Title: Retribution
Author: mindabbles
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Kingsley (established relationship), Harry/Kingsley/Charlie, Harry/Charlie
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Infidelity, jealousy
Other Content: Threesome, double penetration
Word Count: 4,000
Summary/Description: Harry has well and truly mucked it up this time. Charlie is more than willing to ease his pain, but Kingsley has some very specific ideas about sharing.
Author's Notes: This is for gryffindorj, torino10154, and secretsolitaire because they made me do it—long enough ago that they probably don't even remember making me do it. Thank you to the mods for the alternate posting date and for keeping this lovely community going.



Harry has a thing for powerful men.

He wants someone who can pin him. Some days it gets tiring to be the one everyone looks at to fucking save them.

Sometimes it’s nice to be the one who gets to fall apart.

That day, five years ago, when Kingsley pushed him against the wall of his office and mouthed I want you against his skin, was like coming home to a place he didn’t know he needed until he was there.

Harry tries to remember how that felt.

Kingsley frowns and rubs his hand over his face. Harry knows he should speak. There are words that could tumble from his mouth and make this all go away. He can’t make them come.

Harry can feel him slipping away. He went too far this time. Kingsley turns to go. Harry can’t stop it. His fists grasp at empty air, like he’s trying to hold on, but Kingsley is already at the door.

Kingsley stops, tension roiling across his shoulders. He braces one hand on the door frame. "That’s it then," he says. "This was one step too far." He pauses and he's waiting for Harry to tell him it doesn't mean anything.

Harry wants to stop him, to tell him that they will talk tonight, work it out. He can’t find the words. They will talk tonight whether he says it now or not, he tells himself. Kingsley will tell him that he can't stand to think about him with someone else. He'll pin Harry and Harry will let him take over—unless he's finally fucked up so badly that there's nothing left for it.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

A yellow paper airplane lands elegantly on Harry’s desk. When he unfolds it and reads the words that someone put on this letter, all he can think is that yellow is an oddly cheerful colour for such a message.

He asks Neil to send a return memo that he can’t come to St. Mungo’s until three this afternoon as he has several meetings today. Neil looks at him with quizzical sympathy and quietly says, "Pardon for overstepping, Harry, but I think you’ve to go now. I’ll cancel your meetings."

"Of course." Harry frowns. "I’ve to go now. I wasn't thinking."

"Yes, well," Neil says. "I’ll cancel everything for this week."

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Harry hates this waiting room. He hates the falsely bright light and the ever-blooming orchids on the counter. He paces. His heels clack on the cold, white floor.

The Healer finally emerges. "He's awake, Mr. Potter," she says.

Harry starts toward the room where Kingsley's lies.

"He hasn’t asked to see you. I'm sorry," she says with an apologetic smile and a raised hand. She turns to go. "You'll have to wait out here until he does."

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The Burrow's back garden is a riot of spring colours. Crocuses spread their tiny petals to catch the pale sunlight and daffodils rise taller and more elegant than anything else in the garden. They are a shade brighter yellow than the note that told him Kingsley had been injured stepping in front of an Auror trainee when a simple negotiation went badly wrong. This is a place he can clear his mind.

"Harry. Didn't know I'd see you."

At least he thought he could clear his mind. Charlie's voice behind him makes his mind anything but clear.

"I like the garden," Harry says. "I can think here. That's all. I didn't know you'd be here." His chest aches with the weight of the lie.

"There was a time I was certain you'd be coming here to see me." Charlie moves next to him.

"That was a long time ago," Harry says. It was a long time ago and it was three days ago. It was nothing but a kiss, but it was so much more than a shag with a stranger. Those Kingsley can smell on him when he comes home and he spends the rest of the night reminding Harry that there is no one else. Kingsley knew immediately that Charlie wasn't just a ploy to make him jealous, because Harry can never hide anything from him.

Charlie leans so his chest touches Harry's arm. The heat and hard muscles make Harry's toes curl. Charlie's voice is low and soft as he says, "We had a certain chemistry then. Seems it's no different now."

"That doesn't matter," Harry growls. Anger roils through him that Charlie can still make his knees buckle just by standing near. "Kingsley's been in Hospital for three days."

Charlie blinks at the ferocity in Harry's tone. He smiles and places a warm, comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. It feels like friendship. "You said it was a game you two play."

