Authors:lee_west and ceria Rating: NC-17 Summary: Written for the AWDT prompt, "You don't need clothes for this." Kingsley and Gideon go swimming. Disclaimer: We don’t own the boys at all; if we did, their story would have a happy ending. And obviously we aren't rich enough to own lakefront property. Warnings: Chan-ish - but the minor in question isn't innocent at all!
For andrea__88, brilliant icon maker. Thanks for all your contribution to the beauty of G/K.
Kingsley woke with a start. He looked at the alarm clock and saw it was nine o’clock. Normally he would’ve turned over and fallen asleep again, but this Sunday morning he wanted to be up early. He wanted to Floo Gideon and invite him to come to his grandfather’s house.
***
Southwood Shacklebolt had been awake when Kingsley tumbled out of the Floo the night before. Grandfather and grandson had chatted for a little while and Kingsley had casually mentioned that he’d met Gideon Prewett the night before, while he’d been out on a date. It was one of those situations where he hadn’t technically lied, but had twisted the truth a little. He had met Gideon while on a date – with him!
Southwood was an avid Quidditch fan and had been very pleased to learn of his grandson’s friendship with the Arrows’ top Chaser. He mentioned that he’d like to meet the young man one day. Kingsley immediately took the opportunity to ask his grandfather whether he could invite Gideon for lunch and a swim the next day.
The old man had been very enthusiastic, and the two of them decided that Kingsley should Floo Gideon when he woke up.
Bored already with his day off, Gideon finished cleaning his flat and wondered how long until he could wake his brother. Fabian was a notoriously late sleeper, and considering the bird he left with after the game, chances were good that he didn't go to sleep until late.
Only once had Gideon had Apparated to his brother's home the morning after, to walk in on a young woman sleeping in his bed. Unlike Gideon, Fabian didn't mind taking them home; his privacy wasn't offended by visitors. Of course, after last night, Gideon realized that his own views of privacy might have changed.
He could have Floo'ed Meg, but that would have entailed questions he didn't want to answer. He was still angry that she hadn't bothered to inform him - not even a clue! - about the bar.
Gideon decided to join Sanders and Arrice at the pitch. They had an unofficial practice and meeting the day following a game every week. Satisfied with his decision, he was surprised to hear a noise at the Floo. Dreading the thought that it might be Meg, he considered ignoring it - it couldn't be Fabian.
Kingsley dressed quickly in white shorts and a white shirt. He had been spending most of the summer at his grandfather’s house and had a full wardrobe there. Southwood had a special fondness for Kingsley, the only child of his eldest son, and who had been expected for a long time. Maura Shacklebolt had miscarried many times before she finally carried Kingsley to term.
Kingsley’s personality fit his grandfather’s very well, and the two Shacklebolts enjoyed each other’s company immensely.
When Kingsley arrived downstairs, he saw his grandfather finishing his breakfast on the terrace. He quickly greeted the old man and asked him if he could Floo Gideon.
“Sure, son, but why don’t you have breakfast first? He’s probably still asleep. He had a tough match yesterday.”
And a tougher night, grandpa, but he enjoyed it, Kingsley thought, while answering, “I want to make sure he won’t go out, Grandpa. I can have breakfast afterwards.”
“Carry on, then.”
Kingsley rushed to the Floo and put his face inside, while shouting “Gideon’s flat” into the fire.
The male voice calling his name was not his brother. Leaning over he was surprised to see Kingsley. "This is early, I didn't think to hear from you for quite some time," he said, settling onto his knees. "What in the world has you awake this early?"
Kingsley blew Gideon a kiss. “You, what else?”
He could feel heat infuse his face, "Good morning, imp. You're full of yourself. What plans did you have for today?"
Kingsley smirked. “Imp? Me? Tsk, tsk, Mr. Prewett, this is not what you said last night. Last night you called me ‘sexy as hell,’ remember?” He loved to tease Gideon and see the blush on his face. “Anyway, I’m calling to invite you to have lunch with me and my grandpa. He loves Quidditch – although he’s a Puddlemere United fan, sorry – and he wants to meet you. I told him I saw you last night while I was out on a date.”
"That's the truth of it, I agree," raising an eyebrow at the creative truth, Gideon laughed. "You sure you're not a Slytherin?"
He glanced behind him, "My flat is rather clean, I'd hate to mess it up when I can have lunch elsewhere," he teased. "Your grandfather will have plenty to say, I'm sure, Puddlemere beat us severely last season. We've yet to play them this season, three weeks from now if I remember correctly."
He glanced at his broom on the floor next to him; he wasn't expected to go to the informal meeting. “What time is lunch?”
“Noon-ish, but you can come earlier. Come right now; I’m about to have breakfast. Grandpa loves to talk. And we can swim afterwards. Bring a swimsuit – do you have one?”
He thought for a moment; wasn't he just complaining about being bored? "Right now, are you sure?"
