Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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11th December 2007 20:49 - Fic and Art: Cultivating Dragons (Charlie/Neville)
Title: Cultivating Dragons
Authors: [info]emiime and [info]celandineb
Artist: [info]ericahpfa [ETA: Art now up, yay!]
Medium: pen & ink
Characters: Charlie/Neville
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: blow jobs, paddling, watersports
Themes/kinks chosen: Kinky Kristmas Kollaboration 2007.
Word Count: ~9800
Summary: In which Neville goes to Romania and soaks up some new ideas.


Neville closed his trunk with a sharp click and used Reducio to shrink it to a size that he could easily carry. He had already double-checked to make certain he had everything that he thought he would need in Romania; and, after all, if there turned out to be something he had forgotten, Charlie would know where he could buy a replacement.

He smiled to himself. It had all come together rather well. There was no real need for him to stay at Hogwarts this summer. He had planned ahead and there was nothing in the greenhouses that couldn't be tended to by the house-elves with careful instruction. Officially he was acting as a consultant to the Healers at the dragon preserve, advising them on herbs that they could grow locally to treat both dragon and wizard ailments and injuries, but unofficially he would be spending six weeks with his long-time, if intermittent, lover.

They had been together for more than fifteen years now, meeting over holidays mostly, although occasionally Charlie turned up without warning in Hogsmeade during the school year and lured Neville to the Three Broomsticks over a Saturday night. Neville was certain that Charlie had other lovers in Romania from time to time, but he had learned to live with that as the price of being with Charlie when he could. Both of them found their careers too important to give up, so they had to compromise in other areas. If Neville had had the opportunity to see other men once in a while, he might have done so, and Charlie would have accepted it--Neville knew that to be true, for Charlie had urged him on several occasions to do so. But it seemed more trouble than it was worth, during terms, and at holidays Neville would rather see Charlie himself.

Neville traveled via Floo Network to the Ministry in London, from which he took a Portkey to Bucharest. Charlie was waiting there for him, as arranged. The only good way to reach the dragon preserve was by broom, and Neville had never grown comfortable with flying solo. He was quite happy to ride double with Charlie, however.

Charlie greeted Neville with a smile and a quick squeeze that held a thousand promises. Once Neville was safely ensconced behind Charlie on the broom and they were away from the crowd at the Portkey station, Neville relaxed, slipping his arms around Charlie's waist and pressing a kiss between Charlie's shoulder blades. He inhaled Charlie's familiar, long-anticipated scent, rested against him, and smiled.

Neither man spoke until they reached Charlie's quarters at the dragon preserve. They stood apart for a moment, then Charlie shook his head and broke into a wide grin and enveloped Neville in one of his massive hugs.

"Missed you," Neville murmured against Charlie's throat, and Charlie echoed back the sentiment, then held Neville at arms' length for a moment.

"You look... fantastic," Charlie said, fumbling a little for the word. Compliments were not his forte, and so he rarely gave them--he said he always felt insincere no matter how hard he tried, no matter that Neville had told him it was the trying that was the problem--and Neville gave a wry smile.

"I look exactly the same," he said, and he did. It was Charlie who looked fantastic, even if he hadn't changed at all, either.

"Well, I don't care," Charlie said, and he pulled Neville close again. "I'm just glad to have you. Six weeks, Nev. Do you realise how many horrible things I can do to you in six weeks?"

"Like what?" asked Neville with a touch of apprehension. He wasn't in bad shape physically--he couldn't be, not working in the Hogwarts greenhouses as he did--but compared with the muscles Charlie had developed by being outside among the dragons, day in and day out, he felt a bit of a weakling. If Charlie was talking about climbing mountains or something like that...

"Mm. A few places I want you to see, and I've picked up a few things over the years that I want to share with you," said Charlie into Neville's hair. "Tomorrow I'll introduce you to everyone and you can start looking into what grows locally and what we might be able to cultivate, but tonight I just want to take you to bed and wear you out. Unless you were hungry?"

Neville shook his head. "Later, maybe."

"Good." Charlie's smile was not quite as predatory as a dragon's as he pulled Neville down onto the bed and began to undress them both.

Rather more than an hour later, Neville grinned at Charlie. "Now I'm hungry."

"And I'm worn out." Charlie stretched languorously. "Been saving your strength for this, haven't you?"

"You know I always do." Neville raised himself up on an elbow. "So. Dinner? Or maybe a shower first." Not that he minded being a bit grubby and sweaty, but warm water to wash away the travel grime sounded pleasant.

"The shower's through there," Charlie pointed at a door, "or there's a hot tub and a sauna that are available for anyone to use. As long as you don't have a problem with mixed nude bathing."

"I've never done it, but I don't think I'd mind," said Neville. He'd been naked in front of the other boys in the dormitory as a student many times, and he didn't really care what women thought about his body.

He opted for Charlie's shower, though, in the interest of time--he was starving, and he didn't want Charlie to fall asleep on him, as had been known to happen, while he relaxed in the sauna, as pleasant as the sauna did sound. Maybe later, when everyone else was asleep, he and Charlie could spend some time in there alone together.

Neville shook himself and washed his hair quickly, ignoring the interested twitch his prick had given at the thought of rolling around the sauna with Charlie, naked and sweaty and strong.

When he was clean and dressed and feeling human again, Neville stepped into the bedroom only to find that Charlie had indeed fallen asleep, completely naked, stretched out on top of the rumpled sheets. Neville grinned. As strong as Charlie was, and as many lovers as Neville knew he'd likely had over the time they were apart, it was good to know that Neville could still wear him out.

Neville crawled onto the bed to murmur in Charlie's ear.

"Wake up, old man," he teased, "Don't tell me I've broken you down already. It's going to be a long, boring six weeks if I have to navigate Romania all on my own." He ran a hand down Charlie's chest, tangling his fingers in the patch of hair he found there, and gave a tug.

"Not asleep," Charlie grumbled, swatting at Neville's hand.

"Good, then you can tell me what you're planning to do about dinner for us."

Charlie yawned. "There's a canteen for the staff, but it'll close in--" He squinted at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. There are restaurants in the nearest Muggle town, though, or you can risk my cooking. I've some tins of soup around."