"Kingsley won't see me, so I don't even know how he is." Harry swallows crossly at the lump in his throat.

Charlie's hand is on his shoulder and he should shrug it off.

"You came here, Harry. You didn't go to Ron's. Or anywhere else."

Harry turns and he's in Charlie's arms. The curve of Charlie's chest presses against his and he remembers this. He's hard as a rock at the memory of how Charlie could turn him inside out. Charlie kisses him and Harry melts, forgets everything. And that's it, isn't it—the real betrayal.

"Fuck," he mutters, pushing Charlie away.

"Hey." Charlie's voice is as gentle as his hands, pulling Harry back by the wrists. "It doesn’t have to mean anything, Harry. Old friends. A little comfort on a hard night."

"I suppose I can tell myself that for now," Harry says, leaning into Charlie's solid body. He lets himself forget how he'll hate himself later for accepting that lie so easily.

If anything, Charlie feels better than he ever did. His hands are all over Harry's body like he remembers every curve and angle, every little thing that drives Harry mad. His muscles are harder, his skin rougher. There are new scars that Harry has to taste and touch. He tastes like the Firewhisky he's been drinking and Harry curls his tongue around Charlie's, intoxicating as if he's drinking the whisky himself.

"You're sweet as you ever were," Charlie mutters. His lips move down Harry's neck, nip at his collar bone. Charlie's big, strong hand palms Harry's cock and he rocks against it.

"Touch me," Harry groans. "I need you now." He reaches down and unfastens his trousers. Charlie's hand is immediately around his cock. It feels so different from Kingsley's elegant hand—broader and rougher.

Charlie moves behind him, seeking out sensitive spots on his neck with his mouth. He wraps his arms around Harry, splaying his hands on his stomach and pulling Harry against him. Just as he wraps a hand around Harry's cock again, he presses his erection against Harry's arse. Harry's knees nearly give out. Charlie's hand comes to unfasten his own trousers and he rubs his hard cock against Harry's arse. He can feel it—that first time, when Charlie had opened him so gently, taken his time until Harry was begging. The first time Harry realised that he needed this like breathing.

"Get your hands off him."

Kingsley is in the doorway. His voice is low and dangerous. Harry’s heart speeds up, and the jolt is not entirely unwelcome.

"Harry?" Kingsley says.

Harry realises he must look like a codfish out of water and he idiotically reaches down to cover his cock. "What are you...when did you get out?"

Charlie's hands slide from Harry's stomach and down his hips before they drop away. He doesn't move from where he's standing, pressing against Harry from behind.

"This morning," Kingsley says, stepping closer. Harry moves away from Charlie and pulls his trousers up.

"You could have let me know," Harry snaps, remembering why he was angry, why he's here now.

"I went to your place first and figured you might be here. I see I was correct."

Harry looks from Kingsley to Charlie. "It's—"

"Don't tell me it's not what it seems," Kingsley says.

"You're not that stupid and neither am I. It's exactly what it seems." Charlie finally pulls his trousers back up and regains his ability to speak. Harry should have known not to expect much help there.

"What do you think is seems, Weasley?" Kingsley says. They stare each other down and Harry's cock swells again in his pants.

"I think you pushed your luck, Harry went looking for company, and found mine," says Charlie. He shrugs and leans against the garden wall. Damned if Harry doesn't still want to eat him whole.

"That is not what happened," Kingsley says. "Harry?" His dark eyes bore through Harry. Even now, he loves to be in the sights of that powerful gaze.

"Pretty close," says Harry.

"You two should go and get your stories straight. Let me know if you do." Charlie pushes himself off the wall and struts inside.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Harry doesn’t make it two steps inside the front door before Kingsley has Harry's pants around his knees.

"How did his cock feel?" Kingsley’s hand is on Harry’s cock. He twists over the head and Harry can’t move, can’t breathe. "How did it feel in your hand?"

"Big," Harry says, half because it's true and half because he's not ready to be scolded.

"Come now, Harry," Kingsley murmurs. His lips are on Harry’s cheek. His hand strokes Harry’s cock. "You can do better than that."

"You don’t love me because I’m a man of great words."

Kingsley squeezes his balls, gentle and firm. Harry gasps and arches into his hand.