He needed to see Fabian, but it was early. It wasn't as if he had set plans for the day. He hadn't realized two weeks ago that telling Kingsley he could see him whenever would end up so often. How dangerous could lunch and swimming be with the grandfather there?
"All right, I'll be there shortly, and yes, I'll bring something to swim in."
“Of course it is. Have you had breakfast yet? I can ask Mrs. Wilcott to make some for you.”
"No, thank you. I ate some time ago. You're probably the only one that thinks breakfast should directly happen before lunch, Kingsley," Gideon teased, "Most of us have been awake for hours already."
Saying goodbye, Gideon closed the Floo. He needed to change his clothes and put away his broom. What exactly did one wear to the Shacklebolts for lunch and swimming? Did he really just think that? – Gideon shook his head.
The one pair of denims he owned were not appropriate. Settling for trousers and a button-down casual shirt, Gideon picked up a pair of swimming shorts and threw them over his shoulder.
He Apparated to the edge of the grounds; his father always had issues with people Apparating in and out of his home, and walked to the door.
Inside the door, a woman with an apron, obviously Mrs. Wilcott, greeted him and ushered him through the house and onto the veranda, where the two Shacklebolts were sitting at a table, Kingsley with a large plate of a full English breakfast in front of him.
He lifted his eyes when he heard the steps and smiled at Gideon. “Hello, Gideon, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, shamelessly checking Gideon out and stressing the word ‘pleasure,’ its double meaning obvious. “Grandpa, this is Gideon Prewett. Gideon, this is my grandfather, Southwood.”
Southwood rose to shake Gideon’s hand and invited him to sit down. “Nice to meet you, Gideon. Kingsley has been singing your praises as the best Chaser around. I bet you were the cause for him turning coat from Puddlemere to the Arrows, right?” he asked with a jovial smile.
"The fact that I can turn anyone from Puddlemere to the Arrows is a fact worth boasting about. They're the best team in Britain, and we're all proud of that.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Mr. Shacklebolt, Kingsley speaks very highly of you. Thank you for the invitation today."
He turned toward Kingsley finally, smiling at him. "Good morning, Kingsley. The pleasure is all mine."
You’ll be much more pleased later on, Mr. Prewett. Kingsley’s broad smile gave no hint of the deviousness of his thoughts. “Do you want something? Coffee, tea or…orange juice, perhaps?”
"A glass of water would be nice, thanks." Smiling at Mr. Shacklebolt, Gideon chose to ignore Kingsley and engage Mr. Shacklebolt in a Quidditch discussion. He was always curious to another's view about several issues, such as the all witch team they lost to the prior day, to whether or not certain broom manufacturers gave the sport an edge.
Sometimes the easiest thing to do was ignore Kingsley, and hope that no one else noticed what Gideon saw as obvious flirtation.
Kingsley turned his attention back to his breakfast, attacking the food with gusto. He was starved and wanted to give Gideon more time to relax with Southwood.
The two men started a lively conversation about Quidditch; Southwood, although never having played professionally, seemed to like it almost as much as Gideon. They exchanged trivia such as old results, team formations and who was the best player of years before Gideon was even born.
Kingsley finished his breakfast, leaned back on his chair, stretched his long legs under the table, shook his summer shoes off and slid one foot up Gideon’s shin, under the hem of his trousers.
Thankful he didn't have a drink in his hand, Gideon covered his startled reaction by adjusting his body in the chair. Glad he chose trousers and not just a robe, or else Kingsley wouldn't have stopped at his ankle, Gideon relaxed. At least he was sitting on the side of the table furthest from Kingsley's grandfather.
Smiling wider, he simply carried on the conversation, still ignoring Kingsley.
Pretending to pay attention to the conversation, Kingsley slid his foot from inside Gideon’s hem, then moved it on top of the trousers, slowly inching it up Gideon’s leg, then onto the inside of his thighs and ending on his crotch, fondling Gideon with his toes.
He adjusted his legs, leaving Kingsley's foot there; somehow it had become a challenge to ignore. Dropping one hand below the table on the pretense of stretching, Gideon rubbed Kingsley's ankle.
He pulled Kingsley's foot closer to himself, rubbing the calf as far up as he could reach without obviously moving. He'd kill him later, he decided, but for now, he was enjoying the attention.
Taking a drink with his other hand, Gideon sucked a large ice cube into his mouth. When Mr. Shacklebolt turned to his grandson to address an issue with him, Gideon discreetly spit the cube into his hand and shifted his body back.
Holding Kingsley's leg with one hand, he pushed the ice cube against the tender instep, tickling him.
Take that, you imp.
Kingsley was enjoying the touch of Gideon’s on his calf. Finally, he was getting some sort of reaction from the ice queen. He was distracted and the sudden coldness against his sole made him start and jump, hitting his knee on the underside of the table, shaking the dishes and cutlery on it.
Glasses fell on their side, and Gideon’s drink spilled onto his lap.
