Title: Wild Ride
Author: centaury_squill
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Charlie
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: ceraunophilia: arousal by thunder and lightning/storms, mention of hair pulling
Other Warnings: none
Word Count: ~ 2,100
Summary/Description: Harry visits Charlie in Romania.


Wild Ride
The dot became a blob, the blob grew larger every minute. Harry screwed up his eyes, trying to distinguish it against the clear blue sky. Was it an owl? No – now he could see it was far too big to be a bird of any kind. As it got closer, Harry realised it was a dragon, but a dragon with something different about it. Closer still, and Harry could tell what the difference was. In the few hours he'd spent at the Romanian reserve, he'd noticed several dragons flying overhead, but this was the first he'd seen with a rider. A moment later, he was running towards the dragon's landing spot; he'd recognised the red hair of the man he'd come to visit. Charlie Weasley.

Charlie jumped down from the dragon's back and gave Harry a hug.

"Good to see you, mate!" He drew back and grinned at Harry. "I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow."

"Managed to get off early," Harry said, grinning back at Charlie. He eyed the dragon over Charlie's shoulder. "Hey, I didn't know you rode 'em."

Charlie turned and gave the dragon an affectionate pat. "Not many of 'em let you. None of the females, and just a few of the males, like old Fafner here." He winked. "I prefer males, anyway."

"Yeah, I'd heard," Harry said drily.

"Been talking to mum, huh?" Charlie sighed. "She still can't get her head around me being gay. Thinks it's just a phase. She keeps hoping I'll meet a nice witch, settle down and provide her with lots more grandkids."

Harry laughed. "You'd think she'd got enough grandkids already. Last time I was at The Burrow it was overrun with ankle-biters. And Blaise told me Ginny's expecting, so there'll be another one soon."

The dragon threw its head back and trumpeted. Charlie reached up and began unfastening the leather straps around its neck. Harry found himself watching the play of muscles in Charlie's bare arms, his cracked leather jerkin shifting across his broad shoulders, the way his faded jeans hugged his arse.

He coughed. "See you've grown your hair again."

Charlie absently pushed a lock of sweat-darkened hair back from his face.

"Oh yeah, you've not seen me since Bill and Fleur's wedding, have you? Mum gave me a really brutal haircut for that." He grinned. "My boyfriend used to get off on pulling my hair while he was riding me" – Harry's jeans grew uncomfortably tight – "and Mum found out about it; I think it was her way of discouraging him."

Harry watched Charlie's square, capable hands busying themselves with the dragon's harness. "So," he said, trying to keep his voice casual, "your boyfriend's into – pulling hair? How about you?"

"Ex boyfriend," Charlie corrected. He finished undoing his dragon's harness and slung the heavy leather straps casually over his shoulder. He flashed a quick grin at Harry. "I didn't mind him doing it, but I'm more into thunderstorms, myself."

He thumped the flat of his hand against the dragon's scaly leg. "Off you go, Faf. There's plenty of fresh meat waiting for you in the feeding paddock, and me and Harry could do with a bite to eat as well, right, Harry?"

He strode off towards the dragon keepers' quarters without waiting for a reply.

Harry followed more slowly, musing over what Charlie had said. Thunderstorms, eh? I wonder what he means by that. He glanced up at the clear sky and shrugged. Doesn't look like I'll get the chance to find out.

/\/
At first it looked as though this prediction was correct; the sun shone warmly down on them as Charlie showed Harry as many of the sights as he could during his short visit. Then, the day before Harry was due to return to England, there was a change in the weather. He came down for breakfast to find Charlie standing at the window, gazing out at mountain peaks half obscured by racing clouds.

"Looks like there's a storm on the way," Charlie said.

Something in his voice, the way he was standing, reminded Harry of Charlie's earlier confession.

"You said you get off on storms?" he said, coming to stand behind his friend.

Charlie drew a long breath. "Yeah," he said. "Nothing I like better than to ride old Faf through the mountain passes during a thunderstorm, dodging lightning bolts, having sex."

The last two words were said under his breath, but Harry heard them.

"With the hair-pulling boyfriend?" he asked, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

Charlie swung round to look at him. "Nah, he was a wimp," he said. "Just with my own right hand, usually."

Harry found himself staring into Charlie's flushed face and bright, excited eyes. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I'm not a wimp," he said hoarsely.

Charlie nodded. "That you're not. O-kay –" he glanced over his shoulder at the scene through the window, "– I'd say the storm won't break over the mountains for at least an hour yet. Let's have some breakfast first." He winked at Harry. "Get our strength up."

/\/
Half an hour later, Harry and Charlie were in the barn adjoining the dragons' feeding paddock. Charlie took Fafner's harness down from its peg and inspected it carefully.

"We don't want a strap breaking at a critical moment," he explained, "but this looks fine."

Laying the harness down on a bench, he strode over to a row of lockers at the back of the barn.

"Better get you kitted out, Harry. A pair of my old boots should fit you well enough."

Harry followed him. "I didn't know you had to wear special gear for riding dragons," he said.

"Well, you don't really," replied Charlie, rummaging in a locker, "but boots are always advisable, and some blokes like to wear these over their jeans."

He held out a pair of chaps. Their eyes met over the leather garments, and Harry suspected they were thinking the same thing. Charlie confirmed it by saying with a laugh, "Jeans optional, of course." His eyes flicked up to Harry's lightning scar, just visible through the tousled locks of hair tumbling over his forehead.

Harry felt himself going red. "Sounds good – if your dragon's back isn't too spiky."

