There aren't many days until the wedding. It's all that anyone seems to talk about and preparations are keeping everyone so busy that Harry's not been at the Burrow for a full day, and he's already been given more projects than he feels like doing in a week, much less on a hot summer day. Besides, he's got more important things to think about. Mrs. Weasley isn't giving him any privacy, though, and it's been impossible to talk Ron and Hermione with orders being given every waking hour.
It isn't until late at night that he finally gets a chance to breathe. By that time, Ron's sleeping, which makes it difficult to think because the snoring is loud. There's so much to do, so much to think about, but Harry's tired of thinking. He kicks off the sheet and rolls out of bed. With a glare at Ron, he walks to the window and looks out across the lawn. Hermione has information, he knows, but there hasn't really been a chance to hear what she's discovered yet. Tomorrow, hopefully, Mrs. Weasley will be distracted.
Ron lets out a particularly loud snore, and Harry rolls his eyes. He rests his forehead against the window and sighs, fighting the restless urge that has kept him awake every night since he watched Dumbledore die. It's frustrating, wanting to go off and do something but not being able. There are things he could be doing. Instead, he's cleaning for a wedding and being kept busy like he's a silly child. Don't they know what he has to do? Don't they know that it's unlikely he'll even survive this bloody war?
A movement outside catches his attention. He tenses automatically but relaxes when he realizes that it's just Bill. He's not staying at the Burrow right now, not when Fleur is here getting ready for the wedding, but Harry figures he must have been visiting. He watches Bill stop walking and lean against the house, out of sight from the window. After a moment, Harry carefully opens the window and leans out. He's curious, he tells himself, but, really, he just kind of likes to watch Bill. Has since he first met him a few years ago, not that he's ever let anyone notice or anything.
Bill is cool, after all. Besides, he's the reason that Harry realized he might fancy blokes as well as girls, even if he still hasn't really accepted that yet. It's one thing to have fantasies that he wanked over, but another thing entirely to actually act on those thoughts. He doesn't know if he'll ever actually try to date another man, not when women were soft and curvy and smell so nice. Still, the chance to watch Bill for a little longer during a sleepless night is impossible to resist.
What he sees makes his eyes widen and his cock twitch. Bill is wanking. Bloody hell, he's got his cock in his hand right outside where anyone could see him if they looked out. And he doesn't seem worried about getting caught at all. Harry licks his lips as he leans further out the window, wanting to see more. It's hard to see much of anything this late at night, but there's moonlight and that's enough to give him some good glimpses of Bill's lean body and his cock.
He bites his lip, hard, and pushes his pajama bottoms down enough to free his cock. The bits that he can't see clearly are easy to make up, and he starts to roll his balls in his hand as he watches Bill. He doesn't dare close his eyes, so he tries to imagine the freckles on Bill's tan skin and the way his cock must be swollen and glistening. Bill is quiet, making no noises in the night air, but he's loud in Harry's mind. He's whimpering and cursing and moaning as he wanks.
It doesn't take long before Harry feels the familiar tension followed by the rush of pleasure. His hand is sticky, and he's dripping on the floor, but he doesn't care right now. He's still watching Bill and thinking about how he might taste, about how it might feel to take a cock into his mouth and suck it like he's heard girls do sometimes. When Bill comes, it's amazing. His back arches, his head is thrown back, and his come splashes onto the ground as he moves his hand faster and faster.
Harry realizes that he's nearly falling out the window and pulls himself back in, his cheeks heating up as he thinks about how bloody wrong this is and how he wishes he could do it again. Ron's still snoring, thankfully, and he lets out a shaky breath as he runs his dry hand through his hair. He looks out the window once more and sees Bill standing a short distance from the house, not looking at all like he just wanked in his parents' garden. Harry blinks when Bill tilts his head back and looks straight up at Ron's window. Bill waves at him, which causes Harry to step back quickly.
Only, he forgets that his pajama bottoms are around his knees, so he loses balance and falls on his bum. Ron stops snoring, and Harry quickly wipes up the mess he made with the bottom of his pajama top while trying to pull his bottoms up. "Oi, alright, mate?" Ron asks in a sleep-heavy voice.
"Yeah. Just fell. Off the bed." Harry cringes at the badly told lie, but Ron makes a noise before he shifts and is soon snoring again. Bloody hell. That was close. He sighs and finishes cleaning up before he crawls into his bed. As he lies there staring at the dark ceiling above him, he can't help smiling as he thinks about what just happened. Seems like maybe Bill doesn't mind being watched, after all.
End
Sleepless
Story Notes:
7/25/08