"I do, though. Love you. Don’t forget that--despite how difficult you’ve made it lately."

"Like retribution. His cock felt like retribution for leaving me."

"Don't forget—you cheated on me." Kingsley pulls him closer. "You want him?" He slides his hand over Harry's arse and pushes him, turning him around to face the wall.

Harry lets himself be pushed. He doesn't know what he expected—a very uncomfortable grown up talk, perhaps. This was not it.

"Don't lie to me. How could you not," Kingsley says, calm as when he's summing up a case report. His lips press to the back of Harry's neck. "I saw him."

"You were injured," Harry says, incredulous. He leans back against Kingsley and feels skin. "You didn't ask for me and he—"

"What if I told you I want him, too?"

Anger rises again. This really is the end. Kingsley's wound him up to let him down. "I reckon I'd say you'll have to fight me for him."

Kingsley laughs, as if this is exactly what he expected Harry to say. He presses his chest against Harry's back and Harry feels Kingsley's hard cock slide across his arse.

"Now, Harry," Kingsley says, pushing forward. "Why on earth would we fight?"

"What?"

"If I'm going to share you, I'm going to get something too. I haven't come this far by sitting by and waiting for my turn."

"You saying it's your turn, then?"

"That depends. Do we have our stories straight?"

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

"You're back," Charlie says, with a cocky tilt of his head. He pulls the door all the way open and steps aside to usher them in. "I'd hoped you would be."

Harry's heart is pounding. He can still feel the after effects of the thorough fucking Kingsley gave him at home. "We have a proposition for you," he says.

"Those are some of my favourite words," Charlie says. "Go on."

"I think you know why we're here," says Kingsley.

"Dispense with the pleasantries, eh, Minister?" Charlie smiles at Kingsley with the look the melted Harry at age 18. It melts him now and there's more that spreads heat through his body, like seeing his first lover and his current one looking at each other like they could devour each other on the spot.

"Or rather, move on to the pleasantries," says Harry.

Charlie doesn't take much convincing. They don't tell him everything. He pours them drinks and they don't really tell him anything.

Charlie moves down the hallway and beckons them to follow. His bedroom is comfortable and warm. A large bed with a soft-looking quilt is in the middle of the simply furnished room. Charlie lights a lamp. Its glow is warm and low and bathes both of these exceedingly beautiful men in gold.

"Get your clothes off, both of you," orders Harry. He wants to see the contrast of dark and fair, smooth and freckled, tall and lean and shorter and stocky. He cock swells at the thought.

"I'm not all that used to taking orders," says Charlie. "Although, I find I don't mind from you." He tosses he shirt onto an armchair. His trousers hang low across his hips and Harry stares at the bulge of his erection.

"Well, I'm not taking orders. You get yours off," Kingsley says, pointing at Harry. "And you can watch and see how you like knowing that his hands are on me, that someone else is inside me. You can see how it feels and then you can tell me if I should forgive you."

"Oh god," moans Harry, pressing his hand against his cock. He strips off and tosses his clothes to the chair. Charlie and Kingsley watch his every move and he can't help but thrill at the intoxicating feeling of being the centre of their attention.

Kingsley pulls Charlie to him and leans down to kiss him. They look beautiful together and Harry stares, as if he'll see more, remember more, if he strains a muscle.

"Lie down," Kingsley says. He gives Charlie's shoulder a shove and Charlie barely moves.

Charlie smirks and reclines on the bed. His cock stands straight up, thick and red, from the nest of ginger curls. He's every bit as gorgeous as he was the first time Harry saw him. Kingsley moves with his powerful elegance and Harry feels almost honoured to witness his beauty, as he always does. Kingsley straddles Charlie, his powerful thighs on either side of Charlie's body.

"Kiss him," Harry says, speaking to them both.

Kingsley leans down and Charlie arches up. Their lips connect. Kingsley is slow and methodical. His technique is flawless. Charlie is quick and rough, pushing against him and using his teeth and tongue. Harry can see their tongues sliding against each other. Kingsley grinds down against Charlie and Charlie thrusts up. It's a struggle for dominance and neither one is giving and inch. Harry strokes his aching cock.

Kingsley rolls his hips and Harry watches Charlie's cock slip and slide against his cleft. He's never watched Kingsley move like this, he's only felt it.

