Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: snegurochka_lee
From: gracerene

Title: Home for the Holidays
Characters/Pairings: Charlie Weasley/James Sirius Potter
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Incest, Penetration, First Time
Other Warnings/Content: uncle/nephew incest, virgin!James, pansexual Charlie, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom James, James is 18, some dirty talk
Word Count: ~4,200
Summary/Description: Charlie was expecting a normal holiday season at home, surrounded by food, laughter, and the warm embrace of family. He didn't count on James taking that last bit quite so literally.
Author's Notes: Happy December, lovely prompter! I adored your prompt, and I hope you enjoy the direction I took it in! <3



Charlie took another deep pull of his mum's famous Christmas punch and settled back into one of the comfortable, oversized chairs in the living room. He let the boisterous noise of chatter and laughter wash over him. This was his first time back home in nearly three years now, and as rowdy as the dragon trainers in Romania could be, they didn't hold a candle to a Weasley family reunion. The holidays had always been a merry affair growing up, but now that his siblings were all married with children of their own, the cheerful chaos had reached World Cup levels of intensity.

Charlie had so many nieces and nephews, it was hard to keep track of who was who, particularly since they all seemed to have done some serious growing since the last time he'd seen them. Fred had an eyebrow piercing and dyed-black hair, Dominique's form was filling out quite rapidly, and young Lucy had just started her first year at Hogwarts. Three years was a long time when it came to children and teenagers. Charlie's gaze lingered on James, and his neck prickled. A very long time.

Puberty had been more than kind to young James, and he looked far more mature than his barely eighteen years should suggest. He was no longer the lanky, somewhat awkward boy of fifteen Charlie remembered. No, now he had broad shoulders, clear, tanned skin, and a charming smile that no doubt had the witches more than willing to drop their knickers. Of course, Charlie had a feeling that James wasn't so much interested in the witches.

James caught his eye and that lovely smile spread across his face, his cheeks tinged with the faintest pink. It could just be from the glass of punch James had in his hand, but this was far from the first time James had flushed beneath Charlie's stare. It made Charlie have to try very hard not to imagine what that flush would look like on the rest of James's skin. Which was no easy task, particularly given that James looked like he'd be more than willing—eager, even—to let Charlie find out.

Charlie held in a frustrated sigh. Truth be told, he liked the boy. He was funny and bright, with a very Weasley sense of humour. James loved Quidditch, found dragons fascinating, and the conversation between him and Charlie always flowed easily. It was everything else that was difficult. James had spent the past week following Charlie around at every opportunity, hanging off his every word, and looking at Charlie with a hungry, naked desire that would have made a lesser man feel wicked and dirty. Well, it made Charlie feel that, too, but pervert that he was, Charlie kind of liked it. If he were honest, Charlie was surprised nobody else in the family had noticed James's overly fond gaze, but they all seemed content to pass it off as hero worship and leave it be—though not without taking the mickey of course. Charlie knew better.

He'd had his share of men and women, and he was well aware of what that look in James's eye signified. Charlie knew James's regard was far from innocent, just as he knew that he should discourage the lad, lest he get his hopes up and his heart broken.

Except.

Except Charlie had never been one to turn down the attention of a gorgeous bird or bloke, and there was no doubt that James Sirius Potter was gorgeous. He was a little younger than Charlie usually went for—though Charlie had never been too fussed about age past a certain point of legality—but he couldn't deny that the attention was flattering. Charlie didn't usually have a problem pulling, and he knew his thick muscles, broad hands, and scarred and tattooed arms had a certain kind of appeal. Still, he was getting up there in years, and the fact that somebody as young and attractive as James, with his golden skin, Quidditch-toned thighs, and cheeks that dimpled when he smiled, wanted Charlie...well, it was flattering.

James took a sip of his punch, the liquid shining on his lips for a moment before he licked it off. Charlie felt an uncomfortable shiver deep in his belly.

He wondered if James was still a virgin.

Attractive as he was, Charlie couldn't imagine he didn't have his pick of witches and wizards alike. He'd likely had sex before, but something told Charlie he'd never been fucked, never let anybody stick their cock up his arse. Merlin, it was bad enough Charlie was thinking about it, let alone the fact that his prick was beginning to stir at the thought.