Looking at Gideon and thinking, You wait, Prewett!, Kingsley answered simply. “An insect, Grandpa. Must’ve been a bee. Bit my leg.” He slapped his calf a few times for show. “Sorry about the mess. Are you all right, Gideon?” he asked with an innocent face.
Burying laughter under the pretense of standing quickly, he leaned over to brush excess water off his trousers. Of course, most of it soaked in immediately, and his actions were only a facade to hide his face. Gideon couldn't speak yet; the spilt water was worth every moment of reaction from Kingsley.
"I'm fine, Kingsley, thanks. I guess I should be glad we're going swimming. Care to show me to a room so I can dry these?
“Sure. Would you like a pair of shorts to change into?” He looked at his grandfather. “He’s about Hollings’s built, isn’t he?” He turned to Gideon. “Hollings’s one of my cousins. I’m sure that he left something behind.”
Southwood had just finished helping Mrs. Wilcott Banish the dishes to the kitchen. He looked at Gideon for a second and nodded in agreement. “Yes, about the same size. Gideon, feel free. My grandsons forget to pack about half of their wardrobe when they go home.”
Kingsley motioned for Gideon to follow him. “Come. I’ll show you where you can change.”
He followed Kingsley through the large house. It brought back memories of his youth and traveling with his father. He'd been to other pureblooded homes in the past, but more than not their stately homes left him feeling cold. The Shacklebolts’ was nothing like that; the sense of family and warmth permeated the house.
Of course, those thoughts scattered as he watched Kingsley walk. The white shirt was still buttoned from breakfast, but the denim shorts were nice. Gideon had to admit he enjoyed looking at Kingsley.
He followed Kingsley into a guest room, and after making sure no one was there, closed the door behind them.
"Come here, imp."
He pulled Kingsley against him, tilting his face to look at him, "That was very cruel, Shacklebolt," he said quietly before kissing him. "It's way too early in the morning for those games."
Kingsley was happily surprised with Gideon’s move and wondered if he was a Legilimens. That was exactly what he’d been planning to do. He kissed Gideon eagerly, encircling him with his arms and caressing his back. Hands moved to Gideon’s side, then to the waistband of his trousers, deft fingers starting to unbutton them. He broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “You loved it.”
Stopping the inquisitive fingers, he pulled back from the kiss, "Hey! What are you doing?"
Erm…unbuttoning your trousers so I can pull them off? So I can see you starkers? Touch you, maybe? Get some action? were Kingsley’s mischievous thoughts. He looked at Gideon innocently and answered, “Helping you get out of those wet trousers. Isn’t this the reason we came here? So you can change into my cousin’s bottoms?”
"Every time I see that innocent look, Kingsley, I suspect you more. You know, of course, that I can dry them, but then how would I get you alone for this?" he punctuated the end of the sentence by reaching for the bottom of the shorts. Working one hand inside the loose hem, he reached up with one hand and cupped Kingsley with the other.
"I'm not going to finish anything here, so you better think twice before starting it."
Kingsley closed his eyes as Gideon touched him and let out a soft moan. “What do…you…mean, you…won’t finish?” He felt himself getting hard. As a matter of fact, he’d waken up with a lovely morning erection and had been in a state of semi-excitement since then. He pushed his hips against Gideon’s hand. “You can’t leave me like this, Gideon!” he said a little too loudly. “Bloody tease!”
"Shhh!" Gideon laughed, looking over his shoulder even though the door was closed.
"I'm leaving you exactly how you left me at the table, so who's the bloody tease? Besides, it would be incredibly rude of me to molest you in your grandfather's home. I guess you'll just have to find a reason to leave later, won't you?
"Now where are those shorts I'm supposed to change into?"
Kingsley stormed towards a dresser and took a pair of denim cutoffs from a drawer. He threw them at Gideon angrily, then started unbuttoning his shorts.
He stood there watching Kingsley for a moment, holding the cutoffs loosely in his hand. "Why are you angry with me now?"
When he didn't answer, Gideon stepped closer, putting his hand over Kingsley's to stall him for a moment and repeated his question.
“Why? Because you once again get me all worked up and then you decide to be prim and proper. As for my reason to leave this room later than you, here it is: I’ll take care of it myself. You don’t have to worry about molesting me, Mr. Prewett! I’ll molest myself. But I’ll be damned if I’m walking out of this room like this.”
"Kingsley," Gideon shook his head, "you have no patience. How can you be all worked up? I've barely touched you."
He pushed Kingsley's hands aside, trying to close the buttons on the denims.
"There is something to be said about anticipation. I didn't mean leave the room just now, I meant leave this house, later. Will you come home with me later? Just the thought of that makes me want to wait. I'd rather behave here, in your grandfather's home, like I should, all prim and proper, and let it build. For later."
Moving closer, Gideon kissed his jaw line, dragging his tongue down Kingsley's neck. Nuzzling aside the shirt, he nipped his collarbone.