"I know a good Cushioning Charm," grinned Charlie.

He dived back into the locker, producing a worn pair of supple leather boots and fingerless gloves with reinforced palms. He dumped the pile of clothing in Harry's arms and walked over to the bench to retrieve the dragon harness.

"I'll get Fafner ready while you kit yourself out," he said, wondering whether Harry would really come to him bare-arsed and hoping that he would. Mentally rehearsing the Cushioning Charm, he strode out of the barn.

/\/
Charlie made short work of luring Fafner to him with a couple of juicy beef steaks. As his dragon bent its neck to eat, he deftly fitted the leather riding straps and hoisted himself onto its back. When Fafner had finished noisily gulping down his treat, Charlie urged him towards the open door of the barn. A distant rumble of thunder over the mountains made his breath come faster with anticipation.

His already hardening cock gave a great throb as he saw Harry come strutting towards him. He wasn't sure whether it was the get-up or the imminent thunderstorm, but his friend had never looked sexier. Tousled hair, lightning scar, stubble along his jaw – Charlie's hungry gaze swept lower and his breath hitched – Harry was wearing the chaps with nothing underneath. They emphasised his masculinity far more than complete nudity would have done.

Harry took in the direction of Charlie's fixed stare, and grinned.

"Like 'em?" he asked, doing a twirl.

Charlie's mouth fell open at the flash of Harry's bare arse, framed by the leather chaps. His heart seemed to rise up in his chest and choke him. Wordlessly, he leaned down, stretching out his hand to help Harry up. Just in time, he remembered to cast the Cushioning Charm on Fafner's back before Harry settled into position in front of him.

"Let's go!" Charlie shouted, finding his voice at last, and tugged on Fafner's straps.

The dragon lifted into the air and, with increasingly powerful strokes of its wings, headed towards the mountains, where bright flashes were already announcing the arrival of the storm.

/\/
Charlie's excitement grew the closer they got to the tempest. Soon they were in the midst of it: rain pelted down on them, lightning ripped the sky, followed shortly afterwards by a rumble of thunder echoing among the mountains.

Harry found his glasses streaming with moisture and fumbled for his wand, tucked into the belt of the chaps he'd buckled around his waist. With fond memories of Quidditch matches in the rain, he cast Impervius. Immediately his view became clearer; when the curtains of rain were blown aside in the gusting wind he could see the mountains rising steeply on either side and the clouds above, then below, as Fafner swooped then soared in obedience to Charlie's commands. It was exhilarating and a little scary. Harry focused on Charlie's strong, capable hands reaching around him to grasp the leather riding straps and wondered what they would feel like on his body.

As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Charlie moved one of his hands from Fafner's rein and closed it unerringly around Harry's bare cock. Harry's gasp, and the feel of his cock hardening and twitching against Charlie's palm momentarily distracted him from his task of guiding the dragon, just as a lightning-bolt shot sizzling from the sky. Luckily, Fafner was accustomed to stormy conditions and had already jinked violently to avoid it. Charlie was thrown sideways; releasing his grasp on Harry, he seized hold of the dragon's overlapping scales and hauled himself back into position.

Harry turned to look over his shoulder at Charlie. Harry's normally unruly hair was plastered flat against his head and drops of rain trickled down his face. But his green eyes were shining with delight. "Bloody hell, Charlie, this is nearly as much fun as riding my Firebolt!" he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the gusting wind and the rumbles of thunder.

Charlie was leaning back, laughing wildly, held in place by Fafner's back ridges. He dropped one hand from the reins, tugged down the zip of his soaking-wet jeans. His cock immediately sprang free, dripping with moisture not entirely due to the rain. Charlie gestured towards it, mouthing "Ride me!"

Swiftly casting a lubrication spell on his arse, Harry manoeuvred himself around to face Charlie. As he was turning, Fafner sideslipped beneath him to avoid another bolt of lightning. Harry hastily grabbed at the dragon's wet, slippery scales with one hand and Charlie's leg with the other. Charlie caught hold of Harry's arm, and between them they got Harry into a more secure position astride his friend. A sudden lurch from Fafner, and he was impaled on Charlie's cock.

Charlie grinned up at him. "Here we go!"

And they were off, heading straight for the heart of the storm. If Harry had thought their flight exciting before, that was nothing – nothing – to what it now became. Lightning flashed and thunder pealed all around them as Fafner sped through the mountain pass. Harry didn't know whether the ride was so bumpy because of air turbulence, the dragon's manoeuvres to avoid being struck by lightning, or Charlie's frenzied humping beneath him. All he knew was, his arse was getting the reaming of its life – and he loved it. The world shrank to the clench of his arse around Charlie's cock, the irregular strikes on his prostate, the jounce of his balls and the bobbing of his cock. Harry flung his head back, his chest heaving as he tried to get some air. He felt his balls tighten and his spunk spatter against his belly, instantly sluiced away by the rain. He tightened himself around Charlie as Fafner suddenly dropped like a stone; for a moment he was hovering above his friend, Charlie's cock stretched between them. Then Fafner levelled out, Harry thumped down and felt the warm gush of Charlie's jizz shooting up inside him.

A long moment later, Harry realised that the rain had stopped, and Fafner was gliding in to land. Charlie was sprawled across his dragon's back, eyes closed, a blissful smile on his face. One of his hands lay limply on Fafner's scales, the other dangled over the side. Harry's nostrils filled with the fresh scent of rain-soaked earth; he heard a last rumble of thunder fading away in the distance.

Their wild ride was over.

-fin-