Harry moves across the room. He's been told not to touch, but he can't. He can't stand it. He needs to feel Kingsley's velvet soft skin under his fingers. He smoothes his hands over Kingsley's back and Kingsley moans softly, no recrimination or rejection. Harry's heart soars.

He runs his hands down to the small of Kingsley's back and over his round, muscular arse. He keeps going, across Charlie's hard thigh, touching them both, feeling both of their power and strength.

Charlie's cock is pressing up against Kingsley's arse. Harry palms it, presses it against Kingsley. They both moan, Kingsley in his round, sweet baritone, Charlie in a rough, raw bass.

"Catch," gasps Charlie and Harry looks up just in time to see a small bottle of oil flying at his head.

He snatches it out of the air like a snitch.

"Fuck me, Weasley," Kingsley says. "You, oil him," he says to Harry. "I want you to feel every inch of what I'm going to feel. Get him ready for me and then watch."

"Merlin," Harry groans. He inches forward, kneeling on the bed. He pours oil onto his palm and slicks Charlie's cock. Charlie moans and moves his hips, encouraging Harry to stroke him. Harry's fist bumps against Kingsley's arse with every stroke.

"Enough," Kingsley says. He leans back and grasps Charlie's cock. "Watch," he says to Harry again, as if he could do anything else.

Kingsley sits back and Charlie's cock pushes against his entrance. Harry holds his breath. He wishes he could watch Kingsley's face at the same time as he watches Charlie's cock slowly breach his lover. Kingsley sighs and Harry knows that Charlie is in. Kingsley starts to move and so does Charlie and neither of them is giving way. Kingsley reaches forward and grabs the headboard and Harry can see Charlie's cock moving in and out of him. Charlie bends his knees and thrusts up harder.

Harry squeezes his cock. The sounds they are making are driving him mad. He wants them both so badly that he can hardly breathe.

"Kingsley," he says and it comes out a ragged plea.

"You may touch," Kingsley says, reading his mind.

Harry moves until he is between Charlie's legs, behind Kingsley. He puts his hand on Kingsley's back and feels the play of muscles. He pushes him forward.

"Kiss," he says. He won't be able to see them, but he'll know and now he can picture it.

The angle changes the way Charlie's cock enters Kingsley and Harry dips his head and laves his tongue up Charlie's cock. His hair brushes Kingsley's arse and they both moan. He licks up the underside of Charlie's cock again.

"Fuck, Harry," Kingsley gasps. Harry can feel Kingsley waiting to see what Harry will do. He's waiting for Harry to lick him and Harry never tires of the way his voice goes desperate and rough when he's waiting for Harry's tongue on his arse.

"How does it feel? How does it feel in your arse?" Harry asks. He hears a slight edge to his tone. He strokes his own cock and grips the base to stave off his orgasm.

"Big," Kingsley says. He's moving now, angling his hips to get Charlie deeper. "Good."

"Tight, fuck," Charlie groans.

"You want us both, don't you?" Harry asks, not sure which one of them he's addressing. "We both want you." Harry says. He's flying. He's the only one who can see what Kingsley's arse looks like stretched around Charlie's cock, who can see the flex of Charlie's thighs as he thrusts up into Kingsley. "Lucky for us."

Harry leans again and they both freeze as he runs his tongue along Charlie's cock, trailing it up to circle Kingsley's rim.

"Harry," moans Kingsley, deep and low.

Charlie thrusts slowly as Harry laps at Kingsley's hole. He tastes the taught muscles and feels the way Charlie's thick cock stretches him. Harry flattens his tongue and licks Charlie's cock, wetting Kingsley even more.

"Do it," Kingsley orders.

They didn't talk about it before coming here. And yet, Harry knew as soon as he saw Kingsley start to fuck himself on Charlie's cock that this is where it was going.

"I want you to feel him, someone other than you, inside me," Kingsley says.

"Bloody hell," Charlie gasps. His fingers curl around Kingsley's waist.

Harry kneels in the 'v' of Charlie's legs, behind Kingsley. Kingsley's arse seems to grip Charlie's body, trying to keep him inside. He can't imagine how he'll fit. And maybe that's just how Kingsley wanted him to feel.

Harry grabs the bottle of oil again. Charlie keeps fucking Kingsley, or maybe it's the other way around. Harry could come just from watching them and feeling the power roll off them in waves.

