The Wolf Who Heralds RagnarökAuthor: themightyflynnCharacters/Pairings:
Charlie Weasley/Teddy LupinRating:
Crossdressing, xenophilia: a sexual attraction to the exotic, strangers, or the unknown.Other Warnings/Content:
Age difference, prostitution, anal, bachelor auction (sort of).Word Count:
Charlie has always preferred the anonymity of sex at the most exclusive club in wizarding London: Anaconda. He never expected to find something life-changing there when he returns after twenty years.Author's Notes:
Well, this kind of got away from me this month. I hope you all like it, these prompts were fun to play with! :)
The sharp scents of sweat and a delicious musk hit Charlie’s senses the second he entered Anaconda. Reaching up automatically, he made certain that the facemask he wore was on tightly. Not that he thought anyone would be fooled by it; his hair colour tended to give away his identity in London’s wizarding circles, even ones as secretive as this one.
“Good evening, sir. May I take your cloak?”
Even the attendants at these gatherings wore facemasks. Not ones as elaborate as those of the guests, but enough to obscure their identities. Charlie nodded, handing over the black cloak he wore over his jeans and shirt. He glanced around.
The room was buzzing with people. Men and women pushed each other at the bar, rubbed up against each other on the dancefloor, and writhed together in booths and on the floor. Each wore a facemask similar in style to the one Charlie wore: moulded to his face, it was made of satin and decorated with diamantes and glitter. It covered his face from just above his jaw to his hairline, leaving space open for him to both breathe and speak. He grinned.
“Has the entertainment begun?” he asked the attendant when the man returned from the cloakroom.
The attendant bowed his head slightly. “Partially, sir. The schedule for tonight can be found by the bar.”
Charlie knew a dismissal when he heard one. Nodding his thanks, he made his way slowly around the edge of the dancefloor, heading towards the bar.
As expected for late on a Friday night, Anaconda was bursting with people. The ones Charlie could see from the doorway where the attendant stood were only the tip of the iceberg. The dancefloor was absolutely jampacked. Charlie could see people in costume to go along with their masks, full-on leather and lace, as well as the more casually-dressed, like himself. Anaconda tended to attract the wilder side of wizarding London. It wasn’t the dancefloor Charlie was here for that night, however. Squeezing his way past couples in various stages of undress – at least he hoped that the bare breasts he caught a glimpse of had been covered at some point – he made his way slowly over to the bar.
“Can I get a–”
The orders were practically screamed as the patrons tried to make themselves heard over the noise of people and music. Trying not to step on anyone, Charlie pushed through the throngs, aiming for the schedule of the night’s entertainment pinned to the noticeboard by the bar. He was sweating beneath his mask by the time he reached it.Live band: Funky Hippogriff
9:00 – Anaconda dancers – Main dancefloor
10:00 – Amateur strip show – Green Room
11:00 – Anaconda show and auction – Blue Room
12:00 – Reveal party
Charlie grinned as he checked his watch. Ten forty-five. Just enough time to grab himself a drink or two and settle in for the show.
It had been a long time since Charlie had been in town at the same time Anaconda had had their show and auction on. There had been a time when he had been a regular at the shows; had been on a first name basis with the bouncer and bar staff, in fact. That was a good twenty years ago now, at least, he thought. Right after the end of the war, when he had stayed in England to help with the clean-up and restoration. Sadly, Anaconda was the only place he had found in England where he could indulge in some of his more… unusual fantasies. Squeezing through the crowd with a bottle of Firewhisky in hand, he made his way over to the Blue Room.
The noise from the dancefloor and general patrons quieted the second Charlie stepped into the Blue Room. Pausing in the doorway, he took a few seconds to just take it all in again. The room hadn’t changed a single bit in the twenty years since he had been a regular. The walls and ceiling were painted various shades of blue – hence the name – all fading into one another until the darkest of them all merged in the centre of the ceiling. A dark-coloured wooden stage was set up at one end, with an extended platform running down the centre of the room. Mismatched chairs dotted the floor, each with a respectable distance between them. This was not a room for couples to come and canoodle. No, it was a room for people like Charlie, who had tastes that ran more towards the unusual side of sexual fantasy. Grabbing a chair by the stage, he settled in, taking small sips of his Firewhisky while he waited. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a magically-enhanced voice boomed, causing several of the patrons to jump. Charlie grinned again as he settled further into his chair. “Please welcome your first act of the night: Sapphire!”
