. "I can't believe you've talked me into this. Fine. Just let me get my--" She broke off as he shook his head and pulled her closer against him, then Apparated them away. "--jacket?"

"Not going to need it." Charlie let her go and opened the door into the enormous barn through which colony staff entered and exited the compound.

Hermione glared at his back, but followed along. "Going very high in the air. In the thin air. It will be cold."

"Nah. I'm getting my cock out; I wouldn’t do that if it were going to wind up frosty."

"Yes, but there will be friction for that."

Charlie looked over his shoulder as he rummaged in a cabinet, then pulled out a harness and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Not that much. Warming charm. It'll be fine."

"If you say so. Also, you keep that here?" Hermione hugged her arms against her body and followed him out the other side of the barn.

"Sure. We buy 'em in bulk."

"You …what?"

"Hey, they're good for--and designed for--risky personal behavior. But they're also good for, you know, any number of accidents that can happen whilst one is flying on a dragon."

"Good point. Wait, losing consciousness isn't a serious enough emergency to engage the charm?"

"I may have altered this one. Slightly. Still works, just requires more than a momentary loss of air."

Hermione shook her head and stopped several yards away from the enormous orange dragon Charlie apparently intended for them to ride, and waited while he tied and tugged at things. "This takes a fair amount of preparation," she said after a minute.

"Yep."

"But it's still worth it?"

"Yep." He fastened a pair of buckles, then Summoned a pair of brooms and a saddlebag sort of thing. The brooms, she knew, were standard, in case for some reason a rider needed to get loose and leave the dragon in mid-air, though seriously, if that happened while she was up there, she'd have to think carefully about whether she wouldn’t be better off taking her chances with the dragon. Finally, he let the brooms pull him up onto the Dragon's back, then secured them, settled himself and reached out a hand.

She shook her head one more time, but reached up and let him half-lift her as she scrambled up, too and let him arrange her in front of him, facing away from the dragon's head. The dragon itself seemed completely oblivious to their presence, and certainly wasn't straining to manage the weight of two riders. "And it's totally fine that we just show up on your day off and take a dragon for a ride," she said. "Does this happen often?"

He dropped his head forward to speak against her ear as the dragon lifted into the air. "I may have pulled a few strings."

She saw three of Charlie's colleagues waving them off as they rose, and sighed. "God. They think we're having sex up here, don't they? That I'm some sort of, I don't know, dragon groupie slag?"

"If they think that last, they'll want to not tell me," he said firmly. "As to the other, well, we are." He cast the warming charm, then slid his hand between them and unbuttoned his jeans. "Feel free to join me."

They were too high to see his friends individually now, and she could already feel the air thinning. "I should cast that bubble-head charm," she said.

"Probably." He caught her hand and brought it between them. "Whenever you're ready."

She sighed and gripped his cock in one hand and her wand in the other, then Banished her jeans into the saddlebag and used his shoulders for leverage to lift up and sink down onto him, pulling her knickers to one side.

"Thought you--shit!--didn't want to," he gasped. "Also, Merlin. You're wet. And. What?"

She shifted her weight a couple of times and wrapped her arms hard around his shoulders, nibbling at his ear and rocking slowly. "I trust you. Damn it." She grinned at the realization she'd truly surprised him, and sucked on a spot below his ear.

He laughed, bouncing her gently, panting as the extra work already started to tax his lungs. "You're going to make me come too fast, you know."

"No fainting?"

"Only if you slow down. Or, I suppose we could just go for two."

She flexed her hamstrings to lift, and let herself drop again, feeling--and, damn it, liking--the added tension of working to get enough air. "Don't know. If I. Can handle…"

"Yeah." He gripped her arse hard and moved her on him faster, rougher, until they were both wheezing and sweating and gasping for air.

Charlie pulled away from her to look up into her eyes, his face pale and damp, and even though he couldn’t get a word out, she knew he was close, right on the edge. She was starting to see spots, but she forced her self to slam down onto him, gritting her teeth and watching him as he came.

And Merlin, he was right; her own orgasm had her arching and coughing for what seemed an inordinately long time, crying out before going utterly limp. She didn't think she actually lost consciousness, maybe, but she thought it had been several minutes by the time she realized they'd descended into more breathable air. Her head throbbed and her eyes felt gritty and strange, and the muscles of her torso ached; she was sure they'd be sore. She blinked. "Charlie?"

"Mmm?"

"I hate it when you're right."

He chuckled, then coughed. "Good, then?"

"You might say. Is the headache usual?"

"Mm-hm."

She shifted in his lap, whimpering as the head of his cock, still inside her, moved too, and the wet denim of his open flies rubbed against her arse. "I don't suppose you brought a potion for it?"

He shook his head. "Didn't think you were going to need it. Bad?"

She thought for a minute. "Not enough to move."

"Good."