"The town," said Neville firmly. "I want a drink. I am on a working holiday, emphasis tonight on holiday."

"I'll take a fast shower and put on some clothes, then."

Very shortly they were back on Charlie's broom, swooping through the sky towards the town. Charlie had Disillusioned them both, saying that it might not be perfect but should do the trick in keeping any Muggles from spotting them.

"It's a good thing you want a drink, because meals here traditionally begin with one," Charlie told him as they entered a restaurant that Charlie said was a good one. "It's a kind of plum brandy, ţuica."

"Swee-kah," Neville repeated. "Ţuica." The liquor was strong but mellow, served with tomatoes and cheese, and Neville felt very relaxed as they drank it, though he was glad to learn that they would switch to wine for the rest of the meal.

The food was simple but hearty--Neville hadn't a clue what Charlie had ordered from the well-endowed waitress, but he recognised sausages on his plate, and potatoes, and peppers, and some sort of a corn porridge. They ate well, and the wine flowed freely, and Neville soon sat low in his chair, his eyes half-lidded. Charlie was smiling and flushed and gorgeous after an evening of sex and sleep and food, and Neville found Charlie's leg under the table and pressed his own against it.

"Dragostea trece prin stomac," Charlie commented, his voice low, and Neville lifted an eyebrow.

"What's that about my stomach?"

Charlie smiled and pressed his leg back against Neville's, replying again in Romanian.

"Pofta vine mâncănd. Appetite comes while eating, eh, Neville?" And Charlie's big hand found Neville's thigh, and Neville nodded as Charlie squeezed it.

"Maybe we should keep our appetites in check until we get back to your rooms, though," Neville mumbled, but he couldn't help smiling. "And, you know," he added, his voice as low as Charlie's had been, the wine in his blood causing him to lean a little closer than he might usually have done in such a public place, "I never realised Romanian could be a sexy language until I heard you speaking it. How come I've never heard you speak it before?"

"Oh," replied Charlie, "I only know enough to get around, really--to order at restaurants and things. And I guess you pick up the local sayings, too. But that's about it."

"You can recite your grocery list to me for all I care," countered Neville, and Charlie laughed.

"Maybe another time; I don't buy many groceries anyhow, I told you that." He pulled out some money and waved Neville off. "No, I'll pay. If you insist on splitting expenses we can settle up before you leave."

"Mm." Neville watched, bemused, as Charlie counted out the paper bills. Charlie's hands were square and competent-looking and Neville wanted them touching him again right then. He was glad to go back out into the cool evening and snuggle against Charlie as they flew home.

"I'd say that we should have you try flying alone, but I think I like this too much," Charlie said, swooping the broom down to a precise landing next to the door to his quarters.

Neville yawned, unable to repress it, and blinked sleepily. "Don't know why I'm so tired; it's not that late."

"I wore you out too, after all." Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry about it. We have six weeks...and the things I have planned will be more fun if we're both well-rested."

A prickle of curiosity went through Neville at Charlie's repeated oblique reference to what he wanted to do with Neville. Not teach him to fly, thank goodness, and Neville wasn't seriously concerned that Charlie would push him to do anything that would be too demanding, but what could Charlie have in mind? Perhaps he'd be more forthcoming tomorrow.

It was pleasant to curl up against Charlie's warm bulky body, and they both fell asleep quickly.

As late morning sunshine slanted across his face, Neville blinked awake and smiled when he realised where he was and who was sleeping next to him, snoring a little. He rolled over. Charlie threw an arm across him, and Neville curled into the embrace, kissing Charlie's neck.

"Morning," he mumbled, and Charlie groaned a little--he always had been horribly ungracious upon waking. Neville searched for the ticklish spot on Charlie's ribs and poked it a bit, then watched as a slow smile spread across Charlie's face.

"All right," Charlie grumbled, "I'm awake, I'm awake!"

"You haven't opened your eyes," Neville pointed out, poking Charlie again. A larger hand closed over Neville's, crushing it just a little. Charlie opened his eyes slowly and rubbed at them with his free hand.

The lovers regarded each other for a long moment, then Neville grinned and pressed forward and gave a chaste kiss to Charlie's lips. Charlie let Neville's hand go and kissed Neville back, opening his mouth, but Neville pulled away.

"Sorry--morning breath--" he said, and Charlie smiled.

"I don't mind. You know that. Anyway, it's not as bad as you think."

Neville shrugged and smiled. "Maybe it's yours I'm talking about."

"Oi! I'll have you know that my breath smells of roses at all times!" Charlie protested.

"Then maybe we should get up so I can brush my teeth," replied Neville, moving his hand down Charlie's abdomen to his morning erection, "and then we can see if we can do something about this."

Charlie rolled his hips against Neville's fingers for a moment before swinging his legs around and standing up. "That's an offer worth getting up for."

"I thought it might be," said Neville a bit smugly. The unfamiliar spices from last night's dinner had resurfaced in his mouth and he did want to clean his teeth before anything else. As he was bending over the basin to spit out his mouthful of toothpaste, Charlie pinched his arse through his pyjama bottoms.

"Ready yet?" Charlie's prick made a substantial bulge in his own pyjamas.

"Just a minute." Neville turned to open the toilet and relieve his bladder. He was aware of Charlie watching him as he tried to relax enough to urinate with a half-hard cock. Neville might not have bothered but he didn't want to be uncomfortable if their lovemaking this morning was extended, as he rather hoped it might be. Noon would be soon enough to go meet the dragon Healers and start discussing herbs.

"No, wait."

To Neville's shock, Charlie reached out and put a hand over Neville's. "I wasn't going to suggest this so soon, but... no point in wasting the opportunity."

"Opportunity? For what?"

"For you to piss on me."

Neville whirled, searching Charlie's face to see if this was some sort of peculiar joke, but Charlie looked completely serious. "What?"

Charlie nodded and drew Neville to him. "You heard me right, Neville."

Withdrawing from Charlie's claiming hand, Neville asked, "Why--why would you want me to do that?"