He slicks his cock. He strokes it and imagines what it will feel like to have all that power and intensity joined with his body. Harry moves so he can press his chest and cheek against Kingsley's back—comforting, familiar, and always, still, just a little dangerous. Kingsley tenses for just a second. He doesn't pull away and that he allows this tiny show of tenderness makes Harry sigh with relief.

He slides his index finger into Kingsley's body, pressing it against Charlie's cock. The tight ring of muscle squeezes his finger and Kingsley groans.

"You still want us both?" Harry asks.

"Yes," both Kingsley and Charlie say in unison.

He slides another finger in. He strokes Charlie's cock inside Kingsley's body and moves his fingers to stretch Kingsley even more.

"That's enough," Kingsley growls. "I told you to do it."

"Keep still for a minute." Harry slides his cock alongside the base of Charlie's. He rubs the head of his cock over the part of Charlie's that is not inside Kingsley.

Charlie bucks, thrusting hard into Kingsley. "Fuck, Harry."

"Stay still," Harry says. He has to breathe, has to concentrate, or he'll come now just from the thought of what he's about to do.

He presses forward and feels incredible pressure, heat like nothing he's felt before. He caresses Kingsley's back and arse with one hand. "Okay?" Harry asks.

"Now, Harry," Kingsley says.

Harry thrusts inside. He's never felt anything like it. Kingsley is so tight around him, it's almost too much. Charlie's cock slides against his and he pushes inside until he can feel the heads of their cocks touch.

"Feel it," Kingsley says. His smooth voice has a rough edge to it that Harry rarely hears. "How do you like another man fucking me?"

"Fuck, yes," Harry says, closing his eyes and angling his thrusts so he can feel every inch of Charlie's cock.

Charlie laughs, dirty and low, and it occurs to Harry that he might have given the wrong answer.

It doesn't matter. Kingsley picks up the pace, meeting Charlie's thrusts, forcing Harry deeper inside him. He grips the headboard with one hand. Harry feels the muscles in Kingsley's shoulder contract as he works his hand over his cock. He arches his back and Harry wraps an arm around his waist.

"Merlin, fuck," groans Charlie. He thrusts up harder and faster and Harry feels like Charlie's fucking him every bit as much as he is Kingsley. Kingsley clenches around them and Harry can feel it, he can feel Charlie's cock pulse as he comes.

"Keep going," Kingsley demands.

It's slippery and hot and Harry's cock slides through Charlie's come. He fucks Kingsley in slow, even strokes. Charlie's cock starts to soften and it will slip from Kingsley's body soon. Harry wants to feel them both as long as he can. He wants to feel them both when he comes. Kingsley grinds down and Harry wonders if he's trying to keep Charlie with them, too.

Charlie swears and shifts. "Too much, mates," he says. The sensation of his cock slipping from Kingsley's body is almost enough to put Harry over the edge. Charlie slides out from under Kingsley. He moves so he can watch.

Harry closes his eyes. It's just the two of them, him with his hands on Kingsley and Kingsley rocking back against him, pushing him every step of the way. It's just them again, but he can still feel that Charlie was there.

He reaches around and grabs Kingsley's cock. It won't take much. He strokes him, the familiar rhythm that works for them every time. Kingsley tenses and moans and his loosened hole tightens around Harry's cock. Harry pushes in deep one last time and his vision goes white and his ears ring as his orgasm pours through him. He keeps thrusting gently as he softens, until Kingsley slides to the bed.

"You two are quite the pair," Charlie says. He scrubs his hands over his face and hair, leaning against the headboard.

Harry's bones have abandoned him. He can't move and he doesn't want to know what comes next. There will be talks and there are implications and complications. Now all he knows is that he wants both of these men. And he's afraid both that Kingsley feels the same and that he doesn't in equal parts. Kingsley turns to lie on his back and regards Harry.

"That was my punishment?" Harry asks, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Harry, we need to talk," says Kingsley.

"You know where I am when you're finished talking," Charlie says. He smiles and shrugs.

"We do," Kingsley says. "Don't go anywhere. I have some thoughts to share with Harry and then, if all goes well, I'll have another proposition for you."

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Harry has a thing for powerful men, but then, so does Kingsley.