"Doesn't later sound like much more fun?"
The thought of going to Gideon’s flat later made Kingsley feel much better. The kissing was very good, too. He stood there, letting himself be kissed, enjoying the novel sensation of being pleased somewhat passively.
He wanted to tell Gideon that he didn’t have to be touched by him to be all worked up, that he had woken up that morning thinking about the night before and wanting to relive every single moment of it.
And then he realized he was thinking like a girl! Quickly he shook the thoughts away and pulled Gideon closer, his hands moving to Gideon’s arse and pressing them together. “I’m hard and ready all the time, Gideon. You should know this by now,” he said with a laugh.
He thought he managed to withdraw from that situation all right. Of course, there was later to deal with, but it would buy Gideon some time. He could accept that.
"Well then," he said, slapping Kingsley's arse, "Let's change and go swimming. Your grandfather will think we've gotten lost."
An open door in the guest room led to a bathroom. Figuring he'd be safer in another room than near Kingsley, Gideon closed the door behind himself to change into dark green swim shorts. He left his shirt on, assuming he could leave it by the pool with the denim shorts. Besides, he would need them for lunch.
Kingsley conjured sobering thoughts; the quickest one to take care of his situation was the disturbing image of having his father discover where he’d been the night before. It was another great gift of Santini’s, who had drilled McIntosh’s furious face into Kingsley’s mind. “It works, Kingsley. There’s nothing that works like a Wilting Charm than the thought of having to tell your parents that you fancy men, too.”
It worked again today. Sighing, he walked out of the guest bedroom and went to the pool area. Southwood was there and Kingsley sat down with his grandfather, opening up his white shirt to soak in some of the sun.
“Where’s Gideon?” Southwood asked, laughing. “I thought you both had got lost.”
“No, we’re looking for something that would make him comfortable,” was Kingsley’s response, another one of his well-twisted truths. “He’s coming soon.”
“Good, good.” Southwood stood up and undressed to his swimming shorts. In spite of being an old man, he was in excellent shape and enjoyed doing a few laps before lunch. “Will you wait for him, or do you want to join me now, Kingsley?”
“I’ll wait for a few minutes, Grandpa.”
“All right. We’ll have lunch in about ninety minutes, and the exercise should whet our appetites. Mrs. Wilcott has prepared a great meal for us.” He looked at his grandson. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Kingsley nodded in agreement, thinking, Probably would have to wank a lot. The cousins had a running bet on whether Southwood and his housekeeper shared more than a working relationship. Kingsley and Santini, the most cynical of the group, bet heavily on another kind of relationship, and they looked for clues constantly. But they could never say for sure. If there was anything at all, Southwood and the housekeeper were extremely discreet.
He heard the clean splash of his grandfather diving into the pool and, a second later, he heard steps coming from the house. He turned around and cursed when he saw Gideon in his green swimming shorts. It was definitely too much to hope that a man who wore pants to a date to have a skimpy bathing suit on, he thought ruefully.
He’d have to teach Mr. Prewett a thing or two about the art of swimming.
He heard the curse as he walked closer; there was nothing subtle about Kingsley. Considering that, he wondered how the boy kept any discretion about his life where his family was concerned.
If Gideon hadn't walked in on Fabian five years ago, he'd never have known. Fabian didn't give any indication about his preferences. Of course, that was the only hint his perfect brother wasn't faultless. Gideon still didn't know who the man was the day he walked in on Fabian. He'd looked for clues since that day and never learned anything.
Even when they went out, Fabian only flirted with women. Whoever the mysterious man was, Gideon had never seen another hint of him.
Learning from his brother, Gideon rarely gave hints to his preferences. Fabian assumed and Meg knew. In the eyes of his friends and family, Gideon and Meg had been casually dating for almost a year. His parents grudgingly accepted that; they learned during the year that he dated Sabrina that Gideon would never marry a pureblood.
His father didn't like Meg at all, though, surprisingly, Molly did. She'd gone to dinner twice with him and Fabian at the Burrow, as Fabian affectionately called it. His mum was indifferent to her, which Gideon appreciated. He didn't want Meg near his family.
With Mr. Shacklebolt on the far side of the pool, just surfacing for air, Gideon slowly eyed Kingsley as he reclined in the chair. Setting his shirt on an empty chair, he grinned at him, then dove into the pool without a word.
Kingsley certainly didn’t expect Gideon to jump into the pool so fast. He considered following suit, but decided to give Gideon a bit of the cold shoulder treatment. He rose slowly, faced the pool, made sure that Gideon could see him and stretched out his arm, opening the shirt and baring his torso. His lower belly rose above the hem of the white shorts, but not enough to show the top of his skimpy swimming trunks. Let him wonder if I have anything underneath or not, he thought. He approached the edge of the pool, hands on his shorts pockets, in the process gathering his shirts under his arms.
“Com on, son, jump in,” Southwood called out.
