Title: Burn
Author: gracerene
Characters/Pairings: Charlie Weasley, Male Dragon/Female Dragon, brief fantasy of Charlie/Male Dragon
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Pyrophilia & Rape Fantasy (kind of?)
Other Warnings/Content: masturbation, masochism, pyrophilia, het dragon sex, (kind of) voyeurism, (kind of) rape fantasy, bestiality fantasy, mild burn kink
Word Count: ~1,650
Summary/Description: Everybody knew Charlie loved dragons, but nobody had ever thought to ask him why.
Author's Notes: And so continues my quest to write the weirdest/kinkiest shit possible. It is my destiny. You're welcome. ;)

Thank you so very much to capitu and pauraque for their willingness to look this weird-ass fic over. Y'all are the best! <3

Charlie leaned against the large oak tree at the edge of the clearing, his cock already rising in anticipation. Dragos, a beautiful Romanian Longhorn that Charlie had helped raise from a hatchling, was prowling menacingly through the area, black smoke billowing from his nostrils. He'd just recently hit sexual maturity, which meant he'd finally gained the ability to breathe fire, a talent he'd yet to fully master. Thankfully, the clearing was heavily warded, which meant Dragos was free to spontaneously combust to his heart's content without risk to the forest—or to the rest of the Reserve— a necessity that became clear moments later when Dragos sneezed and managed to unleash a twenty-foot jet of molten flame.

Charlie was standing well over a hundred yards away, and even from that distance he could feel the sudden warmth from the fire undulating over him in a hot gust of shimmering wind. He shuddered, and his half-hard cock fully stiffened in his trousers.

Charlie always had loved fire.

Most people thought he'd run off to Romania for his love of dragons, and though they weren't entirely wrong—he'd been drawn to the majestic beasts since he was a boy—nobody truly understood the root of his obsession. Long before he'd latched onto dragons, Charlie had been fascinated by fire, the sensual flickering of flame, the rush of heat across his skin, the seductive danger of fire's insatiable hunger, the way it ravenously consumed everything in its path. It was only natural that his love of fire would extend to the powerful creatures who wielded it with such mastery and grace.

Ever since he was a baby-faced Trainee Handler on the Reserve, Charlie had been sneaking off at night to watch the dragons whenever he thought he could get away with it. It wasn't as if he didn't get plenty of exposure to dragonfire in the course of a standard work day—he had the pleasure of having the scars to prove it—but surrounded by his peers, he had to shrug off his untimely erections as results of adrenaline should somebody notice them, and he certainly couldn't take himself in hand the way he wanted to every time one of the dragons released a column of flame.

Here, alone in the dark and nestled among the trees, he was free to look and feel to his heart's content. And feel he did, reaching down to massage his aching groin as Dragos let out another spout of fire, so hot that the heart of the flame shone blue-white in the night.

Charlie was reaching for his flies, when the sudden whisper of wings from above caught his attention. With barely a sound, Zillah, one of the female Longhorns who was several years older than Dragos, touched down in the middle of the clearing. Dragos immediately took note, rearing up onto his hind legs and unfurling his wings to their full width as he puffed out his muscular chest, clearly preening for a potential mate. The moonlight reflected brightly off the glittering gold of Dragos's horns, already impressive despite the fact that he had another year or two until they would be fully grown. Zillah seemed impressed as well, and Charlie was surprised, given her age and experience, when she fluttered her own wings against the ground in a facsimile of a bow, indicating her willingness to mate with him. This was unexpected, but Charlie's cock twitched in anticipation—dragon matings were notoriously fiery affairs.

In all his years as a Dragon Handler, Charlie had seen less than a dozen dragon matings first hand. Not only were female dragons notoriously picky when it came to who they'd let mount them, but they also valued seclusion and privacy, and rarely mated in view of the handlers. If Zillah had known Charlie was watching them now, she likely would have rebuffed Dragos's advances, or perhaps encouraged them to relocate.

Lucky for him, Charlie was well hidden.

The majority of dragon matings occurred while aloft, but it wasn't unheard of for them to take place on the ground, and Charlie found himself fervently hoping that this would be one of the times they didn't take to wing. He wanted fire, the sight and the smell and the blistering heat of it, so close he could practically feel it draping over his skin like a warm cloak. Given the dark of the night, he'd still be able to enjoy the bright splashes of fire in the sky during Dragos and Zillah's coupling should they take flight, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying.

