Entry tags:

fic post09

Fantasy # 6 for fall_fantasia
Title: 'Meta' Carpus
Author: unbroken_halo
Recipient: The participants and watchers of fall_fantasia
Pairing: Harry/Charlie, others
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,132
Summary: There's just something about a man's hands.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company belong to JK Rowling. This fiction was written for entertainment only and makes no monetary gain for the author.
Highlight for Warnings: *bi-curiosity, innuendo, men having hawt sex! *
AN: For the participants and watchers of fall_fantasia. This was written taking a couple of things from each person's ad and tossing them in the blender to see what happened. Enjoy!

'Meta' Carpus

There is just something about a man's hands. That is what attracted Harry to his lovers, and it had always been that way ever since Harry could remember. He'd never really considered himself someone that was overly concerned with someone's outward appearance. That's not to say he didn't appreciate the fine figure someone made as they walked across the room, how they sat upon their broom, or even the way they looked dressed in the finest clothing. Or in nothing at all.

But there was just something about a man's hands.

He wasn't certain if it was the way they were shaped; large, square and wide. Most men, anyway, had big hands, and he'd found out that the old adage about the size of a man's hands wasn't always true. And honestly, he'd been rather disappointed.

Being who he was, Harry had seen it all by the time he was twenty-one, from both women, and men. He could even pinpoint when his fascination with that particular piece of anatomy began.

Snape.

Snape's hands had been long and slender, just like the rest of him. His fingers, though stained from toiling over a cauldron and slicing ingredients, were fine. They seemed delicate almost as if his hands had been specialized after the years of such intense labour. When Harry found himself wondering if they were calloused as well, he knew that he was lost.

There were others. Boys in and out of his Gryffindor dorms. Ron's hands are large, ever so much larger than his own and rough. They are hard, strong hands and Harry and Hermione both share a secret grin at the fact that Ron is the one exception to the "Hand" rule.

Malfoy, though, is a completely different story. When Malfoy grasped his hand in the Room of Requirement, Harry filed that memory away for later examination. He still remembers just how soft Malfoy's hands felt that night even though his grip was like iron.

Of course, being the person Harry was, he had to try out the opposite sex as well. He promptly found out that women, while perfectly wonderful confidents, fantastic fashion advisors, and damn good learning partners, weren't always his cup of tea, so to speak. He'd tried several out to be certain, too.

Luna was his first and her hands had been tiny and delicate. Differently delicate than Snape's hands, and while she had wowed him with her oral exploits, Harry rather felt like she was going to break if he shook her too hard.

Hermione, thankfully, turned out to be as a sister to him. She aided him, quite unknowingly, in his discoveries about women's hands. Hermione's were steady and strong, just slight calloused when he laced his fingers with hers as he held her hand and squeezed it when she was ever so nervous while waiting to walk down the aisle to marry Ron.

It was also during this time that Harry discovered that some women were down right confusing. This would be the category where Ginny fit in. Ginny's hands weren't like any other woman's he'd every met before in his life. They were more like a man's hands, yet they weren't.

Ginny's hands were larger than both Luna's and Hermione's. They were also rougher, more calloused, he supposed. Yet, there was an underlying tenderness to Ginny's hands that both Luna's and Hermione's hands had, too. It was what Harry considered an odd set of hands, and he wasn't quite certain what to make of them.

However, his confusion didn't last long when Millicent Bulstrode came out of the woodworks and staked a claim on Ginny Weasley. The soft blush that coloured Ginny's cheeks didn't fool anyone, and Harry was awfully glad to be off the hook.

At Millicent and Ginny's handfasting is when Harry was re-introduced to Charlie.

Charlie grasped Harry's hand and shook it vigorously, and Harry just stared at Charlie, trying to remember how to breathe. The last time he'd seen Charlie had been at Bill's wedding, and he'd only been around for a short while. Harry could count on one hand the times he'd spoken to Charlie.

As Charlie's hand slid into his own, Harry realized it fit neatly within his own. It wasn't too large like Ron's nor was it too soft like Malfoy's. His hand certainly wasn't delicate like Luna's nor was it tender like Ginny's. It was a working gentleman's hand; roughened just enough from labour yet still supple enough to handle the tiniest newborn dragon hatchling.

Harry looked at Charlie and grinned. Charlie winked at him and Harry knew he had found a kindred soul. And Charlie, Harry soon found out, had the greatest set of hands for all kinds of activities.

Harry had found the perfect set of hands, and would never let them go. Charlie seemed content with this arrangement as well, especially since he'd not left Harry's bed since Ginny's handfasting. Harry recalled that night fondly, as they repeated the experience as many times as they could.

Running his tongue over the field of freckles on Charlie's shoulder, Harry looked over Charlie's back and down at his hand clenched in the sheets. His knuckles were white as they held onto the cloth, bunching the fabric between his fingers as Harry's thrusts drove his body forward on the bed.

He reached over Charlie's body and rubbed Charlie's hand. Charlie's fist relaxed just slightly, allowing Harry's fingers to slide between his own then brought both sets of digits to his mouth, sucking just the tips between his lips.

Harry moaned at the picture they made and canted his hips harder, still keeping his eyes on their hands. Charlie withdrew their fingers from his mouth and slid them down his body. Using Harry's hand to grasp his prick, he thrust forward, shoving the generous length through Harry's fist.

Charlie groaned, pushing back into Harry then tugged at Harry's arm. Harry made the adjustment, rolling and pulling Charlie and himself up to their knees. They rocked together, sliding back and forth in a long time created, perfectly and eagerly shared rhythm.

Harry watched Charlie's hands tighten down around the sheets and reached down, once again curling his fist around Charlie's prick. Harder and faster, he thrust into Charlie, waiting for Charlie to come first.

It didn't take long.

Charlie's fingers bunched the fabric into tight mounds as he came. Harry's orgasm followed directly after, the hot pulses of semen coating his own tightening fingers while Charlie's relaxed.

Charlie's breathless whisper just erased the cooling pool beneath them before they collapsed in a satiated jumble of arms and legs. Adjusting their positions on the bed, Charlie sighed and Harry twined their fingers together once more, sighing himself.

There really was something about a man's hands.

~The End~