“In one second, Grandpa. I’m going inside first to ask Mrs. Wilcott for some cold drinks. What do you both want?” He turned to Gideon. “She makes excellent lemonade. She can spike it with something stronger, if you can take the excitement.” His face was serious, but he burst into laughter when his grandfather did the same.
“Gideon, you have to try it. Kingsley, please ask her to bring me one.”
"Lemonade would be lovely, thank you."
He was regretting getting into the pool so quickly, though he enjoyed watching Kingsley stretch. His movements reminded him of dancing the night before and Gideon was suddenly glad for the cool water of the pool.
And who was just lecturing Kingsley about patience? he thought ruefully.
He turned toward Mr. Shacklebolt in order to not watch Kingsley.
Looking for a conversation outside of Quidditch, he began discussing the Auror department.
Kingsley ran inside and told Mrs. Wilcott to bring two pitchers of ice cold lemonade, “Your special one for Grandpa and my friend, Mrs. Wilcott,” he said, giving the old lady a charming smile.
She smiled warmly in return. She never made any secret that Kingsley and Santini were her favorite Shacklebolt grandchildren. “I’ll be there soon, Kingsley. Why don’t you go for a swim in the meantime, dear?”
He rushed back and, when he arrived at the table, he called out to the pool, “Grandpa! It won’t be a minute,” just to make sure that Gideon looked at him. He started taking off his shirt, folding it carefully and placing it on the chair, then unzipping his denim shorts and pulling them down very slowly down his hips and legs. Underneath he was wearing a very small white competition-style swimsuit.
He strutted to the edge of the swimming pool, stared at Gideon and dove.
His throat was suddenly dry and Gideon wondered where the lemonade was. Positive he missed a question from Kingsley's grandfather, Gideon tried to focus, but could only see tapered hips hugged by brief white material.
"I'm sorry sir?" he said, shaking his head to clear the image. He was too old to be distracted by such things. Yet, every time he thought himself immune, Kingsley proved him wrong.
It was rather irritating, Gideon thought.
Kingsley dove close to Gideon and, as he was coming up to the surface, he brushed his hand up Gideon’s leg and squeezed his arse briefly. He put his head above water and shook it briefly, before grinning happily at his grandfather. “Mrs. Wilcott’s bringing the lemonade, Grandpa.” Then he turned to Gideon. “The water feels good, doesn’t it? Nice and cool, when it’s so…hot outside.” The pause was brief, but he knew Gideon would understand the meaning.
"Very hot. No wonder you like coming here, Kingsley," he said, glancing down, "It's a great view."
Turning toward Mr. Shacklebolt, he said politely, "I can't thank you enough for the invitation."
He hoped the lemonade would arrive soon to occupy Mr. Shacklebolt; he wanted a chance to look at Kingsley again.
Feeling silly, with the intent of distracting himself, he splashed Kingsley before diving under the water and swimming to the other side.
Kingsley immediately followed Gideon, swimming quickly. As soon as he reached Gideon, he splashed him with water and soon they were boys again, playing in the water.
Southwood took this as his cue to step out of the pool. He took one of the towels that Mrs. Wilcott had brought and, as she handed him a glass of her special lemonade, he thanked her with a wide smile and a pat on her hand.
In the pool, Kingsley nudged Gideon to observe the older people. “Look, Gideon, watch them.”
"How long has she worked here, for years? Of course they're friendly." Gideon dunked him, wrapping one leg around Kingsley's hips while his grandfather's back was turned.
Letting him go as he surfaced, Gideon whispered, "You see sex in everything, don't you?"
He swam away again, but Kingsley caught him and straddled his hips from behind. Once Gideon sputtered to the surface he laughed – quietly - "Don't you think he's a bit old to be shagging the help?"
“That’s what Hollings says, but Santini and I have all the faith in the virility of Shacklebolt men. We can shag forever,” Kingsley said right before he put both hands on Gideon’s shoulders and dunked him again, for good measure. He backstroked away, as quickly as he could.
Gideon swam beneath him, coming up right behind him and wrapped both arms around his chest, pulling him against him. He winced as one of Kingsley's arms caught him near his eyes, "Forever, is it? You'll have to prove that sometime."
He pushed Kingsley under, wondering if he even heard his comment then turned to climb out of the pool.
Kingsley sputtered water and shouted, “It’s a deal, Prewett! You can test it any time you want!” He hoped that his grandpa would ask Gideon what Kingsley was talking about, just to embarrass Gideon. He swam quickly to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out.
Gideon was already drying himself, so Kingsley took the last towel and stood right in front of him. He dried his face and head only, letting the water drip off his body.
He was staring at Gideon with a smirk on his face, and only stopped when Southwood called them to join him in a fine glass of lemonade.
His back to the other two, Gideon watched him, vividly imagining licking the water droplets off him. He startled guiltily when Mr. Shacklebolt called out to them. Closing his eyes for a moment, he had to force the thoughts away.
