Inell's Fanfiction Archive

The worst thing about being at the Burrow this summer had to be sharing a room. Normally, Harry liked having people around. The dorms at Hogwarts were always loud and noisy, which was such a contrast to his quiet solitary childhood. The Burrow was usually like that, so full of life and noise that he never felt alone. At night, though, it was different.

The house was quiet, seeming to sleep with the family. Muffling charms kept rooms silent so he’s even more aware of the few sounds that disturb the stillness. Ron was snoring and usually slept deeply, but Harry couldn’t help thinking that he’d wake up instantly if he dared try to wank. While they knew they both wank, it just wasn’t something Harry wanted to get caught doing. At school, there were curtains around his bed and a charm could keep people from hearing him. Here, the house was so still that he thought the entire household would wake at the sound of his hand sliding up and down his cock.

So he lay in bed night after night and tossed and turned and tried to think of Hagrid naked and other things that definitely lessened his arousal. Only, it was getting worse tonight because nothing was taking away the erection that seemed to have been present since that afternoon. It was all Charlie’s fault, he thought crossly. If he hadn’t been degnoming the garden without his shirt, Harry wouldn’t have been struck dumb with a wave of arousal that had him even more desperate to wank than a normal night.

It was Ron’s older brother, which was really kind of creepy. While Harry wasn’t a Weasley, he’d felt adopted by the family since he was eleven and should not be having these feelings about Charlie. Okay, so there had been a slight crush on Bill during fourth year, but it hadn’t been like this. Harry hadn’t ever felt like this, not even with Ginny. He wasn’t surprised that he found a guy attractive. He and Hermione had had a talk about that sort of thing a couple of years ago and she’d assured him that it wasn’t wrong and that Muggles even had a name for it: bisexuality. But it was Charlie and he was Ron’s brother and that was just wrong.

Of course, it didn’t feel wrong when Harry remembered the freckled muscular back and the bright ink that had made up a large dragon tattoo on Charlie’s right shoulderblade. It certainly didn’t feel wrong when he closed his eyes and saw broad shoulders and a firm belly that had practically rippled when Charlie had tossed a gnome off to the side of the garden.

Freckles, burns, and tattoos had covered all that gorgeous bare skin, and Harry had watched sweat drip down Charlie’s chest into the thin line of red hair that had been visible above the waist of his jeans, which had ridden so low on his hips that Harry hadn’t been able to stop wishing they’d fall just a little lower so he could see if his suspicion about Charlie’s lack of pants was true.

He turned his head into the pillow and groaned as his cock throbbed even more. This was not what he needed to think about when he was trying to resist the urge to wank. Ron snorted in his sleep and then let out a loud snore as he shifted on the bed next to Harry’s. Soon, he was snoring again and his mattress squeaked slightly as if he were humping it while dreaming, which would normally have made Harry smile and given him fodder for teasing in the morning, as chances were that Ron was dreaming about shagging. Instead, Harry was so tense and aroused that he couldn’t even snicker at his best friend’s antics.

It was too hot to relax. How was he supposed to stop thinking about Charlie’s half naked body and his firm arse and the friendly smile that made his lips even more full and the way his eyes darkened when he was besting Hermione in a debate and proving he wasn’t all muscle and no intelligence and the way he smelled like spice and wood and fire and other things Harry couldn’t quite place but still made him so hard and...He frowned as he realized that he'd forgotten what he was mentally whining about.

“Gah,” Harry muttered as his eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling above. Nothing was helping. He finally quietly rolled out of bed and crept to the door. He’d go to the loo and wank until his cock was raw, he decided. Maybe then he could actually get some sleep.

Hermione would kill him if she knew he wasn’t resting. They were leaving soon, after all, as Bill and Fleur’s wedding was just over a week away, and he needed to get mentally ready, which didn’t include having wicked impure thoughts about his best friend’s older brother. There was a time and a place for dirty thoughts and, unfortunately, this just wasn’t it. He needed to focus on saving the bloody world, not wanking to thoughts of sucking Charlie’s cock.

The house was so quiet that he was hesitant to walk down the hall to the loo. If he stepped on a squeaky floorboard, the whole house would probably wake up and find him standing there with an erection that was about to rip through the thin cotton of his pants. He was a Gryffindor, though, and surely facing a squeaky floorboard wasn’t as dangerous as facing Voldemort. He bit his lip to keep from snickering at the image of facing Voldemort brandishing his erection like a weapon, and then rolled his eyes at his obvious lack-of-sleep thoughts.

Finally, he just took a deep breath and rushed down the hall to the loo. He stepped inside and shut the door with a triumphant smile. There. That wasn’t so bad after all. He didn’t waste time once he was there. Harry leaned against the lavatory and pulled his pants down around his thighs. His cock was ridiculously hard and bounced in front of him as he shifted into a comfortable position for a good wank. He closed his eyes and thought about Charlie in the garden as he reached down and wrapped his fingers around himself.

In his mind, Charlie was naked and stroking a cock that far too wide and long to be real, but fit well in Harry’s imagination. Charlie was watching him and saying the filthiest things Harry could think of, which made him stroke his cock faster. He almost wished Ron hadn’t told him that Charlie had a dirty mouth when he was hanging around his brothers or people from the Colony. It just made him even more appealing, if that was possible, and Harry began to pant as he heard Charlie call him a whore and cock sucker and all sorts of other things he’d heard older students say when they didn’t think he was listening.

“Need some help with that?”

Harry’s eyes flew open at the amused murmur and he whined as he saw Charlie leaning against the closed door watching him. He came almost instantly, shuddering as he spilled on his hand and the floor, coming harder than he ever had before. He gasped and stared wide-eyed at Charlie, blushing horribly at getting caught and hoping that he’d not accidentally muttered Charlie’s name during his wanking.

“Guess not,” Charlie said with a smirk as his gaze moved over Harry in a way that made his skin tingle and his cock twitch despite the orgasm he’d just experienced. Harry watched as Charlie pushed his pants down and let his cock spring free. It was hard and thick and not as long as Harry had imagined but he couldn’t look away from the sight of it bobbing there surrounded by ginger curls. Charlie arched a brow and lazily spread his legs as he ran his hand over his cock. “Wanna help me, Harry?”

His mouth went dry and there was a roaring in his ears and he wasn’t sure he’d understood what Charlie had asked. How could he think when there was all that naked muscular flesh and that cock and that smirk and…Harry licked his lips and met Charlie’s gaze. He slowly crossed the small space and nodded before he moved to his knees. “I like to help,” he murmured as Charlie’s fingers moved into his hair. He opened his mouth and let Charlie guide him and teach him, knowing that this was a night he wouldn’t forget.

End