The woman who stepped onto the stage would have been absolutely perfect to Charlie, had he been anywhere else. His preferences had never distinguished between men and women; he had always like both equally. Tonight, though, he was here for one particular purpose.
As Sapphire danced, various patrons stood to make bids on her. All incredibly secret, of course. Anaconda prided themselves on being as discreet as possible under the circumstances. After her music ended, she walked off stage and into the arms of the winning bidder. Charlie watched on with a mild amusement as he saw surprise, then desire flare in the winner’s eyes.
The next two women were so similar to the first that Charlie began to fidget partway through the second one’s dance routine. It was incredibly rude of him, he knew, but surely Anaconda hadn’t dropped their standards so far as to now only be catering to one type of patron? The next person onstage blew that idea straight out of his mind, however.
Tall and stocky, the man wore nothing other than a pair of tight leather shorts. He strutted onstage and merely stood there, putting himself on display for the patrons. Charlie took a good, long look at him. His arms and legs had been oiled, making him seem musclier than he actually was. He flexed as he stood onstage, showing off his tight arse as he turned. Heat washed through Charlie, and he stood to place a bid in the magical box at the front of the stage. The man winked at him as he sat back down.
He wasn’t quite what Charlie was after that night, but he would do, if Charlie was the highest bidder. At the end of the allotted time, however, it seemed as though he had lost out. The man stepped offstage and marched over to where two men sat together, huge grins on their faces. Charlie let out a sigh. Not a great loss, but a shame all the same.
There were two more men that Charlie made half-hearted bids on during the course of the show that night. It was pushing eleven thirty when he lost the second bid, on a young man dressed in the tiniest pair of underwear Charlie had ever seen. His skin tingled with excitement as the man stepped from the stage and met his eyes on his way to the winning bidder. Biting his tongue in frustration, he sighed. Perhaps he was doomed to exit the club alone that night?
“Please welcome Garmr!”
Charlie’s attention was still on the man exiting the room with the last winning bidder to pay much attention to the man who now entered the stage. With the buzz of alcohol and excitement from the last performance running through him, he was getting a bit antsy. He didn’t begin to pay attention again until he heard a hoot from behind him. His attention now grabbed, Charlie’s head whipped back to the stage. What he saw took his breath away.
The man was tall and slender. His hair was a flaming red – real, proper red, not the Weasley orange – contrasting with his incredibly pale skin. Charlie’s eyes widened as the man moved on stage. Sliding his hands down his body, he moved the thin material of the shirt he wore aside so he could slide his fingertips into the waistband of his… Charlie’s breath hitched. Skirt. The man wore a miniskirt that barely covered his arse. Pleated and tartan, it flipped upwards with each movement of the man’s hips.
“Place your bids, ladies and gentlemen! Garmr will be here for the next two minutes!”
Charlie scrambled. The remnants of his bottle of Firewhisky went flying as he attempted to get to his money faster than any of the remaining patrons. By the time he made it to the box in front of the stage, two others were already there, each trying to place their bids as secretly as possible, so as not to allow the other to outbid him. Charlie knew he had
to be the one who claimed this man, however. Scooping up the rest of his Galleons – he couldn’t quite recall just how many he had left – he dumped them into the box without ceremony. The other two men stared at him incredulously. Charlie merely grinned at them.
“Outbid me, if you think you can.”
They did try, Charlie would give them that. In the end, however, Garmr was his. Taking the young man’s hand, Charlie led him off through the crowd.
“Congratulations, sir,” one of the masked attendants murmured as soon as Charlie and his prize reached the door. “Right through here, if you will.”
Anaconda’s private rooms didn’t seem to have changed much in the past twenty years, either. Not that the décor was what Charlie was focussed on at that moment. Moving into the room, he released the man’s hand and stood staring at him.
He wore a loose white shirt, made of a material thin enough to be see-through. The sleeves billowed out with each movement, making it perfect for dancing onstage. Charlie’s eyes roamed his lightly toned chest and flat stomach before dropping to the skirt he wore. Another shiver ran the length of Charlie’s body.
“Like what you see?”
Charlie licked his lips. “Wouldn’t have bid on you if I didn’t.”
Garmr’s mask twitched as he grinned. “What would you like, then?”
Options raced through Charlie’s mind. He knew that he wanted, rather desperately, to press this young man up against the wall and fuck him senseless. He had paid good Galleons for the privilege, however, so perhaps he should take advantage of the time he had bought?
“Dance for me.”
