Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2008-10-13 08:00:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | coauthor: emiime, hp fic better the instruction, hp fic teddy |
HP fic: Better the Instruction (11/22) [Teddy solo, adult]
Title: Better the Instruction (11/22)
Authors: celandineb and emiime
Fandom: HP
Chapter pairings: Teddy solo; references to Teddy/Andrew, Remus/Sam, Remus/Teddy.
Chapter rating: adult
Chapter length: ~7500 words
Warnings: Wanking, plugs, incestuous fantasies, rimming fantasies.
Summary: The Screaming Meemies concert is brilliant, but the aftermath is not.
Note: AU (Remus survived the war). See here for complete story header with all pairings/warnings. Also posted here.
Chapter 11
Teddy had been ready to go for nearly twenty minutes. Andrew, on the other hand, was checking his hair in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the dozenth time.
"Seriously, you look great," said Teddy, coming up behind Andrew and embracing him, resting his chin on Andrew's shoulder. "Better than great. Perfect. You look perfect, and I'm not just saying that because we're about to be late, I promise."
"It's all right for you," replied Andrew, shaking off the embrace and attacking his hair with the brush again. "You can just think of a hairstyle and it happens." He scowled at himself in the mirror, then glanced at Teddy's spiky turquoise hair.
Teddy sighed. Andrew had been on edge all afternoon, though he wouldn't admit anything was bothering him, and now that it was time to leave to go to the Screaming Meemies concert, he was being downright uncooperative.
"Let me see," said Teddy. He took Andrew by the shoulders and turned him around. "Okay. Hold still." Teddy took up a pot of pomade from the counter and scooped some up, rubbing it between his hands, then went at Andrew's hair, sculpting it into peaks and waves suitable for a young bloke going to a rock concert. Sometimes working at an apothecary's came in handy.
"There," said Teddy, and Andrew turned around and regarded his reflection in the mirror once again.
"Okay," he said grudgingly, "I can live with that."
"You're gorgeous, and you know it," replied Teddy, and Andrew smiled, seemingly in spite of himself.
"Okay," he said again. "Let me just find my shoes, and we can go."
"Your black trainers are by the door, and no shoes are going to go better with that outfit." Teddy paused and wondered when he'd become so pushy--right around the time Andrew started acting like he didn't want to go, he supposed.
Andrew took his time lacing up his trainers, and Teddy tried not to sigh as he did. They were going to be late, dammit, and then introductions would be rushed and everything would be bloody weird.
Not that it wasn't going to be weird already. Going to a pop concert with his dad, and his dad's boyfriend? And his own--well, Teddy wasn't sure if he could call Andrew a boyfriend or not. Not yet, he supposed. Although he rather thought he'd like it, if it happened.
"So we're going to your dad's place first?"
"Yeah, we're meeting them there." Teddy shook his head, just a little bit. They'd been over this at least five times already. "Come on. You remember the Apparition coordinates, or do you want me to do a Side-Along?"
"I remember them," said Andrew.
"All right, then, I'll see you there in a minute." Teddy concentrated, then staggered slightly as he appeared in Remus's hallway. He waited, and it seemed like ages but was really only a minute before Andrew popped into view. Teddy grabbed his hand. "Come on, I bet they're in the kitchen."
Andrew pulled his hand away. "Lead on, then."
"Dad?" Teddy called out as he headed for the back of the house.
"In here," he heard Remus reply.
Teddy pushed open the kitchen door, checking to make sure Andrew was behind him. "Hey, Sam. Dad, Sam, this is my friend Andrew Pilkington. Andrew, this is my dad, and that's Sam Boardman."
"Hello, Mr Lupin. Mr Boardman," said Andrew, holding out his hand to be shaken.
"It's nice to meet you, Andrew," Remus answered. "Please call me Remus, though."
"And I'm Sam." Sam shook Andrew's hand too. "I trust you boys--sorry--you two have eaten already? We do need to get going."
"Yes, we have." Teddy grinned. "Andrew's teaching me to cook; I made toad-in-the-hole today, rather more successfully than last week."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Andrew, have you any idea of the feat you've accomplished? I can't count the number of times I tried to get Teddy interested in learning how to cook for himself. Well done!"
Andrew blushed scarlet as Remus clapped him on the shoulder. Teddy tried to meet his eyes, but Andrew seemed determined to stare at his shoes.
"Right, well, I've been cooking for myself for a while now," said Andrew. "Ted asked, that's all. I didn't do anything, not really."