Charlie had always loved fucking virgins.

His mates back on the reserve always gave him a hard time about it, never understanding why he didn't prefer a more experienced lay. They all just wanted to get in, get off, and get out. Charlie understood the appeal, certainly, and he wasn't exactly the type to stick around long term, but there was something about being somebody's first that got Charlie's blood pumping like nothing else. Sliding into a tight arse or fanny, watching his partner's face as they took somebody inside their body for the first time...it was an indescribable rush. He loved seeing that moment of euphoric surprise when the pain melted into pleasure, when the tide turned and his partners became desperate and eager as they writhed on his cock. As he got older, it became much more difficult to indulge that particular kink of his. There weren't a lot of virgins looking for a fifty-something to pop their cherry.

Charlie shook his head and took another pull from his mug, the warm spiced alcohol filling him with a cosy warmth. He shouldn't be thinking about that here. He shouldn't be thinking about it, period. The boy was his nephew for fuck's sakes, and barely legal. He could flirt a little, but he certainly couldn't go any further. Ginny and Harry would skin him alive if he did anything else. He looked across the room where Harry was doing a very drunken impression of what Charlie could only assume was the Giant Squid. Well, Ginny would skin him at least. Harry would probably be too busy sleeping off the no doubt massive hangover that was headed his way.

Charlie managed to pass the rest of the night without incident. He avoided sweets offered by George's children—he assumed they'd been recruited by their dad to incite mischief—and laughed along with the rest of the family when they persuaded Ron to try a biscuit that made him speak entirely in limericks for the next hour. He let his mum lament Charlie's lack of a spouse for twenty long minutes until his dad came to his rescue. He let James—who was well into his cups—flirt with him shamelessly, and he grinned and winked right back at him, much to James's combined delight and nervous embarrassment. He attempted conversation with Harry and Ginny, but Harry had drank a little too freely of Molly's punch, and Charlie thought it was frankly a miracle that he was still standing on his own.

All in all it was a good night, a great Christmas Eve spent with family. His brothers and sisters and their children began to clear out around midnight, Flooing back to their homes for the night before they returned for Christmas breakfast the next day. Charlie was staying in his old room in the Burrow, so he waved them all off with a tired smile.

"Oh no you don't, mister," Ginny's voice rang out near the Floo. Charlie looked over in time to see her grab the back of Harry's emerald sweater, tugging him away from the flames. "You are far too drunk to Floo home. You'll end up in the basement of some moldy old store and we'll waste half the night looking for you."

Harry blinked over at her slowly, clearly not comprehending. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but her expression was fond. "You're staying here with your delinquent son. There's plenty of space for you two, and we'll be back in the morning anyway."

"M'son?"

Ginny hooked a thumb towards James, looking happy and red-faced as he lay across one of the sofas. "James here decided to follow your example. Tomorrow we can have a long conversation about responsible drinking, but that can wait until you sleep it off."

Harry grinned happily at her, and Ginny smiled softly back, leaning in to kiss his cheek before following Lily and Albus through the flames.

"All right, Harry, James, let's get you two settled, shall we?" Molly said briskly. She'd also drank quite liberally from her punch bowl, but the only sign of her inebriation was the bright red flush of her cheeks and the slight wobble in her step as she climbed the steps. "We'll put you up in Fred and George's old room. We still—" There was a quick breath of silence, still painful even after twenty years. "We still have the twin beds up there."

Charlie followed after them, calling up goodnight when they reached his floor, right below where James and Harry would be staying. He caught a glimpse of James's face, his expression seeming suddenly clear and sober and utterly content. But then Charlie was in his room, and he pushed it from his mind. James had already taken up far too many of his thoughts that night.

He readied himself for bed, changing into a pair of comfortable sleep pants and forgoing a shirt entirely. Even in the dead of winter he couldn't bring himself to sleep in a shirt. Something about it felt too restricting. He had just settled back on the bed, his hand massaging his groin as he worked himself up for what promised to be a truly spectacular wank, when there was a light knock at the door.