Hopefully Kingsley didn't interpret the shameless look on his face; he feared it was all too obvious. Screwing a fake smile on, he turned to accept a glass from Mrs. Wilcott's hand.
"Thank you ma'am," Gideon said, bowing to her. Playing in the pool brought out silliness that Gideon had been missing lately.
Mrs. Wilcott poured Kingsley a glass of lemonade from a second pitcher. He flashed her a smile, thanked her and downed half of the glass in one gulp. She really made the best lemonades in the world. He didn’t mind that she served him from the children’s batch. He had, of course, tried the spiked drink, slyly handed to him by one of the older cousins, but hadn’t liked it. He was the only Shacklebolt boy who didn’t pester Mrs. Wilcott for a little bit of it, and she thought that he had admirable self control.
Patting him on the cheek, she said, “Just a few more weeks, dear, and you can have some, too.” She turned to Gideon. “He’s such a sweetheart. His cousins all tried to convince me that they looked old enough to drink before they turned seventeen, those big Shacklebolt men,” she said, stealing a sideway glance at Southwood, who was sipping his lemonade and watching her.
She smoothed her apron. “Do you need anything else right now, Mr. Shacklebolt?”
“No, we’re fine, Mrs. Wilcott, thank you for this delicious lemonade.”
“All right, I’ll be busy with lunch, then.”
Under the table, Kingsley kicked Gideon’s shin swiftly, and drank the rest of his lemonade, immediately filling his glass again.
Knowing that Kingsley just didn't like alcohol, Gideon didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. Let them believe what they wanted of their grandson. His grandson. Apparently, Kingsley's personality problems were infectious – now he was assuming Mr. Shacklebolt and Mrs. Wilcott were an item.
Gideon was going to have to talk to him about all this kicking. His poor shins had had enough. Kingsley was going to have to learn something subtler before he broke a leg. He poured himself a second glass; it really was very good, and wondered what she added. He would have to share Kingsley's pitcher if he drank anymore.
Stretching on the chair next to Kingsley, Gideon smiled, "More swimming before lunch?"
Kingsley stood up immediately. “Is that all right, Grandpa?” And, after receiving Southwood’s approval, he turned to Gideon. “Race you. Last one’s Voldemort’s bi-“ He stopped right on time and let out a loud war cry to hide what he didn’t say, running towards the pool and diving swiftly.
Southwood just smirked and shook his head.
Shocked at what Kingsley almost said, Gideon simply closed his gaping mouth and dove in, swimming in the opposite direction. He wanted to use the pool for exercise while he had a chance. Doing a breaststroke, Gideon fell into a quick pace, racing back and forth several times.
After a couple laps, he stopped to find Kingsley, "Join me?"
Kingsley had stopped swimming and was observing Gideon’s fine backstroke. He wasn’t worried about what he’d almost blurted out. His grandfather was much more lenient with him than his father and, besides, when the cousins were all together, the language was a bit rough. Grandpa understood. He’d tell his grandsons to watch their language, but would tell his sons that boys would be boys.
He was watching Gideon cut through the water like a fish, arms stroking forwards and legs moving so swiftly that there was no water splash. It was fine sight, only broken by those long shorts. He wished he had spilled something on those damn shorts; then Gideon would have to wear one of Hollings’s skimpy suits, too.
He snorted. Mr. Gideon Prim-and-Proper Prewett would probably rather go starkers than wear something so revealing…
Yeah, he probably would. Now, that was an idea. With a naughty grin, he answered Gideon. “Sure. What do you want to do?”
Gideon rolled his eyes at the grin, "Swim, you git. Come on, race me?"
He pulled Kingsley in the pool with him then counted off. When Kingsley began to pull ahead, Gideon broke form long enough to push on his back, dragging him under, then swam away, laughing.
As soon as Kingsley came back up and cried out, “Cheating Slytherin!” Southwood announced that lunch was ready.
They pulled themselves out of the water and dried quickly with magically warmed towels. Kingsley immediately put his white shirt and the shorts back on. Grandpa was all right with loose language, but not with lack of manners.
Mrs. Wilcott Levitated a large tray; places were set quickly and she served a nice summer lunch of cold salmon and salad.
He dressed and sat on the far side of Kingsley, which was hopefully out of foot range. Lunch was amazing, and he made sure to tell Mrs. Wilcott that.
Full, he settled back in the chair, legs spread out beneath the table, sipping lemonade.
Southwood made some small talk after lunch, then he announced that he was going upstairs for a nap. The two young men should just enjoy themselves; he’d see them again for tea.
As soon as his grandfather disappeared inside the house, Kingsley stood up and motioned for Gideon to do the same, telling him, “Let’s go for a walk.”
Falling in line with Kingsley as they walked away from the pool, Gideon leaned over, brushing his shoulder against him. "Thank you for the invitation, it's been a fun day. Your grandfather is great."