Teddy furrowed his brow. Why was Andrew acting so weird? Sure, it was a bit bizarre, the idea of meeting not only your date's dad, but your date's dad's boyfriend as well, but Teddy knew that Andrew possessed more social graces than the few he was managing to display.
He nudged Andrew. "It was just as much your idea as mine," he said, "and I think you're a fine teacher." He deliberately didn't look at the other man in the room who had taught him a thing or two in recent months.
When Andrew didn't reply with anything more than a hmm, Remus cleared his throat.
"Perhaps we should all be going now," he said, and he touched Andrew's shoulder again. "We don't want to miss the concert."
Andrew brightened somewhat when Remus mentioned the concert itself--he owned a couple of Screaming Meemies albums, and had played them for Teddy. Teddy knew that Andrew had been looking forward to the actual concert. Maybe it was just the weird social situation. Teddy hoped Andrew would start acting a little more like himself once they got to the concert.
He tried again to take Andrew's hand as the four of them filed into the hallway so Remus and Sam could don their cloaks, but Andrew took his fingers from Teddy's grasp after only a moment.
Teddy frowned. They'd become so physical with each other in the days and nights they'd spent together--and not just in bed; even just when they were cooking together they'd touched and kissed and brushed against each other--that Andrew's new persona was more than a little disconcerting.
"Is everyone ready?" asked Sam, and Teddy was yanked from his reverie.
"Sure," he said, grabbing Andrew's hand defiantly. He squeezed hard, a squeeze that he hoped conveyed the message Please stop being nervous; I really really like you and my dad and Sam are nothing to be afraid of!
"Here, so I don't forget," Sam said. "Tickets. They're pretty good ones, but I'm afraid they're not all together; we'll have to sit two and two." He winked at Teddy as he held them out. Teddy reached for them with his free hand, but Andrew disengaged Teddy's grasp to take his own ticket and tuck it away, shoving both hands into his pockets afterward.
"Come on, then. I thought we should take Muggle transport to get into the proper mood," Sam continued.
On the bus, Andrew seemed to relax a little, talking with Sam about the band and its singer. Teddy listened, not exactly bored, but confused by Andrew's behaviour. At first it had seemed that Andrew didn't like the idea of going with Teddy's dad and his boyfriend, but the way he interacted with Sam belied that. And why was he edging away every time Teddy touched him? It didn't make sense. Teddy hadn't pushed him to go; once Andrew had found out who the band was, he'd been eager.
"Here we are," said Remus cheerfully, and the four of them got off, crossing the street to the concert venue. The audience seemed to be mostly teenagers and twenty-somethings, Teddy's and Andrew's ages, but there was a fair scattering of older people as well, so Remus and Sam didn't stand out, except perhaps for wearing cloaks--but the choice of clothing was so wildly variable that even those weren't too outlandish, as near as Teddy could tell. There were even quite a few people with hair as unusually coloured as Teddy's turquoise.
"It's going to be great," Teddy murmured in Andrew's ear. He wanted to put an arm around him, but he was fairly sure Andrew would just step away again. He'd have to ask what was wrong later. There was no point in doing so now, as they were going in the doors.
"We're on opposite sides," Sam said, pointing to the left.
"Shall we just meet here after it's over?" said Remus. "That seems easiest."
"Fine by me," answered Teddy, and Andrew nodded. They headed toward the entrance on the right and made their way to their seats. Sam had been right, they were good; a bit off to the side, but down close to the stage, though not so close that they wouldn't be able to see the whole band easily.
Andrew was looking around interestedly. After a bit he put his mouth close to Teddy's ear to say over the noise of the crowd, "It's a lot more packed than I thought it would be, somehow."
"Yeah! It's great, isn't it?" replied Teddy, speaking close to Andrew's ear, as Andrew had done to him. "Have you ever been to a big concert like this before?"
Andrew shook his head, casting a glance over the crowd. Teddy wanted nothing more than to squeeze Andrew's hand then, but he had a feeling he would probably be rebuffed once again, courtesy of Andrew's unreadable mood. He settled for watching Andrew scan the crowd, letting the babble fill his ears.
Andrew gave a start, then, staring at something behind Teddy, his mouth slightly open. Teddy turned to look--two boys, maybe seventeen, were snogging right there where anyone could see them. One had close-cropped sandy hair and the other, smaller boy had hair the colour of a bonfire, streaked with reds and yellows and oranges. They had their arms around each other and must have been oblivious to the noise of the crowd pressing in all around them, for they were clearly in their own world, together.