Apparently, it was Charlie's lucky night, because when Dragos began to advance on Zillah, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nostrils like he'd downed a whole case of Pepper Imps, she stayed grounded, coyly unleashing a violet jet of flame straight at him.

Thus began the fire-filled battle that preceded all dragon matings, a wild, violent display that made Charlie's cock leak while the air around him grew hot and arid from the force of their bellows. Everything in Charlie wanted to undo his trousers and wank to the sight, but he made himself wait, deciding to hold off on his satisfaction until Dragos found his. To tide himself over, Charlie ran his fingertips along the large burn scar covering most of his left forearm instead, his body tingling as he watched the dragons dance and remembered the embrace of dragonflame licking across his own skin.

Eventually, Dragos managed to pin Zillah down, his forelegs braced against her scaled back as his massive cock slid out of his sheath. It was difficult to see given the distance, the darkness, and the large legs and tails obscuring the way, but Charlie could make things out well enough, and he could certainly hear when Dragos finally pushed inside, both dragons unleashing twin jets of golden flame as they roared.

Charlie shoved his trousers down and took hold of his cock as Dragos began to thrust violently, he and Zillah both bellowing smoke and sound and fire. The mating was brutal and animalistic, driven entirely by primal instincts, and the dragons were beautiful in their beastly savagery. Charlie's arse clenched as he watched, Dragos's enthusiasm reminding him how long it had been since he'd had a good, hard fuck of his own. He wondered what it felt like for Zillah to be taken so forcefully, Dragos's large prick plunging in and out of her without any care for her comfort. She certainly seemed to be enjoying it well enough, or at least she wasn't making any attempts to throw Dragos off. Flames spilled from both their jaws as they rutted together, bathing their scales, and the clearing, in hot, orange light.

If Dragos had wanted Charlie, instead of Zillah, there wouldn't have been anything he could have done to stop him. Even with all his magic, a singular wizard would be hard-pressed to overcome a dragon set on mating. Charlie would've just had to take it. He'd be powerless beneath Dragos, forced to do whatever he wanted despite the inevitable consequences. His cock throbbed as he imagined it, dripping precome all over his fingers. Merlin, Charlie wouldn't last five seconds in a dragon mating: if the dragon's cock didn't kill him, the flames certainly would. Oh, but what a way to go, embraced by that pure, white-hot heat.

Charlie was so lost in his fantasy that he hadn't noticed that Dragos's ferocious mating had moved him and Zillah around the clearing, turning them both so that Charlie was now directly in Dragos's line of sight. A ground-shaking bellow caught Charlie's attention, bringing his gaze up to meet Dragos's burning stare. Even separated by over a hundred yards and several layers of the strongest wards magic could create, Charlie's heart still skipped several beats before thrumming faster than the wings on a Snitch. Every instinct told Charlie to run as quick as he could from the predator that had set its sights on him. The danger only made his cock only grow harder, and Charlie was too far gone to stop now.

Dragos was in a similar situation—clearly unwilling to stop his mating, but very much unhappy about the usurper on his territory while he was at his most vulnerable. He let out another mighty roar before unleashing a fifty-foot jet of molten fire straight towards Charlie.

Charlie came.

The column of flame was truly spectacular, gorgeous tendrils of red and orange and gold dancing together, more deadly and more beautiful than a Veela. Charlie was too far away for the flames to reach—and behind the protective ward to boot—but he could smell the sulphurous burn and feel the heat of it washing over his skin as he shuddered through the aftermath of his release.

Fuck, that was just about the most intense orgasm of Charlie's life, leaving him shaking and sated as he leaned against the oak tree. Dragos was still eyeing him with hostility, and Charlie didn't actually have a death wish, so he cast a quick Concealment Charm with the little energy he had left. The second he was out of sight, Dragos let out a triumphant burst of flame and set about fucking Zillah all the harder.

Charlie might have been spent, but that didn't mean he couldn't still enjoy the show. He cleaned off and tucked himself back in, getting comfortable against the tree trunk as the dragons continued to mate. As they got closer to their peak, the pyrotechnic display grew more vivid and brilliant, bursts of fire in varying degrees of heat and colour lighting up the night sky in a captivating display that made Charlie's heart pound an uneven tattoo against his rib cage.

Charlie's cock gave a half-hearted twitch, and he grinned despite his current inability to get it up so soon for round two. It was no matter. There was always tomorrow night.