InsaneJournal

Making A List (Neville/Charlie, PG-13)
Title: Making a List (Checking it Twice)
Pairing: Charlie/Neville
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 524 
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine.  JKR's.
Summary: Neville and Charlie are going on holiday, and Neville plans something special.
Notes: Originally written as a teenyfic gift for florahart from coffee_n_cocoa with the prompt "going on holiday".  Originally posted on LJ on 6/22/07.

If Neville wanted to accomplish anything, he had to write it down. Otherwise, he'd forget, guaranteed, and his plant food would go unordered or his dry-cleaning unclaimed, or he'd find himself at the supermarket checkout, a pile of groceries all rung up and no wallet in his pocket.

His tendency to forget things so much did bother him, a little, though he'd grown used to it (mostly). And he knew that if he could remember just one thing—Write Everything Down—he'd be all right.

Which was why, the night before Neville left for his holiday, he sat at his kitchen table, quill in hand, inking a detailed list of everything he needed to take with him.

Neville had never been to Romania before, and, though Charlie assured him he'd love it, Neville was still a bit nervous. He was at least prepared in one respect—Charlie had advised him of the climate and how he'd need to dress.

And so Neville wrote out his list:

Socks, wool, 5 pr.
Trousers, wool, 3 pr.
Jeans, 2 pr.
Jumpers, wool, 3 ea.

When he'd completed his list of clothing and toiletries, Neville paused, quill at his lips, and blushed slightly as he considered the items he intended to bring that were of a more…personal nature.

Neville and Charlie had been planning this holiday for over a month, and Neville had decided—though he hadn't let it slip to Charlie—that sometime during their five days away together, Neville was going to give Charlie what Charlie had been asking for--pushing for—during the course of their year long relationship.

Namely, access to Neville's…

Well, to his…

Er.

Neville ducked his head, his cheeks still pink, and scribbled lubricant at the bottom of the list.

He glanced around the room, as if there was someone there who might chastise him for writing dirty words on his packing list, then turned back to the list and scrawled condoms just below the previous entry.

Neville couldn't suppress the nervous giggle that rose in his throat. He gathered up his quill and parchment and hastened to the bedroom to commence packing. He had to refer to the list several times, of course (well, that was what it was there for), but eventually he had everything—including the, er, lubricant and, erm, the, ah, condoms, which were rolled inside pairs of socks and subsequently stuffed into shoes.

It was going to be a brilliant holiday. Neville bit his lip and stared at his suitcase, trying to convince himself that every moment would be brilliant, including the moment when it was finally time to use the items he'd so carefully secreted away.

And Charlie didn't know, and oh, was he ever going to be surprised!

"All packed, then?"

Neville whirled around, startled out of his reverie by his boyfriend's mirthful voice. Charlie stood in the bedroom doorway, just home from work—he hadn't even taken off his cloak, but had come right in to find Neville.

"Yeah," he said, smiling, "And I remembered everything." 

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