Teddy watched as the smaller boy ran his hand down the other's arm and pulled away a little. The two grinned at each other, then the sandy-haired boy bent to speak in the other boy's ear, making him laugh. Teddy grinned at the sight and turned back to Andrew, who was pointedly looking elsewhere in the crowd.
"Huh," Teddy said aloud to no one in particular. The picture the two boys had made was burned into his mind, snogging in the middle of the throng of people, uncaring about what anyone might think, love passing between them and buzzing around them, drowning out the noise of the crowd and making them focus solely on each other.
He'd have liked to have kissed Andrew like that, right there, but he was a little afraid of what Andrew might do if he tried. And, he had to admit to himself, he was more than a little afraid to kiss another boy in public--no matter what it was they got up to in the privacy of their bedrooms.
Andrew turned back to Teddy, then, and spoke into his ear again. "D'you think it'll start soon?" Andrew's breath on his ear made the hairs on the back of Teddy's neck stand up, and he shivered.
He nodded, and Andrew grinned at him, then, and Teddy was reminded of how any mention of the band had brightened Andrew's mood that day.
As it turned out, there was an opening act that neither of them had ever heard of--Teddy didn't even catch the name when it was announced, but Andrew said it was Purple-something--and which was only mediocre, in Teddy's opinion. He suspected his father would hate it for having virtually no melody in the tunes, only pounding beats and wailing guitars and shrieking voices. He just thought it wasn't very original, himself. Andrew seemed not to think too highly of the music either; he nodded in time with the songs, but there was a little frown on his face.
When the Screaming Meemies appeared, though, the room exploded with delighted applause, and they were far better. Sam's former student, the lead singer, had a marvellous voice, able to produce everything from a sensuous low purr to a high clear bell-like tone, which might have been the reason why the band's songs had such a great variety of sound. Teddy let himself be swept up in it, dancing and bouncing in place with the rest of the audience, aware of Andrew doing the same next to him.
During a song called "Love to Love You," he saw someone a couple of rows from the front toss something on the stage. Knickers, he realised with delighted shock, craning his neck to see who'd thrown them. It was a girl, he thought, although the person was fairly tall with a sharp dark androgynous face. Wicked.
Most of the crowd was doubtless straight as an arrow, but seeing the two boys kissing, the girl throwing her knickers at another girl, made Teddy grin. He still felt a little shy of doing more, but no one would notice if he squeezed Andrew's arse surreptitiously, surely.
Andrew jumped, though, and stepped away, shooting Teddy what he could only describe as a panicky glare. "Cut it out," he barked in Teddy's ear.
Damn it. Teddy was just trying to show his affection, discreetly, and Andrew overreacted like this? Teddy had to focus hard not to change his appearance in annoyance; it wouldn't do, not in Muggle space. He turned slightly away from Andrew and concentrated on the band, trying to get lost in the music again. He couldn't help but be aware of Andrew next to him, seeming likewise stiff and ill-at-ease for a song or two, but then the band played something that was apparently one of Andrew's favourites, for his face brightened and he sang along with it, as did most of the crowd. Teddy felt a bit left out for not knowing the words, but it was a brilliant tune.
After that Teddy didn't try to touch Andrew again until the show was over. When it was, Andrew turned and said, "Aren't they great? I've never had the chance to hear them live before."
"Um--yeah, actually. I really liked them." Andrew's good mood came as a surprise to Teddy, especially after his reaction the last time Teddy had tried to touch him.
Andrew nodded, grinning, and he leaned close to speak in Teddy's ear again. "You don't think Sam could maybe get us backstage to meet them, do you?"
Teddy shrugged. "Let's go find my dad and Sam and we'll see." He wasn't much in the mood to be asking for favours for Andrew, but he would have liked to meet the band himself, so he thought he'd see what Sam said.
When they had finally pushed through the crowd to the lobby, they found Remus and Sam already there waiting for them. They were deep in conversation and didn't notice Teddy and Andrew approaching until they were right on top of them.
"Enjoy the concert, boys?" asked Remus, and they both nodded.
"It was brilliant!" declared Andrew. He grasped Sam's hand and pumped it up and down. "Thanks a lot, Mr Board--ah, Sam. Thanks for the ticket--I probably would never have got to see them live otherwise."
"My pleasure," said Sam, grinning broadly.
Teddy frowned, wondering why exactly touching Sam was okay with Andrew, but the moment Teddy approached him, he jumped away. But he pushed the thought aside when he heard Andrew asking if Sam thought there was any chance they could get backstage, as he was definitely interested in the answer.