Charlie grinned, then immediately arranged his expression into a more sober one. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do, but--"

"Good. Then keep trusting me. If it turns out you don't like it, then we can stop. I promise. But, Neville, I've been wanting to do this with you for so long." Charlie pulled Neville close again and ground his erection against Neville's hip, speaking in a low growl. "Feel that? That's from just the idea of you pissing on me."

ddcollab2

Neville bit his lip and closed his eyes in the embrace as the sibilant sounds of a word he had never before used in an erotic context penetrated his consciousness. He could see it--sort of--it was intimate, somehow, more so than kissing or fucking or sucking could ever be. It indicated a level of acceptance--a level of trust--beyond anything he'd imagined.

But--still--it was piss.

Neville shivered a little and buried his face in Charlie's chest, not wanting to look his lover in the eye.

"Neville?" Charlie stroked a hand through Neville's hair and took his face in his hands, raising it up so their gazes met.

"I--I trust you--" Neville managed.

"But it's dirty?" asked Charlie, "A bit weird?"

Neville smiled a little at this. "I've never minded getting dirty," he said, "You know that."

"It won't be you getting dirty anyhow," said Charlie, low and coaxing. "I want you to do it to me. Unless, some other time perhaps, you wanted to try it."

"I don't think so." The words were out of Neville's mouth before he could stop them. "That is, I don't want you to piss," he swallowed, "on me."

"Will you do it for me, though?" Charlie's voice was almost pleading, a tone Neville was unused to from him.

Biting his lip, Neville said, "You really want this."

"Yes. I really do." Charlie stroked his thumb along Neville's lip, and Neville let his mouth open, sucking at it. "If you'd feel better about it, we could be in the shower...although a good cleaning spell takes care of any mess, afterward. But if it would make you more comfortable, if you'd be willing...?"

"All right," said Neville at last. Charlie grinned enormously.

"Thank you. I promise, if you hate it, I'll never ask again. I didn't think I would like it myself the first time, but I changed my mind."

"I don't think I want to know how you learned about this," Neville muttered, still more than a little appalled that he'd agreed. "Or with whom."

"It doesn't matter." Charlie was undressing, now, and his cock was as hard and thick and eager as Neville had ever seen it. He tugged at Neville's pyjamas. "Come on, Nev."

Neville undressed, then, too, shucking his pyjamas with rather enthusiasm than Charlie had. Charlie was already running the shower by the time Neville was naked, ducking his head under the water and slicking his hair from his face. He wiped the water from his eyes and reached out to Neville.

"Come on in, before we get water all over the floor," he said, and Neville grasped his hand and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind him. He wet his hair as Charlie had done, pushing it off his face, warming himself in the steam and spray.

Charlie watched him, standing against one wall of the large shower enclosure, then reached out a hand and drew it down Neville's chest, stopping when he reached the jut of bone that angled downwards towards Neville's cock.

"All this rushing water," he murmured, "It's enough to make a bloke have to have a piss."

"Right," replied Neville, and he felt heat beginning to rise in his cheeks even as the pressure in his bladder increased at the mere mention of the word. He took a step closer to Charlie, cupping himself in one hand. "I'm not sure, um," he began, but Charlie tugged at the hand that covered Neville's cock.

"Come closer," Charlie urged, and he tipped back his head a little, leaning against the shower wall, staring down at Neville. He stroked himself, his hips canting forward, his straining erection an angry red.

Neville stepped closer, out of the shower spray, then closer still, until he was pressed against Charlie.

"Where, um," he began, "Where should I--?"

"Mmm," Charlie replied, "On my cock, Neville. Piss all over it--want to feel you--" Charlie breathed deeply and put the hand he wasn't fucking on Neville's shoulder, then uttered a word he rarely said during their lovemaking.

"Please."

Throat dry, Neville nodded. Perhaps if he didn't think about it...

He sighed out a breath as he let go, the hot stream stuttering from the tip of his cock, fountaining onto Charlie's.

"Ohgod, fuck," Charlie said with a groan, his hand moving even faster, rubbing the golden liquid into his skin. "Nev--"

His eyes fell closed as Neville kept pissing, doing his best to keep it slow, to make it last as long as he could for Charlie's pleasure. He didn't feel the revulsion he had expected. He couldn't, not seeing how much Charlie liked this, and a small part of his mind wondered what it would feel like to have Charlie reciprocate, though he had denied the possibility that he would ever want to try that.

Charlie was choking out Neville's name in little grunts, pulling him closer so that their two cocks were touching, the piss running from Neville's directly onto Charlie's. Neville watched the flush of red cover Charlie's chest and neck and face as it always did when Charlie was about to come, and then Charlie did, pale streaks spurting through his fingers and falling onto both of their stomachs.

"Wash it away." Charlie's voice was hoarse. With an effort Neville pushed out a final brief stream that ran down Charlie's skin, carrying away part of the semen there.

Looking up, Neville saw that Charlie was gazing back at him again, his expression blissful. He smiled tentatively, and Charlie kissed him with a mouth that tasted of mint and satisfaction.

"You were all right with it?"

"Mm hm." Neville kissed Charlie again. Now that his bladder was empty, his cock was hardening rapidly, and he nudged it against Charlie's hand.

"Maybe a little more than all right," Charlie murmured, taking Neville's cock in hand and staggering a bit as he pushed away from the wall.

"Maybe," Neville moaned, and he smiled as Charlie sank to his knees.

"Can't stand up," Charlie explained, "Not after that, not after you--mmm, Nev, let me taste you--"

And with that, Charlie took Neville's cock in his talented mouth. Neville choked a little as his cock hardened the rest of the way, and he grabbed two fistfuls of Charlie's damp hair, tightening his fingers at the scrape of a tooth, thrusting forward when Charlie pulled away, whining as Charlie dropped teasing kisses all down the shaft of his cock.

"Charlie, please--" Neville managed through gritted teeth, "Please--it's not nice to tease--"

Charlie chuckled and trailed his fingers lightly down Neville's shaft.

"I did what you wanted," Neville whined, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, "I--um--"

An odd sort of shiver went through him.