“He is,” Kingsley said simply. He walked through a wooded area and, as soon as they were out of vision from the house, Kingsley put his arm around Gideon’s waist, leading them towards a lakefront area.
Leaning into Kingsley's side, he followed him to a short wooden dock. Standing at the end near the water, he took off his shirt and denim cutoffs, assuming they would go swimming again.
Kingsley loved to swim in the lake. The pool was nice, but the lake was secluded and it was the perfect place to take a date. He took off his shirt and shorts. He stretched out his hands to Gideon and pulled him close. “Ready, Gideon?” Then he looked directly into Gideon’s eyes, put his hands inside the top of his white swimsuit and slowly pulled it down his legs.
Looking at Kingsley was easy, but as he leaned over and let go of Gideon, his eyes followed the motions downward as Kingsley slowly wiggled out of the swimsuit. He had nothing to say, for once, as he realized that Kingsley was removing much more than the denims that hugged his body earlier. Hands flailing uselessly at his sides, Gideon began tapping his fingers nervously against each other.
What are you doing? were the obvious words, but he wasn't in the mood to be mocked as Kingsley straightened and kicked the little swimsuit into their mixed pile of clothes.
Torn between the desire to just enjoy himself and look, and to remember why... what… something about another six weeks of proper distance… Gideon wasn't sure what he was thinking as the imp smiled at him.
Kingsley thrust his chin towards Gideon’s swimming trunks. “You now. You don't need clothes for this. We’re going skinny dipping.”
"We are?" he asked inanely, standing there without moving as Kingsley waited. Not that he waited patiently. After a moment, when Gideon still didn't move, Kingsley sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, "Yes, Mr. Prewett, we are."
Kingsley put warm hands on Gideon's hips, and smiling teasingly, dropped his eyes to watch. Rotating his fingers in tiny circles on Gideon's hipbones, he slowly pushed down, his smile getting larger the lower the trunks went.
Unmoving except for clenching and unclenching his palms at his sides, Gideon bit his lip and didn't speak. He barely had any control left, and was afraid he'd do something stupid, like drop them both to the dock and worry about splinters later.
Kingsley pushed Gideon’s short down his thighs, and from there they fell off on their own. He brought his hands back up slowly, from the sides of Gideon’s thighs, over his hips and stopped on his waist. His eyes followed a similar path, starting from the legs up. Kingsley was unabashedly eating up the sight of naked Gideon.
Finally, eyes met eyes, and Kingsley nodded in appreciation. “Very nice, Mr. Prewett. The look suits you. You should always be like this in my presence.”
"I should…" he shook his head. The boy's audacity was amazing. He closed the distance between them, caressing Kingsley's face with both hands. Leaning in closer, he licked Kingsley's closed lips, asking for permission, slowly backing them the rest of the way toward the water.
"Always, is it?" Gliding his palms down Kingsley's arms, he reached for his hands and took both of them in his, pulling them as if to wrap them tighter around his body. He kissed Kingsley once, thrusting his tongue inside briefly.
"Why, that's exactly what I was just thinking," he said. Smiling, he leaned in for another brief kiss, teasing him.
Pressing their bodies together, he ran his tongue along Kingsley's incredible jaw line. Some day Gideon vowed to put some proper effort into mapping that body.
"You are incredibly arrogant, Shacklebolt," Gideon said suddenly. Instead of pulling him closer, he pushed Kingsley off the dock into the water.
I hope the water's deep, he thought after the fact, waiting a moment to jump in after him.
Knowing that they’d be going to Gideon’s flat later, and the assurance that Mr. Prewett wouldn’t be able to resist any more, had put Kingsley in a very good mood and he came back up laughing. “This is what happens when one trusts a Slytherin,” he said, quickly swimming to Gideon’s side, who had just emerged a second before.
Treading water, he circled Gideon’s waist with one hand and pulled them to a shallower part of the lake, where the water reached almost to the top of his shoulders. Then he let his hands slide down Gideon’s back, resting on his buttocks and bringing him closer. He tilted his head and kissed Gideon full on the mouth.
Finally, Gideon thought, returning the kiss. He assumed Kingsley had enough common sense to know they wouldn't get caught.
Realizing it was the first time Kingsley was free of tight clothes, Gideon quickly wrapped his arms around him, content to just touch. He curved his hands around Kingsley's arse, kneading and rubbing.
Involuntarily growling, Gideon broke away long enough to mumble, "Fuck, I want you," before returning to the kiss, sliding his tongue in and out and slowly moving them out of the water.
Good, because I want to fuck you, Kingsley thought happily. It had been a great plan. Now he had Gideon naked and wanting. He let himself be led out of the water, and then, skillfully changed their direction towards the old boathouse.
He didn't care where they went. At this point, he was willing to go to Azkaban for touching Kingsley. He had seen a small boathouse earlier, but in all honesty, he wasn't paying attention to where Kingsley led him. Aroused to the point of incoherency, Gideon just wanted to stop moving and look at him. Between his initial shock at skinny-dipping and the anticipation of playing freely, he was going crazy.