Sam looked at Remus, who merely raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
"I don't know, Andrew. I think Remus and I might have had enough excitement for one night--we're not quite as young and vibrant as you and Ted. But I do meet up with Aimee now and then when she's travelling through, so there's the distinct probability that we could all have lunch together someday, or something. Much better than the insanity of backstage. Trust me on that."
Andrew looked somewhat disappointed, but he nodded. "All right. I'd like that very much, wouldn't you, Ted?"
"Sure," Teddy agreed. "She was really fantastic. The whole band, but Aimee especially. Thanks, Sam, for getting us in tonight."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Sam put his hand on Remus's elbow. "But I think these two old men are ready to head for home now."
Remus smiled at Sam and patted his arm. "Your place tonight."
Teddy quashed a pang at the look on his father's face--he was happy that Remus was happy, he told himself stubbornly--and glanced away. Andrew had turned red and taken a step back.
"Yeah, well. I guess I'll see you next week sometime then," Teddy mumbled. "Thanks again, Sam."
"Yes, thank you. It was nice to meet you," Andrew said a little stiffly.
Teddy pulled Andrew aside, out of the way of the last stragglers coming out of the building, as Remus and Sam headed for the bus stop. "What do you want to do now? It's not that late; we could go to a club or something? Even if the music won't be as good as the Meemies."
"A club?" Andrew sounded wary.
"Yeah, a club. You know, drink, dance, that sort of thing." Teddy was still wound up from the energy of the show. "I've heard that Charon is pretty fun, off Amor Alley, although I've never been there."
Andrew swallowed. "I don't think it's the type of place I'd be comfortable at."
"Whyever not? It's supposed to be friendly to all types. You know. We could dance together there," said Teddy. "I'm not ready to go home yet, are you? I thought that it might be fun. Kind of a let down to just go have a drink at the boring old Leaky."
"I like the boring old Leaky," said Andrew, shoving his hands in his pockets. The crowd had dissipated almost entirely, and their voices sounded too loud in the crisp winter evening.
Teddy glanced around, then stepped closer to Andrew. "Hey, what's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean what's going on? Why did you move away from me every time I tried to touch you in there? Why have you been acting like a prat all night?" Teddy paused for breath. "Seriously," he said, more slowly now, "is something the matter?"
Andrew gave an uncomfortable little laugh. "Bloody hell, Ted, who d'you think you are, my bride-to-be? Why all the relationship questions?"
Teddy scowled. "Why the avoidance?" He crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. He wasn't going to let Andrew get away with ignoring his questions.
"I don't need this discussion right now," Andrew said. "Come on, let's just go back to your flat. Or mine--I've got some beer there. Maybe we could have a drink or two, and go from there."
"Go where from there?" Teddy's voice cracked, and he felt colour start to rise reflexively in his cheeks, but he didn't care. "Andrew, this is--I have no idea what's going on." He looked around again to be certain that no one was overhearing this awkward semblance of a conversation.
"Listen," said Andrew, his voice gentler, but with an edge of restraint, "I'm sorry. If you want to talk, let's do it somewhere else. All right? Not here in the bloody street."
"Fine," said Teddy. He privately thought that Andrew didn't sound very sorry, but he kept that thought to himself for the moment.
"My place or yours?" asked Andrew with an attempt at a grin. Teddy's expression soured at the bastardisation of the pickup line he'd used the first night they had met at the Leaky.
He sighed. "Yours, I suppose," he said. "A beer sounds really bloody good right about now."
They found a spot in an alley where no stray Muggle could see them, and Apparated to Andrew's flat.
"Here." Andrew rummaged in his fridge and passed Teddy a can of beer, opening one for himself.
Teddy popped it open and took a long swallow before sitting down at one end of the sofa. Andrew settled at the far end. His hair had wilted somewhat at the concert, but was still attractively tousled. He was an awfully good-looking bloke, really, and the way he licked the stray drops of beer from his lips made Teddy want to do it for him--no, fuck, Andrew'd been acting weird all night and Teddy wanted to know why. He wasn't going to let himself be distracted.
"Okay, then. We're at your flat, no one else is here, so let's talk. You didn't seem like you wanted to go see the band, somehow, even though obviously you liked the show a lot. Was it just me you didn't want to be around?" Teddy couldn't quite keep a note of hurt out of his voice. "I thought we were getting to be friends."
"We are," said Andrew quickly. "Ted, I really like you. I do."
"So what the hell were you doing tonight? Seriously, it seemed like you couldn't stand to be around me," said Teddy. He drank again.
"You're--you don't understand what it's like, being what I am."