"So you did," murmured Charlie, and Neville choked and jerked his hips forward, tipping his head back into the shower spray, as Charlie's mouth engulfed his cock yet again and sucked. Hard. His hands made their way between Neville's arsecheeks and a finger probed at Neville's hole, but before it could find its way inside, Neville cried out and came down Charlie's throat, babbling, holding onto Charlie's hair as if it were the only thing anchoring him to earth.

As Neville's orgasm subsided, he sank onto the shower floor, into Charlie's arms. Neither man spoke for a moment, and then Charlie laughed.

"Strong grip you've got," he said, gingerly rubbing his hand over his head.

"Sorry," Neville apologized, although he was fairly certain that Charlie didn't really mind.

"No worries." Charlie tightened his hold; Neville could feel their two heartbeats pounding out an irregular rhythm. The water from the showerhead splashed across their legs, small droplets bouncing up so that Neville had to keep blinking to clear his vision. "We should wash up and take you off to meet everyone, or at least the two who do most of the more complex healing work on the dragons. All of us do a bit, when necessary, but Alexei and Pietro are the ones who have real training."

"Okay." But they stayed curled up together, heedless of the cold tile under their bums, for several more minutes before either of them moved. Neville wanted to ask something about the pissing, but he couldn't decide what exactly it was he needed to say. Obviously Charlie had enjoyed it...and yet it still didn't entirely make sense to Neville. How could something that was so dirty be arousing--even if a running shower or a cleaning charm meant that it wasn't quite as filthy as he'd have expected? Fragments of thoughts about taboo and trust and the thrill of the forbidden raced through Neville's mind, but for now he let it lie.

Alexei was a stern-looking huge blond, somewhat older than Charlie, while Pietro was slim and dark and voluble, chattering away to Neville within moments as if they'd known each other for ages. The two apparently worked together well, however; Charlie had mentioned while they were walking over to the surgery that they'd been a couple personally as well as professionally for several years.

"Not everyone at the preserve is queer, mind you, but the percentage is high. A lot of us chose this as a way to leave a too-observant family; and, well, while there are a few women who want to work with dragons, there aren't many, and some of them are queer too. So if a fellow's at all that way inclined, he's likely to end up with another bloke," Charlie explained.

"Uh huh," Neville replied absently, doing his best to ignore the little twinge in his chest. Though he was well aware that Charlie had had other lovers during the times they'd been apart, and, intellectually, was all right with it, something inside him still wasn't fully comfortable with Charlie's casual talk about couples and queerness and a lot of us.

But he suppressed the odd pang and shook hands all around, trying hard to memorise the names of all of Charlie's coworkers, laughing at Pietro's jokes, and trying not to wonder if any of the blokes at the surgery had been with Charlie, had maybe taught him...things.

The afternoon passed quickly, once Neville was able to throw himself into his work, becoming engrossed in a poultice of lovage and wormwood and paraffin for an angry rash that had begun to appear on the tails of the Norwegian Ridgebacks. He didn't realise how much time had passed until strong arms went around him from behind and teeth nipped at his ear.

"Dinner time," Charlie murmured, giving Neville a squeeze, "Unless you'd rather stay here and play with your modelling clay."

Neville did his best to look indignant, but he couldn't help a smile. Charlie had been on a flying tour of the preserve, checking wards and boundaries, and his cheeks were ruddy, his hair wild, and he smelled of leaves and smoke and fresh air.

"If you're to be my date, I don't think I can say no," Neville replied. He packed up his poultice, sealing it in a clay pot, and tucked his herbs and seeds and plant cuttings back into their individual containers.

"Charlie Weasley, at your service," Charlie replied, offering his arm, and Neville laughed, and the two of them set out towards the canteen together.

"It'll be interesting to see what dragon keepers live on," Neville remarked.

"Oh, it's not so interesting as all that," Charlie replied, "But it's not bad. And afterwards, I know a place where we can go."

Neville cocked his head at Charlie as they entered the bustling canteen. "Your rooms?"

Charlie laughed. "Exactly. Or the sauna, if you're interested in a little sweaty relaxation."

Although Neville had enjoyed the Romanian food they'd eaten the previous night, he was relieved to see more familiar items offered in the canteen. He chose a large serving of shepherd's pie and some sprouts, following Charlie with his tray to a table for two.

"If we sat where there were spare chairs, we'd have company." Charlie grinned. "Everyone who didn't meet you already would be jostling for a seat. Well, not everyone, but quite a few are keen to meet the bloke I've been raving about for weeks."

Heat rushed up in Neville's cheeks. He wondered just what Charlie had been saying about him, and worried that he wouldn't live up to it. It was somewhat reassuring to see Pietro wave at them from another table, though, and eating made Neville relax a little.

"So talk to me about that concoction you were making," said Charlie.

"It's mostly lovage, which is antiseptic, with some wormwood to help prevent any insects from laying eggs in the raw flesh. The paraffin just carries the herbs and helps seal the skin a bit," Neville said, and took another bite of potato. "A fairly basic remedy. Both of those plants grow wild locally, although cultivated varieties produce more predictable results." He shrugged. "They aren't even magical--Muggles have done quite a lot of work investigating herbs and their non-magical uses, and I've read up on some of their studies."

"So it doesn't matter what animal you're treating, it'll work the same on a magical beast as well as an ordinary one?"

"That's the idea."

Nodding, Charlie scraped his fork over his plate to pick up the last crumbs. "Want me to bring you a slice of cake or something? They usually have jam roll and one or two other things."

"Whatever you have will be fine," Neville said.

Charlie was only gone for a moment or two, but to Neville it was a small eternity. He had managed to shred most of his napkin by the time a body plopped into the seat across from him.

"Glad you're b--" Neville began, but, looking up, he saw that it was Pietro, not Charlie, who had filled the empty seat.

"Oh. Hi," Neville said, and Pietro smiled. "Um, what's up?"

Pietro tipped his head to the side. "Charlie has been talking about you for a very long time now. I am glad to have met you, finally."

Neville scraped his fork along his plate, though he knew there was nothing left on it. "Thanks."

Pietro nodded.

"Glad to have met you, too," Neville added hastily, and the dark man nodded again.