Stepping back until his knees came into contact with something soft, he sat down. Garmr stood just inside the doorway, watching Charlie silently for a few seconds. It wasn’t until Charlie placed a hand on his thigh and spread his legs that the man began to move.
It was slow at first. He kept his eyes locked with Charlie’s as his hands slid all over his body, lifting the shirt as they moved. Without the beat of the music to guide him, Garmr was free to set his own pace. Rolling his hips, he flicked the skirt up at the back and grinned at Charlie’s appreciative smile. His movements got smoother as he grew in confidence. One hand trailed light touches up his throat and the back of his neck until it could tangle through his bright red hair. The other moved, just as slowly, down his stomach. He timed it just right so that his fingertips slid into the waistband of the skirt just as he tugged on his hair.
Charlie could feel his skin heating with every movement of the young man’s body. Tingles raced each other through him with each roll of his hips; each flick of the skirt. The hand resting on his thigh clenched as Garmr spun in a slow circle, giving Charlie a view of his arse as his hips rolled.
“Garmr.” Charlie’s voice was rough, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. “The wolf who heralds Ragnarök.”
Garmr didn’t stop moving. “The end of the world,” he agreed, with a small smile.
Pushing himself from the chair, Charlie took a step forward. “You want to end the world?”
He let out an involuntary gasp when Garmr turned once again and pressed close, his back to Charlie’s front. The hand in Garmr’s hair slid up and around Charlie’s neck. The other stayed in the waistband of the skirt. Although, now, with the angle he was being treated to, Charlie could easily see the small movements it was making beneath the material.
“Not until I’ve lived a little more.”
Charlie let out a growl as Garmr pushed back into him. Garmr’s tight arse rubbed against Charlie’s erection as his hips continued to roll slowly. Pleasure jolted through him, sending his mind spinning with want. Garmr gasped when Charlie gripped his hips and stepped forward, pressing him to the wood of the door.
“I can help with that.”
Garmr groaned as Charlie slipped a hand beneath the skirt to grip his cock. Giving up all pretence of dancing, he arched his back, pressing shamelessly back into Charlie.
“No names,” Charlie whispered as he fumbled with the fly of his jeans one-handed. The anonymity of Anaconda was one of the appeals of the place for him. Being allowed to have sex with complete strangers safely, without fear of the press discovering him, had become increasingly difficult after the war. Anaconda had solved that problem nicely. “Agreed?”
Garmr arched his back further, grinding into Charlie. “Agreed.”
It was difficult, trying to free himself from his jeans with a fit young man pressing insistently into him. Charlie absolutely refused to remove his hand from Garmr’s cock to make things easier on himself, however. Hot and thick, it felt absolutely perfect in his hand. Garmr let out a groan when Charlie silently cast the protection and preparation charms.
The skirt made things easier than they really should have been, given their relative positions. Charlie lifted it and yanked the knickers Garmr wore beneath it down before pressing in. His head spun as Garmr groaned his appreciation.
They fell into a rhythm quickly. Moving in sync, Charlie thrust in as Garmr pushed back into him, taking him deeper with each thrust. Garmr placed both hands on the door, balancing them out as they moved. His head hung between them and Charlie could hear his breaths coming in harsh gasps.
“Ohhhh, yes… Yes, please…”
Pressure built quickly in the small of Charlie’s back. Heat and pleasure rocked through him in waves. His vision blurred as his orgasm approached.
“Oh – ohh, yessss…”
Garmr’s hair seemed to flicker a couple of times as he tipped over into orgasm. Changing rapidly from the hot red it had been, it shifted to a turquoise blue as he moaned.
“Yes, Charlie, yes…”
Charlie’s eyes closed tight. Thrusting hard into the willing body before him, he froze as his orgasm hit. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him, causing his entire body to tremble. He collapsed forward once it released him, pinning Garmr to the door.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, panting heavily. When he did manage to come back to his senses, the very first thing that came back to Charlie was the flickering of Garmr’s hair, and his name on the young man’s tongue as he reached completion. Staggering backwards, he collapsed down onto the chair behind him. A wave of his hand had them both clean.
Teddy stood leaning against the door. His hair was once again bright red and his chest heaved with the heavy breaths he was taking. Tilting his head to the side, he grinned as he removed the facemask.
“The wolf who heralds Ragnarök.”
Taking in the sight before him, Charlie smiled. It may not have been world-ending, but that night had certainly changed something. Teddy’s wide smile as Charlie peeled his own facemask off gave Charlie the hope that what he heralded was something good.