"What do you mean, 'being what you are'? A poof? A fairy? A nancy?" Teddy went for the words that might hurt. "Well, if you are, so am I. So what?"
"No. Well, that, but being on the Portree team. Even just as a reserve player--I hope I'll get promoted, in a year or two. It means I'm in the public eye a bit, you know?" Andrew's expression was uncomfortable. "There's certain, well, certain expectations. For behaviour. I can't be out there snogging you in public."
"You mean they'd kick you off the team if people knew you fancied me?" asked Teddy incredulously. "That's ridiculous."
"Maybe not kick me off, but I'd get a lot of grief for it. Stupid gossip in the Prophet, whispers in the showers, you know." Andrew was staring down at the can he was holding between his knees. "I can't handle that kind of thing. I just can't."
Teddy stared at Andrew for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "You're serious?"
Andrew turned to Teddy, glaring. "Of course I'm bloody serious! You think I want all the blokes on the team to avoid me in the locker rooms? You think I want my mum to find out about how I am by reading it in the paper?"
"Listen, Andrew, I'm not some kind of activist, or anything--I'm kind of just figuring this all out myself--but I want to be able to be who I am without censoring myself for anyone." He ticked off on his fingers. "Blue hair, werewolf dad, queer. Whatever. I'm not exactly ready to march in one of those parades the Muggles have, or anything, but god, Andrew, I want to be able to like someone--to like you--without having to hide it!"
Teddy was only bluffing a little--he was actually scared as hell to be affectionate with Andrew in Wizarding public, especially after Andrew had acted like he had when they were only around Muggles. But he meant the rest of it, and besides, he was annoyed at Andrew's fears and cross with him for not speaking up about them in the first place.
Andrew drained the rest of his beer, not looking at Teddy.
"You don't think I want that, too?" he mumbled after too long a moment.
"I don't know," Teddy replied with a shrug of one shoulder, "It doesn't seem like you do."
"Well, I do," said Andrew, "I just--"
"Don't want it enough," Teddy supplied, finishing his own beer. He slammed the can down onto the coffee table. "Got more of these? I think we might need them."
Andrew only nodded and gestured towards the refrigerator. Teddy found a reserve of beer in the back, extracted two cans, and popped them open, handing one to Andrew. Their fingers brushed when he did, but he pretended not to notice.
They sat silently for a few minutes, drinking. Finally Teddy said, "Does anyone you actually care about know that you're queer? Not whoever else you've fooled around with besides me, I mean."
"No." Andrew said it so softly that Teddy almost didn't hear him. "There's only been about three or four other blokes, anyway." He swallowed. "If I hadn't been drunk the night we met..."
"So being with me that night was some kind of lapse on your part, even if you were so careful to snog 'round the corner by the loo so that no one would see?" asked Teddy, unable to keep the venom from his voice.
"Ted--oh, fuck. That wasn't what I meant. I'm just, I'm scared, okay? I hate it, but I am." Andrew took a long pull of his beer. "Maybe you're perfectly fine with being out and open and everything, since your dad has a boyfriend and your mum's dead and there's not exactly going to be any repercussions for you with your family. But my mum will weep and wail and my dad will be all stern disappointment, and my sisters will giggle and gossip. That's on top of how the team will react, and my other friends."
"How do you know?" asked Teddy.
"I know. Believe me. I've heard what they've said about other people." Andrew stared at his shoes. "How many of your friends were happy when you told them?"
"Um." Teddy swallowed. "I haven't exactly told any of them yet, actually. Like I said, I'm only just figuring it all out. So it's only my dad and Sam who know."
"Well, how easy was it to tell your dad?"
"Not very," Teddy admitted. "He hadn't told me he was queer--I, uh, I walked in on him and Sam only a couple of months ago. You know. Having sex. Kind of a tough way to find out."
"So you ought to understand if I'm kind of hesitant to let people know, or be all over you in public. I mean, if your dad couldn't tell you?" There was an odd mixture of anger and resignation and challenge in Andrew's voice.
"My dad--he's got nothing to do with this," Teddy spat back. "There's a big bloody difference between telling your parents and telling your kid. Your kid that you had with a woman, your kid who's only eighteen and who you think will probably be pretty confused, except he turns out to be a whole lot more understanding that you think he ever could be--whoa." Teddy paused and reviewed the tangle of words he'd just directed at Andrew. Okay, he hadn't given anything away. He took a deep breath and began again, trying to make his voice a little gentler but, he thought, failing.
"You don't have to be 'all over me' in public," he said. "And the only reason I haven't told any of my friends yet is that I haven't really had a reason to do so." He shrugged. "But--you're a good reason. If we're--um, together. So I guess I should tell them."