"Charlie and I are great friends," Pietro went on in his heavily accented voice, and he leaned forward, still smiling, but his eyebrows indicated that he had something less than pleasant to impart. "I do hope--"

"What's all this?" came Charlie's laughing voice, "Chatting up the man I've brought here all the way from England for my own personal use, are we?" Pietro's head jerked up at Charlie's first words, and an easy smile spread across his face.

"Not at all," he said gallantly, rising and gesturing for Charlie to reclaim his seat. "I was only saying hello again." Pietro gave a little wave at the two of them as he walked back to his table.

"What was that all about?" Charlie queried, passing Neville a plate of chocolate gateau.

Neville smiled and waved back at Pietro. "I think I might've been about to get the 'If you hurt my friend I'll kill you' speech. I'm not one hundred per cent certain, but that's my guess. He's a friendly enough bloke."

"Mmm," Charlie responded, taking a forkful of his own dessert, "That is likely the speech you were about to get. Never mind he knows perfectly well how long we've been together. I guess, well, this was the first chance he got--bloody loyal to his friends, that one."

"I didn't mind. But you know that I wouldn't hurt you, not on purpose, and that's what really matters."

Charlie choked on his mouthful. "Well..."

"What, don't you believe me?" Neville was appalled. "After fifteen years, you think I'd leave you?"

"No, no," said Charlie hastily. "I know you wouldn't. Nor would I leave you."

"Then what is it?"

"Later. When there aren't all these people about." The flush had faded from Charlie's face and he ate another bite. "Look, why don't you tell me if you know of any local plants--magical or Muggle--that might be good vermifuges? One of the Hungarian Horntails has been off-colour lately and I think she might have worms."

"Okay," Neville said, a little surprised by the way Charlie was changing the subject. "Wormwood is one, actually, as you might guess from the name, and tansy also. You'd want to make a tea out of either one, but I suppose it might be difficult to get the dragon to drink it. They're both quite bitter."

"Hmm, yes, that would be a problem. Anything else?"

Neville pondered. "Those are what come to mind if you want local plants. Cloves can be used as a vermifuge, though. A tea of cloves would probably taste better, especially sweetened, than wormwood or tansy; it might work."

"We probably don't have a big supply on hand, but cloves wouldn't be hard to come by. Excellent. I can try the tansy or wormwood first, and if she won't take those, then cloves could be an alternative choice." Charlie ran one hand over his head, the short hair flopping back into place. "Thanks, Nev."

"Of course." Neville shrugged. "That's what I came here for...well, part of it." He set his now-empty cake plate on top of his dinner plate, aligning his used utensils in the centre. "Do we take these somewhere?"

"Yes, I'll show you. I'm finished too."

When they had cleared their places and were on their way back across the grounds to Charlie's rooms, Neville cocked his head, looking up at Charlie.

"What was all that about hurting and leaving, back at dinner?"

"Oh," Charlie replied, and he paused.

"You said you'd tell me later, when there weren't so many people around." They were alone on the dark grounds, and Charlie put a hand on Neville's shoulder.

"So I did. Ah, it's a bit like the pissing thing, actually." Neville shivered, though he wasn't certain if it was from Charlie's mention of the obscene acts they'd performed in the shower that morning, or from the gust of cold Romanian night air that swept up just then.

"You mean--a sex thing."

"Right." They had reached the door to Charlie's quarters, and he held it open for Neville. They stepped inside and Charlie closed and locked the door behind them.

Neville had, of course, heard of people who liked to be hurt during sex. It had never appealed to him personally, but he didn't think there was anything necessarily wrong with it. He did enjoy the occasional bite from Charlie, and he always liked to study the purpled bruises and toothmarks the next morning in the mirror before healing them with his wand, but that was the extent of enjoyable pain during sex as far as Neville was concerned.

He shook his head. "I can't hurt you, Charlie. No way." He stepped closer, putting his arms around Charlie's waist. "I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" Charlie's hands were warm on Neville's back, rubbing along his spine. He moved his hips so that Neville could feel the bulge of his cock.

"Don't want to," said Neville, letting his own hands drop to Charlie's bum, kneading the still-firm muscles. "I just...no."

He tipped his head so that their lips met, tongues exploring familiar territory that was yet always new, putting off further speech for the moment as he let the thought sink into his mind. Charlie wanted Neville to hurt him. How could he? That was even more disturbing than the pissing had been--Neville was not quite willing to admit that he had found the latter a little bit erotic, after all, but if he ignored the filthiness of it, he could at least think of it as sensual, like, well, like the hot water of a shower. Pain, though, serious pain for its own sake? He couldn't stand to hurt Charlie like that.

Charlie was manoeuvring them back to the bedroom, pulling Neville down to sit beside him on the bed and looking at him seriously.

"It's not about the pain. Well, only partly. It's about trust--that your partner will help you experience something that is extraordinary. But if you would feel wrong or ashamed to do it..."

"I can't. Hurting you wouldn't make me feel anything but, well, degraded." Neville whispered the last word. He didn't want Charlie to think that Neville condemned him for wanting something that he enjoyed, but he just couldn't beat Charlie, or whip him, or whatever it was Charlie had in mind.

"Okay." Charlie closed his eyes for a moment. "If that's how you feel, I'd be a right wally to push you. It's not something that works unless both people want to."

"What is it you like about being hurt?" Maybe if Charlie explained more, if Neville understood, he'd be able to at least try.

"Well...there's a satisfaction in being able to take the pain, first of all. It's a challenge, you understand? And knowing that your partner is excited by doing it--so if you're not, then that wouldn't happen. The actual sensation can be arousing too. You've seen that, Nev, when we've been rough, you've seen that I like it a lot." Charlie pulled his shirt off, revealing his ginger-furred chest with the scars that came from a half a lifetime around wild dragons. "There's just a rush from the whole experience. I can't really explain any better than that."

Neville traced along Charlie's sternum. "What exactly were you wanting me to do, if I agreed?"

"I don't own a whip." Charlie flushed. "Um. When I've gone that far it's always been with someone who had his own equipment. But I do have a paddle."

"A--paddle." The word was foreign in this context, and Neville ducked his head, tearing his gaze from Charlie's with the pretence of scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah," replied Charlie, "A paddle. Like for spanking."

And there was another word that shouldn't have been erotic. But to Charlie, it clearly was. He ran his hand up along Neville's thigh, then down again.