Charlie growled. He'd been worked up all day and he was looking forward to finally having some alone time to take care of the arousal simmering under his skin. It was probably just his mum wanting to check in before she went to bed. With any luck it would be quick.

He crossed the cold wooden floor and flung open the door, shocked to find that it wasn't Molly, but James, who was standing outside his door. James was wearing an old tartan dressing gown that went to his knees, and his calves and feet were bare. Charlie's traitorous brain wondered if the rest of James was bare beneath the gown.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Charlie said, swinging the door open wider and stepping aside to let James in. He brushed against Charlie as he entered, smelling like cinnamon and cloves. Charlie's mouth watered.

"What can I do for you, James?"

"Close the door?"

Charlie's brows rose, but he shut the door with an audible click. He looked at James meaningfully. James took a deep breath, fiddled with his dressing gown, and a moment later the fabric was slipping off his frame to pool on the floor. Well, that certainly answered Charlie's earlier errant thought—James was most definitely completely bare beneath the robe.

Charlie couldn't help himself; he looked. Smooth tanned skin seemed to glow in the low candlelight, the light and shadow playing over firm muscles and tight flesh. James's cock was already half-hard and getting harder beneath Charlie's gaze. Fuck, but he was all grown up. Charlie felt his own prick twitch beneath the thin fabric of his pants, and all he wanted to do was turn the boy around so he could get a proper look at what Charlie knew was a phenomenal arse.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, massaging his temples for a moment before gritting out, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"It's an early Christmas present."

Charlie choked back a hysterical laugh. "For you or for me?"

James grinned that cocky, belly-flipping smile. "Can't it be both?"

Charlie groaned. "You're drunk, James."

"No, I'm not."

"Your mum seemed to think otherwise."

James shrugged. "I was faking. I overheard her tell Dad that she would leave him here overnight if he kept drinking like a fish. Seemed like an easy way to stay, too."

Charlie looked at James assessingly. "That was quite the little plan. You sure you're not a Slytherin?"

James pulled a face, but it wasn't long before that cocky smile was back, undercut with just the faintest hint of nervousness. "Nah, I'm pure Gryffindor. Question is...are you? I mean, I've been looking at you all week, and I know you've been looking back. You brave enough to show me what you've got?"

The bold challenge ignited the lust swimming through Charlie's veins, setting his blood alight and making the attraction pulsing between them impossible to ignore. Charlie had never been able to turn down a challenge, especially not when it promised such lovely rewards.

"All right, lad, why don't you do a spin for me. Slowly."

A visible shiver of anticipation travelled through James's frame before he complied, turning in place. He paused for a moment when his back was fully to Charlie, giving Charlie an extra second to admire the perfect rounded curves of his perky arse, before he completed the spin.

Charlie gripped himself, massaging his growing bulge. James's eyes followed the movement eagerly.

"You ever been fucked?"

James paused in hesitation, before saying, "No. Why do you think I'm here?"

"You want me to fuck you? Want me to stick my prick up that virgin arse of yours?"

James shivered and licked his lips. "Yeah," he breathed.

Charlie's hardening cock fully hardened in an instant, and all rational thought fell completely away. Fuck it. He wanted it, James wanted it, and that was all that really mattered.

He crossed the room in two large strides, pulled James to him, and kissed him hard on the mouth. James kissed back like he was starving for it, a little clumsy, but no less scorching. His mouth moved against Charlie's, hot and wet and eager. He opened up beneath Charlie's rough onslaught, taking everything Charlie had and begging wordlessly for more. Oh, Charlie had more for him all right.

He practically threw James back onto his bed, taking a moment to admire his gorgeous form sprawled naked across his old bed, before descending on him. Charlie grabbed his wand off the nightstand and conjured up some lube. James’s eyes went wide, but not with fear. Excitement. He spread his legs farther apart, so eager for it Charlie could hardly believe it.

"You ever finger yourself?"

James bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, a couple of times when I've had the privacy."

Charlie coated his finger in the slick substance. "You like it?"

Another nod.

"I'm gonna make you love it."

Jame's entire body shuddered, though whether it was from Charlie's words, or the fact that he'd begun to circle James's rim with an oiled finger, Charlie couldn't say. Probably both.