"Not about me, though!" Andrew's voice was panicked.
Teddy set his beer on the coffee table and buried his head in his hands. He stayed like that for a minute, trying his hardest not to lash out at Andrew.
"No," he finally said through gritted teeth. He raised his head and looked over at Andrew. "I wouldn't tell them about you. It's your business. Though I guess eventually they'd all want to meet this bloke I'd be talking about. This bloke I'd be praising. This bloke who I thought was a pretty bloody great catch until--fuck, never mind." He slumped back on the sofa. This conversation was going nowhere. He knew Andrew wasn't going to budge--not tonight, anyway--and no matter how much they drank he wasn't going to Floo call his mum and explain why he never seemed to have a girlfriend.
"Ted, I like you," said Andrew, staring at his hands. "I mean, more than--I said there had been a few others, but I never spent time with them like I do with you, you know? And a couple of them were just so-called straight men who wanted a handjob and didn't care whose hand was involved. So I've never had a--whatever this is. Nothing that felt good in any way other than the physical, not like this has. So I'm a little torn up over it at the moment. Kind of fucks with my whole blokey Quidditch persona thing I've been cultivating."
Teddy's heart trembled a little at Andrew's honest speech, but he took a breath and ignored it.
"I don't care," he said after a long moment. "I should, but I don't. Get over yourself, Andrew."
He did care. Oh, god. He did.
It hurt to stand up, but he did it. "Let me know if you change your mind. You know where I live."
"Ted, please, don't go."
Teddy shook his head. "I don't think I can do this if you're going to freak out at the thought of even touching in public, just holding hands. If you want to hide, you can, but then you're making me hide who I am too. No." He almost said "I'm sorry," because he was, but he was too angry and upset to want to concede that. "You know how to reach me," he repeated. "Goodbye, Andrew."
And with that he Apparated back to his own flat, worrying for an instant as he did so that the two beers had been enough to make him lose concentration and splinch himself, but he arrived intact.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He wanted to hit something. It had seemed like such a good evening, there for a while. The concert had been brilliant. Why had Andrew had to be so, so--bugger it. If Andrew wasn't willing to be at least a little honest about his sexuality with other people, how could Teddy stay with him? Yeah, he hadn't told anyone but his dad (and Sam) yet, but it hadn't really been that long since he'd recognised that he did genuinely prefer blokes, that it wasn't just an occasional thing in the Hogwarts showers or whatever. Not even two months, whereas Andrew had apparently been sure for years, even if he hadn't done much about it.
He looked in his cupboard and then the fridge, hoping to find something else to drink, but all he had was a couple of Butterbeers, and he didn't feel like going out in quest of anything. The off-licences were probably all closed by now, and he was in too rotten a mood to go to a pub and have to interact with people. He'd had quite enough of that already this evening.
"Bugger," Teddy muttered. He'd expected that he and Andrew would be having sex tonight--well, blow each other, at least. He guessed he was glad that they'd never quite reached the point of trying penetration. Or maybe if they had, Andrew would have felt differently? Don't second-guess, he told himself, reaching to adjust his cock, which seemingly didn't care that he was angry with Andrew and was reacting to the memory of Andrew's hot wet mouth. Well. He could always wank, he supposed. Maybe tonight was the night to experiment with the plugs that Remus had given him. Since the lessons had been put on hiatus, and he'd been seeing Andrew, he hadn't ever bothered to try them out.
The plugs and lube were tucked away in the same drawer where he'd stashed the magazine he'd bought at Prowler. Teddy pulled them out, biting his lip as he ran his fingers over the cool firm surfaces. Even with the lube they'd feel very different from a tongue. Throat tight, he repressed the memory of Andrew, of Remus, licking his arse.
He brought out the magazine, too, and flipped through it until he came to a spread that purported to demonstrate when went on in the locker room after a rugby game. He snorted, thinking of Andrew's protestations about his Quidditch teammates' reactions if they discovered his secret. If pornographic magazines were anything to be trusted, it seemed they'd all celebrate with an orgy.
Teddy snorted again and turned the pages until he came to another set of pictures showing a young man, about his own age, embracing a man who was old enough to be his father.
Fucking hell, okay, that was hot. Teddy glanced over his shoulder, knowing full well there wasn't anyone else in his flat but feeling guilty nonetheless. He quickly stripped off, leaving his clothes in a heap by his bed and stretching himself across it with the magazine, the smallest of his set of plugs, and the bottle of lube.