"Neville?"

"I--right." Neville looked up again, suddenly aware he'd been staring at his shoes for too long.

"Do you think that's something you might be willing to try? It's not much different than using the flat of your hand--which is also okay, if you'd rather. Not that we have to do any of this, but--"

"Okay," Neville said hastily, cutting Charlie off. If he'd been able to piss on Charlie in the shower, surely he could administer a few whacks to Charlie's behind, even if the very thought of it made the colour rise in his cheeks.

"Yeah?" Charlie grinned over at Neville as if he couldn't help himself.

"Yeah," Neville replied, trying to match Charlie's enthusiasm. "Yes," he said, a little more convincingly, and he smiled.

It wasn't as if he was lying--it was like the pissing thing all over again. He did want to do it--at least a part of him did. The part of him that loved Charlie.

And that was a fairly big part of him.

Neville stood up, stepped away from Charlie, and toed off his shoes.

"So. How do we begin?"

Charlie rose too and went over to the chest of drawers, rummaging in the lowest drawer and pulling out the paddle. He showed it to Neville.

"You needn't strike hard, if you don't want. Repetition builds up the sensation even with quite soft blows." Charlie ran his fingers lovingly over the leather that wrapped the wide part of the wood. "I like to be spanked on my bum, mostly, maybe a little on my thighs. It's best to do it on places where there's plenty of fatty tissue, to cushion things."

That made sense, and Neville nodded. "Where? I mean, do you want to stand up, or what?"

"Whatever's most comfortable for you is okay, but I'd like to be across your lap." Charlie grinned. "Your naked lap."

"Oh. Yes." Neville blushed a little. Charlie put the paddle down on the bed and reached for Neville, undoing the fastenings of his trousers.

"You're amazing, Nev. I'm not good at talking about how I feel, you know that, but there's no one--no one--that I want to be with more than you. Trying out things with other blokes is just because we can't be together all the time. You understand that, right?"

"I do." Neville let Charlie finish undressing him. "I can't say I'm always happy about you being with other men, but...if you need that, then I can live with it. Just like I'll try this." He shook his head. "Okay. Now what?"

Charlie was already erect. "Sit on the bed--maybe against the headboard, if you want to lean back--and I'll lie over your legs."

Having Charlie's cock nudging against his thigh made Neville start to harden in response. He rubbed the leather of the paddle over the swell of Charlie's arse. "Here?"

"Yeah. Whenever you're ready." Charlie turned his head awkwardly to look up at Neville and licked his lips.

For a moment more, Neville just kept rubbing gently, using his left hand to trace from freckle to freckle on Charlie's back. He swallowed hard, then raised the paddle and brought it down with a soft thwack. "Like that?"

Charlie gasped when the paddle hit his skin, and he choked a little when he tried to speak.

"Yes. God, Neville. Exactly like that. Please--more." And he ducked his head as if to brace for the next blow.

Neville's erection flagged a bit, and he bit his lip and traced a finger down Charlie's spine, following the ridge of it until he reached the rosy bloom on Charlie's backside. He smoothed his hand over the blush, then onto Charlie's back again, took a deep breath, and brought the paddle down once more. Charlie jerked his head back and sucked in a breath.

"Yes. Oh, Neville, you're doing so well."

Neville blushed a little at the praise and ran the leather-wrapped paddle over Charlie's arsecheeks, then administered two light blows, first on the left, then on the right. Charlie gasped again, pushing his erection against Neville's thigh, and Neville smiled. He could do this. Charlie's gasping and arching and the praise that issued from his lips struck a balance that Neville appreciated.

He brought the paddle down again, again, keeping the blows light, travelling over Charlie's arse and thighs until Charlie was whimpering and whispering "Yes... yes..." and leaving a sticky trail of precome all along Neville's thigh. The blush that had adorned Charlie's backside was now a full-on crimson glow, pink around the edges, and warm to the touch, as Neville discovered when he ran his left hand over the abused skin.

He squeezed Charlie's buttock, then gave it an experimental slap. Skin on skin made an entirely different sound than the paddle had, and Neville caressed Charlie's arse, then cast the paddle aside and went to work, raining down light blows with his right palm while the fingers of his left hand travelled up Charlie's back to tangle in Charlie's hair.

Neville's hand began to smart, and he contemplated stopping, but then a shiver went through him, and he had a revelation.

The stinging in his hand felt almost good. He was taking back a bit of the pain he had administered, and it was just enough. Not that his palm was an erogenous zone, but he could almost begin to see why Charlie liked this.

Neville smiled as he felt his cock harden again. He'd paused, and Charlie moaned and rutted against him. "Shall I keep going?" Neville asked.

"God yes." Charlie shuddered. "'S wonderful."

As he continued the spanking the sting in Neville's palm grew warmer, matched by the pulsing warmth of his cock. The head of it bumped against Charlie's belly; each stroke that Neville gave to Charlie's bum was a separate little jostling against the sensitive flesh. Neville's own breath was coming more raggedly now, and Charlie was panting loudly, clearly close to coming.

"I want to fuck you," Neville whispered in Charlie's ear, even as he smacked him again. This time he left his hand on Charlie's arse, probing between the reddened cheeks to find the tight pucker.

ddcollab1

Charlie nodded frantically. "Take me from behind," he rasped. "Accio lube."

The tube of gel flew from the top of the chest and smacked into Charlie's hand, and Neville reached to take it from him. Charlie scrambled off of Neville's lap and grabbed at the pillows, shoving them under his hips and spreading his knees apart so that Neville could position himself. He applied a generous dollop of lube and started to stretch Charlie out--last night Charlie had topped--but Charlie stopped him.

"Don't bother. Just fuck me."

Even with Charlie's urging, Neville made sure that he entered slowly to begin with, giving Charlie time to adjust to the intrusion; Charlie might want it rough, but Neville had no intention of wasting any of their limited time together waiting for Charlie to heal because Neville had injured him, even inadvertently. Healing charms helped, but better not to need them.