He pushed his finger inside, the wet heat of James's arse gripping him in a silken vice. Oh, the boy was tight, even tighter than Charlie had been expecting. Anticipation built steady in his groin, little eager thrills radiating down through his thighs and up his spine at the thought of what was to come. But not yet.

"You need to relax for me sweetheart. Just let me in."

As he spoke, Charlie lowered his head and delivered a broad, wet lick to the underside of James's cock, pressed hard and red against James's stomach. James's entire body tensed even further for a brief moment, nearly crushing Charlie's finger, before he went completely lax. His body seemed to melt into the mattress as Charlie continued to lick at James's cock and began to move his finger.

It wasn't long before Charlie had worked up to two, then three digits, plunging and twisting them into James's slick arsehole. James writhed and arched into them, his own fingers flexing against Charlie's faded maroon sheets, and his pretty red mouth open in a stream of ragged pants. Charlie's mind flashed to Harry, snoring soundly just up the stairs, completely oblivious to what his eldest son what getting up to. Merlin, he would probably kill Charlie dead for what he was doing, for what he was about to do. The thought should have brought Charlie to his senses, should have made him see reason and call a stop to this madness. Instead, it only made lust bubble and froth madly in his gut. Charlie curled his fingers and rubbed insistently against James's prostate.

James moaned, long and loud and sinfully sexy, his entire body twitching and shuddering at the deluge of pleasure. Something base and primal in Charlie's chest purred with satisfaction. As hot of the idea of almost being caught was, though, Charlie wasn't actually suicidal.

"Shhh, baby. Your daddy can't know you're here."

James's eyelids fluttered open and he groaned, though it was quieter this time. "Silencing spell."

Charlie grinned and shrugged. "I'm utter shit at Silencing spells. They always dissolve in a couple of minutes. Easier not to bother with them and just keep quiet. You any good at them?"

James moaned a little as Charlie continue working him over, nodding his head, then shaking it in quick succession. "I am but—m'wand's upstairs."

Charlie supposed bringing his wand hadn't been at the top of James's list when he'd decided to sneak down to Charlie's room, naked but for a flimsy dressing gown. He shrugged and flashed James a filthy grin as he pulled his digits out of James's arse and swirled his fingertips along James's rim. "I guess you'll just have to be a good boy and stay quiet. Think you can do that for me?"

A hot flush made its way over James's already fevered skin, heating the tan to a lovely deep, dusky rose. James shook his head, the auburn strands already starting to stick to his sweaty forehead. "Yeah, I can do that. Just—fuck, just get in me already."

Charlie chuckled as he reached up near James's head and grabbed one of his lumpy pillows. With a little prodding, he managed to shove it under James's arse, propping him up at the perfect angle. "So impatient. Don't worry, Jamie. I'm going to give you what you want."

He settled back on his haunches, slicking himself up with some more lube before positioning the head of his cock at James's entrance. He rubbed himself against James's rim for a moment, before the tease got to be too much for James. Strong thighs wrapped around Charlie's waist as James's feet dug into Charlie's arse and pulled him forward.

Charlie's cock met the tight resistance of James's arse until he finally pushed past the rim and began to sink slowly inside. James's legs squeezed tighter around Charlie's waist, and his face screwed up in pain. Charlie paused, brushing his palms up and down the outside of James's hairy thighs.

"It's all right, just breathe, baby. Try to relax your muscles. Push out as I press in."

James drew in a tremulous breath. "Okay, I—" Another breath, this one deeper, steadier, and Charlie felt the iron grip of James's arse ease a fraction. "I'm good, you can keep going."

Charlie took him at his word and began to press further inside. "Don't worry, it'll get better once you adjust."

James nodded, chest still rising and falling wildly with his rapid breaths. The curve of James's arse nestled into the cradle of Charlie's groin, and Charlie couldn't help but let out a quiet moan at the feeling of pure bliss. "You feel that, Jamie? That's it, I'm all the way inside."

James looked up at him with wide glassy eyes. He looked gorgeous and filthy already, laid out across Charlie's bed, panting and mewling as he got used to the feeling of Charlie's not-inconsiderable length in his arse.