He stuffed a couple of pillows under his head so he could read--well, look, anyway--at a better angle, and he made sure the lube was nearby for when he'd ultimately need it. His cock was already stiffening, and he rolled the plug along its length, shivering and spreading his legs wider at the new sensation.
The first couple of pages of the spread were brilliant--photos of the older man taking off the clothes of the younger one, licking him all over as he did so, then spreading him over a wide bed--but the next ones were better than brilliant, Teddy thought. There was no accompanying text, but from the variety of activities the two men performed, it was almost as if the older man was meant to be--ohgod--teaching the younger one.
Teddy whined, his prick throbbing with need. He ignored it for a moment, however, and dragged a fingertip across his arsehole. He was going to be fucked tonight--maybe not by Remus, certainly not by Andrew, but he was going to have something big and hard in his arse, and that was all he cared about.
He rolled over onto his belly, propping the magazine up against his pillows, open to the best pictures of the bunch. In the first, the older man was spearing his tongue into the arsehole of the boy, who was arching his back, his mouth open, his eyes closed, his dark eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks. And in the second, the older man was actually guiding his cock into the boy's arsehole. Just the very tip was inside, and both participants had looks of utter bliss on their faces.
Yes, he wanted that, wanted something spreading him open, wanted to be slick inside, wanted to be penetrated. He couldn't have a cock, maybe, but he'd have something.
The plug glistened as he spread lube on it. Teddy held it in one hand, teasing his arsehole with the other. Remus had told him to be sure to use plenty of lube, he remembered, so he awkwardly squeezed out another glob of it onto his fingers and smoothed it into his arsehole, trying to relax the muscle enough for some to get well inside. Then he looked at the picture again as he brought the plug up against himself.
It might not be a Wizarding picture, which would have shown the two men actually moving, but Teddy's imagination was plenty good enough for this. His breath caught as he nudged the tip of the plug into his pucker, feeling the slight stretch, almost a burn. It was the smallest he had, but still bigger than a finger. Slowly. There was no need to rush. He took a long slow breath, another, relaxing as he exhaled, letting the plug creep into him millimetre by millimetre.
The lube had warmed quickly with his body heat, and once the broadest part of the plug had slipped inside, the rest of it slid home, the base nestling tight against him. Teddy groaned. Yes. He shifted, rubbing his prick against the sheets.
As he adjusted to the feeling of fullness, quite different from the way it had felt to have someone else's tongue there, he held on to the plug's base and pulled it out a couple of inches, then let it sink back in. God, that was good. His father had said that toys weren't as enjoyable as a real prick, but Teddy thought this was just fine, although the occasional squelching sound made him want to laugh.
I like to hear that laughter. Remus's words floated through his mind, and Teddy gulped, torn between the sensation that the plug was giving him, and the feeling that he'd cocked things up now both with Remus and with Andrew, in only a couple of weeks.
He'd figure something out. If Andrew wasn't willing to compromise a little--and Teddy wasn't asking him to act all poncy in public, or march in a parade, or anything, just to be willing to hold hands without jumping out of his skin--well, there were other blokes, right? Although he really did like Andrew, a lot.
And probably he could convince Remus to finish their lessons eventually too. Well, Remus had half-promised they would. Teddy just needed to be patient, that was all. He glanced at the picture of the two men, the older man's expression of bliss as he penetrated the younger. I could make Dad look that way, if he'd let me. The thought almost made Teddy come, and he hastily squeezed the base of his cock to prevent it. He wanted more time with the plug inside him, first.
Teddy wriggled, twisting the base of it, and then his eyes opened wide. Fuck, that must be his prostate, sending those tingles all through him.
He knelt up, then, wanting to feel that sensation again, wanting the plug deeper inside his arse. He felt a little ridiculous moving around on the bed with the plug sticking out of his arse while he tried to find a comfortable position where he could also see the magazine, but in another moment, that didn't matter, as he pushed the plug up into himself and it brushed his prostate again.
Teddy saw stars. His mouth gaped, and he did it again.
"Fuck," he gasped aloud, and he eyed the drawer where the other, larger plugs lay awaiting him.
No, he mustn't be greedy. Not yet. He'd start with the smallest, getting off with that in his arse, just as his father had suggested. It felt fucking brilliant, anyway, he thought, as he twisted it and pulled it out a little, then pushed it back in as slowly as he could.
His position was awkward; he felt as if he might fall on his face if the pleasure got too intense. He lay on his back, then, and yes, that was better. He couldn't see the magazine, but the picture was burned into his brain, and the sensation of the plug alone was enough to get him off, he was sure of it.