Being inside Charlie was always wonderful--the physical pleasure of it, hot slick tightness around Neville's prick, but even more the emotional closeness that the physical intimacy mirrored. Neville's groan was matched by one from Charlie's throat, and Neville scrabbled to find purchase for his hands on Charlie's sweat-slicked back.

"God, Neville," Charlie panted, "Love you inside me--not gonna last--"

Neville nodded and sped his hips, his hands slipping on sweaty flushed and freckled skin, his balls slapping against Charlie, and he leaned over Charlie's back as he felt his own climax approaching, wrapping his arms around the man he loved even as Charlie groaned and weakened, his arms crumpling beneath him. Charlie jerked his hips erratically and let out a whine, coming all over the rumpled sheets.

"Fuck," Charlie groaned into the pillow, and Neville screwed up his face and thrust forward, harder, harder, until he came, pulsing, inside Charlie's arse, gasping Charlie's name. As the waves of orgasm subsided, Charlie contracted his arse around Neville's cock, milking the last traces of come from him. Neville's breath caught in his throat and he kissed Charlie between his sweaty shoulder blades as he collapsed on top of him and started to pull out.

"Stay," murmured Charlie, his face still buried in the pillow, and Neville did, for a moment. Charlie loved to keep Neville inside him for as long as possible after sex, and he clenched at Neville's softening cock. Neville shivered.

"Can't," he murmured, "God--just--too much." Charlie sucked in a breath as Neville slipped out of his arse, then he rolled onto his side and took his lover in his arms.

"How's your arse?" Neville asked, with a smile that almost dared to be a smirk.

"Never better," grinned Charlie, "Perfectly happy to be smacked until it glows and then filled with your come." His eyes flashed and his grin turned positively wicked, and if Neville had not been basking in delicious afterglow, he would have blushed.

As it was, he merely turned over so Charlie could spoon against his back, and yawned.

"Shall we clean up?" he murmured.

"In a minute," replied Charlie, "I just want to do this for now."

That was perfectly fine with Neville. He slept alone at Hogwarts most of the year, and there were advantages to that--no one to steal the bedcovers, or to put cold feet on him, or to snore with a head cold. On the other hand, he liked being able to curl up with Charlie, hear his lover's breathing, let Charlie's arms hold him close.

Mulling over the good and bad points of their frequent separation, Neville drifted off.

The next few days were busy ones; by the end of the week Neville decided he must have met everyone on the preserve, and he'd lost track of some of the names. Alexei proved to be far less stern than his appearance suggested. Once he'd grown used to Neville's presence, he started telling dirty jokes, making Neville snicker and blush, especially on the rare times Charlie was there.

Charlie spent most of his time out in the pens or on the range, but he managed to drop in to the surgery at least once or twice each day, if only to claim Neville for meals. After the first day or two, they often shared a table with several others. Alexei and Pietro, most often, but sometimes some of Charlie's other friends. Euan had formerly worked with the dragons himself, but since an accident that had cost him his left leg, he had done the bookkeeping for the preserve. Magda was a wiry brunette with a scar across her cheek, who had a wicked sense of humour and liked to tease Pietro, much to the latter's irritation.

"You're all such good comrades," Neville remarked to Charlie one evening when they'd gone back to his rooms. "You have such a good time together. It's a far cry from my usual summers at Hogwarts, working alone in the greenhouses with most of the other staff off on holiday somewhere."

Charlie was shucking off his sweaty leathers, preparing to take a shower, and Neville admired his muscular frame as he stretched, joints popping. "Well...don't think it's always jokes and that. During mating season for the dragons we're all up at all hours, and with everyone short on sleep, the sniping and bitching can be tremendous. But on the whole, yeah, we're a good bunch." Charlie finished undressing, leaving his things in a heap on the bathroom floor, and stepped into the shower.

Neville leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, staring at the tiled pattern on the floor and mulling over something that Euan, who had all the inside information about the running of the preserve because of the prime location of his office, had said at lunch that day.

"Shit," came Charlie's voice from the shower, interrupting Neville's reverie. He lifted his eyes and took in the steam billowing out into the bathroom.

"What's wrong?"

"I--nothing. Just got torn up a bit worse than I thought today when that Opaleye tossed me from my broom. I'm fine."

But Neville was already undressing by the time Charlie had finished his sentence, and he stepped into the shower.

"Let me see."

Charlie turned and Neville tried not to let his eyes go too wide at the sight of the three bright red lines across Charlie's abdomen, the tender scabs looking as if they might break open at any moment.

"I've had worse, Nev. Much worse. I'll be all right," Charlie said, and Neville believed him on both counts, but something still wasn't quite right.

"Listen," Neville began, pressing his palm just to the right of the ugly wounds, "I don't want to have to worry about things like this."

Charlie furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean--I mean you, here, with a bunch of dragons and a bunch of--of blokes, and without me. Not that--I mean--I know you've been doing this for almost three decades, Charlie, but I don't want you to do it anymore--"

"What?"

"--Alone."

"Oh. I--oh." Charlie paused and put his arms around Neville. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Neville wiped the water from his eyes and embraced Charlie, mindful of the fresh wounds. "At lunch today--you were talking to Magda, I think--Euan mentioned something about how the administrative staff apparently likes me. And how they think I might, ah, make a good addition to the staff." Neville paused, not daring to breathe. "That is...full time."

Charlie stared down at Neville. "What--what about Hogwarts?"

Neville hadn't actually thought that far ahead, but a solution suddenly clicked. "I--there's a boy--oh, not a boy anymore--you know him. Harry and Ginny's son, your nephew James. He'll make a brilliant Herbology professor."

"Is James that old already?" said Charlie blankly.

"He took his N.E.W.T.s two years ago, and got an Outstanding, no surprise. He's been working at St. Mungo's." Neville traced the angry red lines on Charlie's skin. "But I'd rather that I came here, and he went to Hogwarts. He can cope with teaching his sister Lily, I'm certain."

"I didn't think you'd ever want to stop teaching Herbology." Charlie touched Neville's face, pushing dripping hair out of his eyes. "I thought you loved it."

"I do. But I love you more." Neville gave him a tremulous smile. "And I'd still be teaching here, a bit, explaining to you dragon-wrestler types what you can use to treat both the beasts and yourselves."

