Bill Weasley in the Beauxbaton Flying Carriage with a Chocolate Frog Card Title: Carried Away Author:alisanne Character: Bill Weasley Location: Beauxbatons’ flying carriage Object: chocolate frog card Other Characters: Surprise! Rating: R Warnings: Other than the obvious, you mean? AU, I suppose. Word Count: 1250 Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. Nothing you recognize is mine. Author's Notes: Endless thanks to my beta reader, who shall remain nameless for the moment in the interests of anonymity, and to our wonderful wanking mods, who provided us all with a stellar opportunity to practice some self love. ;)
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Carried Away
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“Eef eet ees your weesh, your fantasy, Bill then of course you may use eet.” Fleur shoved him in the direction of the carriage. “Enjoy, mon ami.”
Nodding his thanks, Bill climbed into the carriage and shut the door. To his surprise, there was a lot more room in there than he would have thought. Wizard space, he realized immediately. Which of course made sense, since they’d had to fit about a dozen students in this thing when they’d come to Hogwarts that first time.
There was more than enough room to move about comfortably, and Bill sampled several seats before selecting one that fit his purpose.
That Fleur had allowed him free reign with the Beauxbatons carriage the day before she was to return to France in it was nothing short of miraculous, although he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. They’d both realized fairly quickly that they were not compatible, their break up had been amicable enough, and now they were dear friends.
When Bill had confided that his attraction swung towards men, Fleur had simply smiled that enigmatic smile of hers and nodded. She’d seen his most prized possession one night and hadn’t teased; she’d just got a thoughtful look on her face and asked if perhaps the real thing might not be better than a fantasy.
Bill had ignored her, but they were good enough friends that he knew she was planning something; he only hoped it wouldn’t be too embarrassing, whatever it was.
When he’d asked to use the carriage, she’d agreed immediately. He imagined she knew exactly what he’d wanted to do in it, lack of privacy being what it was in the Burrow, yet she’d still let him have it.
Bill found himself wishing British wizards would emulate the French, at least in their relaxed attitude toward sexual matters, then he smiled, imagining his mother’s reaction if she realized what he was about to do.
Settling into the comfortable, red leather seat, Bill leaned back, spreading his legs wide. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out the dog-eared, chocolate frog card he’d been carrying around ever since the end of the war a few months earlier and propped it up on the seat facing him.
The occupant of the card was smiling and waving, his friendly, animated face looking up at Bill. The brown eyes framed by long lashes focussed on Bill’s hands as they moved to undo his robes, and the smile faltered, then died, the brown eyes going wide.
Bill simply smiled. “Going to stick around long enough to watch the show?” he asked as he shucked the rest of his kit.
The man on the card licked his lips but didn’t move out of sight, in fact, he seemed to lean forward as if he hoped to get a better view. Bill inhaled sharply.
Now naked, he ran a teasing hand up his inner thigh before lightly tracing the shape of his semi-erect cock with his index finger. Exhaling a shuddering breath, he bit his bottom lip and grasped his prick firmly, stroking up and down lightly. “Wish you... were here with me,” he moaned in the general direction of the card.
Eyes at half mast, Bill fisted his cock and began pumping in earnest, thrusting up into the tight channel he’d made with his hand. About every other pass he swiped his thumb over the slit, spreading the seeping moisture in order to make his movements smoother and easier.
With his other hand, he reached between his legs and cupped his sac, rolling his bollocks, his breath hitching as he did so. A distant squeak made Bill fully open his eyes to see the man in the card watching, his mouth open.
“Like what you see?” Bill gasped as he sped up his movements. “If you were here you could be sucking me right now.”
The man on the card’s eyes seemed glued to Bill’s cock, and Bill grinned, a feral light entering his eyes. Lifting his leg, Bill placed his heel up on the seat, opening himself up further. “Or even better,” he moaned, the hand that had been rolling his balls slipping further back now that he had more room, “you could be helping me do this.”
Tilting his hips up, Bill ran his finger around his hole. “Lubricious,” he whispered, slipping it inside once the spell had made him moist enough. “You could be fucking me right now,” he groaned towards the card, voice breaking on the words. “Slipping your prick inside me, making me yours.”
Bill rocked into his hand and back onto his fingers, caught in the throes of pleasure as he imagined what it would be like if the man on the card were there with him, fondling him, fucking him hard...
With a low cry, Bill shuddered and came, spurting his seed over his hands and the red leather, his back arching hard and his body rigid as his muscles seized with pleasure.
Once done, he slumped back onto the seat, breathing rapidly, sticky and sated. When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of the man in the card, whose palms were pressed against flat the front of the card as if he were looking at Bill though a window. As Bill watched, he sighed and closed his eyes, his forehead hitting the front of the card. He seemed a bit breathless, too.
Bill smiled, and after a Cleansing Spell, he reached for the card, his calloused finger stroking it tenderly. Bill sighed and reread the words printed on it. He probably could have recited them from memory.
Neville Longbottom: The hero of Hogwarts, Longbottom rallied the students of Britain’s most elite wizarding school during its darkest year, when it was under the control of He Who Must Not Be Named. Mr. Longbottom is widely acclaimed as one of the bravest wizards of his era; his role in killing the vicious creature Nagini using the legendary Sword of Gryffindor is cited as a pivotal moment of the war. He is currently in training to become an Herbologist, and it widely believed he is responsible for the renewed interest in this previously unpopular course of study.
“My hero,” Bill murmured before putting the card away.
Looking around, Bill checked to see that the place was as clean as he’d found it before leaving. It was quite bright when he opened the door to step down, and so he was a bit blind, thus explaining his surprise when someone clasped his arm.
“Bill Weasley?” a warm voice asked.
Bill stiffened. “Yes?” he replied hoarsely, blinking furiously in an attempt to see.
“I’m Neville Longbottom. We’ve met a couple of times? Anyway, I’m told you’re the man to speak with about curse breaking, and I’ve an old mansion that could use your services.”
Bill hoped he wasn’t gaping. “Yes, I think I can help you,” he said, clasping Neville’s hand firmly.
To his surprise and pleasure, Neville blushed. “Wonderful,” he said, looking up at Bill through those deliciously long eyelashes.
Was he flirting? Bill watched as Neville coloured at his close scrutiny. He was still holding Neville’s hand, and it didn’t look as if Neville wanted to reclaim it any time soon. His grip tightened and Neville simply moved closer.
Bill glanced towards the Burrow, spotting a grinning Fleur before she turned away. She probably arranged this somehow, he thought as he escorted Neville towards the house. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. After all, it looked as if she’d made his true fantasy come true.