Charlie waited. As desperately as he wanted to thrust, he was no longer some eager teenager with a hair trigger and zero control over his body. Charlie could wait until James gave him the go ahead.

He didn't have to wait long.

Charlie saw the moment when the pain began to fade to something less immediate and sharp, and James's curiosity and Gryffindor bravery demanded he push forward. He wriggled, arching his back experimentally and feeling Charlie out. Charlie took his cue and began to rock his hips slow and shallow, watching James's face for any sign of discomfort.

James didn't look uncomfortable. "Oh, Merlin," he moaned on a shaky exhale, pleasure blooming across his expression like spilled ink on parchment. "Come on, Charlie, I want you to give it to me."

"I am giving it to you," Charlie replied with an easy roll of his hips.

James shook his head. "No, you're not. Fuck me like you mean it."

Charlie knew James was just trying to wind him up and goad him into action, but Charlie felt himself responding anyway. He growled low in his throat, dug his fingers into the delicious muscle of James's arse, and began to thrust.

His aim was true, if the way James squealed and arched with electrified pleasure was any indication. Charlie maintained the angle, his cock brushing against James's prostate as Charlie fucked him. James went wild with it, his body moving to meet Charlie's thrusts, his hands grabbing at whatever bit of Charlie they could reach. Charlie was right there with James, losing himself in the clutching heat of James's fantastic arse, in James's lust-blown eyes, in the fucked-out little noises that escaped from James's throat with every grind of their hips.

They moved together until sweat began to trickle down Charlie's neck and pleasure vibrated through his every cell. His orgasm was so close he could practically taste it, sticky and sweet on the back of his tongue. James was clearly riding a knife's-edge as well, his thick cock dark and drooling against his stomach.

Charlie reached down and wrapped a calloused hand around James’s prick. He continued to thrust as he pumped once, twice, and then James was spilling all over his stomach, erupting in a geyser of pearly white. Not long after, Charlie followed, the welcoming clench of James's arse drawing his orgasm from him with a satisfied groan.

James shivered as Charlie pulled out, and his legs fell back on the bed in a boneless sprawl to match the rest of his limp body. His breath was beginning to slow down and even out, though his expression hadn't lost the look of overwhelmed bliss, tinged with the faintest edge of shock.

"You all right there?"

James managed to pull out his cocky smile, though it was a little punch-drunk around the edges. "Never better." He stretched out his limbs in an unfairly arousing display of youthful elasticity before pulling himself off the bed and reaching for his dressing gown on the floor. "Cleaning spell?"

Charlie quirked a smile before reaching for his wand and casting a cleaning spell at James and then himself. James grinned his thanks before stepping close, leaning down to give Charlie a filthy, thorough kiss. Charlie's prick made a valiant effort to stiffen up again.

And then James was gone, stepping back, sliding on his robe, and slipping out the door without a sound. Charlie stared at the door for several minutes after he left, contemplating what in the hell had just happened.

When Charlie had decided to go home for the holidays, he'd expected to be surrounded by family, food, and familiarity. He'd certainly not expected to have some seriously fantastic sex with a gorgeously eager young virgin. Who happened to be his nephew. Merlin help him.

Charlie had just deflowered young James in his family home, in his childhood bedroom, with James's dad sleeping right up the stairs. Fuck, what had he been thinking? An image of James standing naked in his room, candlelight flickering over his smooth, firm skin flashed through Charlie's mind. Ahh, yes, that's what he'd been thinking.

Charlie settled into bed, extinguishing the candle with a wave of his hand. He would have to be up in less than eight hours for Christmas breakfast, when all of his siblings and nieces and nephews gathered at the Burrow once more. His mind drifted to thoughts of James at the table, sitting across from Charlie with that lovely blush. James's arse was sure to be a little tender, and every time he fidgeted or winced, Charlie would be reminded of what they'd done, of the bone-melting pleasure of James's hot little arse wrapped around his cock.

Charlie groaned and forced himself to focus on something else, on the delicious breakfast his mum would be preparing, instead of the delicious boy he'd just had in his bed. He closed his eyes, and pretended he wasn't wondering if he'd seen the last of James's naked, eager body. After all, he still had another seven days until he returned to Romania.