"Especially us older dragon-wrestler types," said Charlie with a sigh. "Ten years ago she'd not have caught me that way."

"You're not old," Neville protested. He let his fingers drift downward to cup Charlie's cock and felt it start to harden. "Not here, anyway."

Charlie hummed a snatch of a tune that Neville vaguely recognized but couldn't place--a Muggle song, he thought. "Fair enough. Look, I think you shouldn't make a decision tonight. You've almost five more weeks here anyhow; plenty of time to consider, learn more about what you'd be doing, before settling anything."

"I'm going to write the Headmistress and tell her that I'm thinking of leaving, though," Neville said firmly. "That's only polite. And I'll suggest that she talk to James. I wouldn't feel right about suddenly resigning in early August and leaving her with no one to take on my classes."

"Whatever you think is best." Charlie leaned his forehead against Neville's. "Merlin. I never expected this."

"You're all right with the idea, though?" Suddenly Neville was anxious. They'd both been used to their arrangement, and Charlie had enjoyed the opportunity to sometimes be with other people, and not Neville exclusively. If they were living together here...would Charlie feel that he couldn't do that? Would Neville want him to?

Neville's inner worrier was cut off by a swift kiss from Charlie.

"More than all right," Charlie replied against Neville's lips.

"Really?"

"Oh, my god, Neville. Of course. What are you thinking, that I'm going to miss shagging a random bloke of a Saturday night when we've each had two drinks too many and we both miss the people we really care for?"

"Well, I--"

Charlie embraced Neville fiercely. "Don't even think it. Not for a moment. It'll take some adjustment, sure it will, but I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor for nothing, you know."

Neville grinned up at Charlie. "No?"

"Fucking right, no. I live for challenges like this," Charlie replied, pressing his forehead to Neville's.

"Ah, so I'm to be a challenge," said Neville, and they both laughed, and a moment of silence followed, punctuated only by the spray of the shower, in which Neville struggled to find something appropriate to say.

It was Charlie who finally broke the silence, with a whispered "Hey", his hand sliding, palm-down, from Neville's shoulder to his thigh. Neville tipped his head up and their mouths met again as Charlie teased along the crease where Neville's groin met his thigh.

"Shouldn't you be careful?" Neville murmured into the kiss, tracing a line parallel to Charlie's fresh wounds.

"Not tonight," Charlie replied, and he pressed forward, and Neville had to step backwards in order not to fall over. In fewer steps than he expected, his back hit the wall, and Charlie didn't stop kissing him.

"So...fucking...sexy," Charlie breathed in between kisses. He pushed closer, then hissed, and Neville was sure it was the injuries paining him, but clearly Charlie wanted to have sex and wasn't going to pay attention to practicality.

Then something occurred to him. He'd thought about it, on and off, for the past week, and now seemed the time to speak. "Charlie."

"Hm?" Charlie's eyes seemed even bluer than usual. "What is it, Nev?"

"I want you," Neville faltered, "I want you to piss on me."

"You do? Why?"

"Because you'll like it...and I think I will too." Truth, if not the entire truth. "Can you, hard like this?"

Charlie chuckled. "For you, I can do anything you want."

"Then do it." The wall was cold against Neville's back, but it was the expression on Charlie's face that made him shiver, anticipating.

With a look of concentration, Charlie took his prick in hand and aimed it at Neville's. Nothing happened. "Bugger. Hang on." Charlie screwed up his face, then said, "Inanio."

Hot urine spilled over Neville's cock. He could smell it, pungent, but familiar and not offensive; the feel of the liquid was no different really than having the water of a shower flowing over him. It was the intimacy, the fact that Charlie found it erotic, that excited Neville--and he was more aroused than he'd expected, his hand slipping down to stroke his cock, heedless of the small voice that said he was filthy for allowing this, for enjoying it.

"Charlie," he gasped, and Charlie gave him a great grin and kept pissing.

"Good, huh?"

"Very." Neville clutched at Charlie's shoulder, quivering, regretting it when the golden stream slowed and stuttered to a halt, his cock aching with the cessation of sensation.

"Not gonna leave you like that," Charlie assured him. To Neville's half-horrified delight, Charlie sank to his knees and took Neville's prick, piss-wet though it was, into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, Charlie," babbled Neville. Charlie's tongue was bathing his length, Charlie's throat was tight around the head of his cock, and Neville's vision went dark as he came, his knees buckling under him.

Charlie was saying something, soft and low, and Neville slumped forward into Charlie's arms, the two of them kneeling on the shower floor.

"So good," he managed, and Charlie chuckled, sliding his hand down Neville's back to cup his arse.

"Goo-ood," he replied, drawing the word out, and he manoeuvred one of Neville's hands to his own hard prick, guiding Neville's fingers along its length. Neville's hand closed automatically around it, and his other hand went to Charlie's tight balls, and Charlie sighed.

It didn't take long before Charlie was clutching hard at Neville's back and spilling out a streak of words that made only the barest amount of sense.

"Neville, yes, want to...want you, fuck...piss on your cock, spank your arse, fuck you till you can't stand up..." Charlie buried his head in the crook of Neville's neck as he came, nipping at Neville's collarbone, coming in great spurts all over Neville's hand and the shower floor. Neville watched as Charlie's semen swirled down the drain with the shower water, dissipating, disappearing.

Charlie staggered to his feet, his softening cock heavy between his legs, and he held out a hand for Neville. Neville took it and allowed himself to be hauled up, and Charlie took him into his arms.

"I think I could get used to this," Charlie murmured, and Neville nodded against Charlie's chest. He was still somewhat dazed from his own orgasm and from what had proceeded it--the filthiest thing he'd ever done, really, or let someone to do him.

The filthiest thing he'd ever loved.

Neville washed himself quickly, then gave Charlie a quick kiss and got out of the shower.

"Finish up and I'll have a look at those wounds," he said, towelling off, and Charlie gave a noncommittal groan.

"They're fine, really," he insisted, and Neville grinned at himself in the mirror. Yes, he could get used to this, too, living with the stubborn bastard whom he loved more than he could sometimes comprehend.



Authors' note: "Dragostea trece prin stomac" means "Love passes through the stomach."
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