Slightly aware that Kingsley was leading him, but uncaring, he followed, hands plastered to Kingsley's buttocks as they stumbled about, trying to kiss and touch and walk.
Kingsley opened the door of the boathouse with his heels and he and Gideon stumbled inside, locked in a kiss that had made walking almost dangerous.
The shack was a favorite playroom for the young Shacklebolts; there were all sorts of toys piled up on a corner and against the walls, a few mattresses and sleeping bags. When the family was all together, the boys usually slept in the shack, the older ones telling ghost stories to scare the younger.
Kingsley had the room mapped in his mind and he swiftly moved towards one of the mattresses, dropping the two of them on it, still embracing as one. He stopped the kiss for one second, to look at Gideon’s face under his, just the way he wanted.
Legs spread, Kingsley lying heavily between them, Gideon took a deep breath as Kingsley pulled away to look at him. Tracing Kingsley's jaw with one hand he grinned. "Hey," he said softly.
Words jumbled in his mind; he wanted more than he could have, and while a small part of his mind remembered caution, he didn't care. Kingsley pressed down, rubbing their cocks together and Gideon pushed up, grinding his hips into him.
Kingsley kissed Gideon’s jaw, then his neck, all the time pressing their bodies together; his right hand was stroking the parts of Gideon’s body that weren’t covered by his own and finally resting on his hip. His tongue traced a path down Gideon’s chest, stopping at one nipple, which he took into his mouth and sucked avidly, feeling Gideon squirm under him, the movement driving him crazy.
The only thing he wanted was to take Gideon in his mouth, and he let go of the nipple and went down, tongue licking Gideon’s belly until mouth found the hard cock.
Creative fingers and tongue drove him to distraction and Gideon couldn't hold still. Kingsley's tongue tickled his stomach, and Gideon held his breath, desperately hoping, as he went lower.
As Kingsley took him in his mouth, Gideon moaned. Without thought he reached down to caress his head, or pull his hair, until he felt the bare skin. At a loss at what to do with his hand, he briefly covered Kingsley's other hand that was still on his hip.
Kingsley swirled his tongue around the head of Gideon’s cock, then took just the tip inside, sucking and teasing. He loved giving head and seeing his partner squirm, pleading for more.
With veiled eyes, he looked up and saw Gideon’s face, pleasure evident. He held back a smile and concentrated on taking a little more inside. Little by little, inch by inch, just to make Mr. Prewett beg, maybe?
Kingsley's hand on his hips prevented Gideon from thrusting upwards and burying his cock inside the warm mouth. Considering how they spent the afternoon, Gideon wasn't terribly surprised about the teasing.
He reached down and grabbed the base of his own cock, stretching fingers around to touch his balls, hoping Kingsley would push him away.
Slapping Gideon’s hand away, Kingsley let go of Gideon’s cock to say, “No, you don’t,” and then, in a surprise move, opened his mouth wider and took Gideon completely in, deepthroating him in one single move.
"God, Kingsley!" he yelled after Kingsley slapped him. Gideon wanted to tell him how good it felt, but he couldn't string together any words that made sense. Squirming, he moaned, " Don't stop."
Kingsley’ head bobbed as he sucked Gideon’s cock, bringing his mouth from the base to the tip, pulling out, licking the head, then all the way to the base again. He heard Gideon asking him not to stop and he grinned mentally. He had absolutely no intentions to stop.
As Gideon squirmed and moaned louder, Kingsley sucked harder and faster, feeling that Gideon was getting close. He was also getting close, rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress.
When Gideon came with a loud gasp, Kingsley followed right after.
Damn, he's every bit as talented as he said he was. Gideon pulled him back up next to him, kissing him briefly on the cheek.
"Thanks," he said, falling to his side, lying next to Kingsley without touching him. Finally able to relax, he propped himself on one elbow. "Very nice," he said, slowly eyeing Kingsley's naked body.
Glancing down he frowned, "I had hoped to return the favor."
"Well," Kingsley drawled, "you said we can go to your flat. Let's go. So you can molest me in peace, away from my grandfather’s house.” He stood up and winced at the mess on the mattress – but Merlin knew how many times those mattresses had seen action like that from the cousins. “Can you Scourgify this, Gideon?” he asked, while pulling a piece of colorful fabric from a hook on the wall and wrapping it low on his hips like a sarong. He offered Gideon one, already expecting it to be refused.
“Let’s go before Grandpa – and Mrs. Wilcott – wake up. I’ll leave a message for them saying that I went to your flat.”
They walked outside, without touching, and collected their clothes. Kingsley watched Gideon get dressed, thinking that he was really looking forward to going to Gideon’s flat – and make Mr. Prewett break his vow.
There was absolutely nothing that could stand between him and a great night of shagging Gideon.