"Oh, fuck," he gasped, sliding the plug in and out of his arsehole, grazing his prostate every few strokes. He fisted his cock, too excited to take it slowly, his brain overwhelmed by the combination of the erotic photographs, the memory of his father, and the new fullness he was experiencing.
He choked and jerked himself harder, smearing his precome down the shaft and still working the plug in and out of his arse. The thought flashed across his mind that there was a spell he could use to keep it moving, but he wasn't about to stop and find his wand; he was too damned close to coming.
"Fuck, yes, yes," he chanted as he felt his climax approaching. He canted his hips up off the bed and pushed the plug in almost violently, pressing at the base of it to keep it buried inside him as deeply as possible while he came, decorating his belly with ropes of pearly spunk, gasping, crying out.
He rolled over and pressed his prick hard against the bed, rubbing the last of his orgasm out onto his sheets.
Oh, there was definitely something to this penetration thing.
As he slid the plug out, he decided that he'd been right to stick with the smallest one, because he did feel a little bit tender there now, after his enthusiastic self-fucking. Another time or two with this one, though, and he could try moving up, although this had been plenty good enough for tonight. He no longer wanted to punch the walls in his frustration with Andrew; instead he wished that he could share the pleasure he'd just had. If Andrew didn't think the whole idea of plugs was too weird. Teddy didn't know. Maybe he never would know, but he hoped so, although he still felt bitter at the way they'd quarrelled.
He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, yawning, then ambled down to the bathroom to wash off the plug and clean his teeth. When he came back to his bedroom, he found his wand and cleaned up the sheets--no reason to sleep in stickiness--before putting the plug away and climbing into bed. He flipped through the magazine again. There was another set of pictures, one he hadn't looked at before, featuring a young blond man all on his own, wearing a complicated leather harness and wanking himself. The boy in the pictures didn't really resemble Andrew very much, except for the fair hair, but Teddy imagined seeing Andrew in that position and shivered. He'd be gorgeous, with that unruly fringe flopping down across his eyes, his body arching. Next time, maybe, Teddy would look at these pictures. And he'd work out how to make the plug move on its own. He thought about possible spells, but was too tired after all that had happened to try any of them tonight.
Teddy set the magazine aside so he wouldn't fall asleep and crumple it accidentally, then curled up. Sleep eluded him, though. He kept thinking back to the argument with Andrew.
Was he being unreasonable? He didn't think so... but maybe he was asking too much, too soon? They'd only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, after all. Teddy thought about when he'd started going out with Victoire. There hadn't been the issue of whether their friends would think less of them, of course, but he'd kind of wanted to keep it private for a while, in case things didn't work out. Of course in the long run they hadn't, but it had lasted most of a year, which was pretty long for a school romance, really. Maybe part of Andrew's reluctance was for that sort of reason, the fear of admitting emotion too openly and looking a fool if it didn't work out.
Teddy chewed on his lip. He'd pretty much given Andrew an ultimatum before walking out. Not easy to go back on that. He rolled over, trying to find a position where he could relax, but his brain kept whirring on. He could wait a few days, anyhow, see if Andrew tried to get in touch. If not, in a week or so... well, maybe Teddy could think of some way to talk to him again without looking like he was totally giving in.
He tossed and turned for a while longer. Sleep was still elusive. He tried counting backwards from one thousand, but his mind kept drifting back to the end of his conversation with Andrew.
Please don't go, Andrew had said, but he hadn't done anything, dammit, to keep Teddy there. Teddy huffed and turned over. Andrew hadn't even stood up. Bastard.
Maybe if Teddy could make himself cross enough, he would feel a little better about how he'd acted, how abruptly he had stood and Apparated out of Andrew's living room. He flopped onto his stomach and sighed. No. No point getting himself worked up, not right now. All he needed was to get some sleep, and he could think about the situation as much as he liked the next day--or not. Maybe he'd go see what his dad was doing instead. Keep his mind off things.
Teddy smiled and curled up, bringing his knees to his chest. Yes, he'd show up at Remus's house, maybe drag his dad out--or maybe they could stay in. He didn't allow himself to think of the vague possibility of what the two of them might do if they stayed in--after all, Remus had made no indication that he was interested in starting the lessons again. Yet.
He wondered if his dad might even have some advice for him. Surely he was better at this dating thing than Teddy was--he was older and, in most cases, wiser, and Teddy thought he might have even had a boyfriend or two who had acted as Andrew did. Yes, Remus would know what to do.
Teddy yawned and turned over one last time and fell asleep, Remus on his mind.