Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Charlie was soaked all the way through by the time he made it back to the house. Charms had never been his strength, unfortunately, and he’d gone completely blank when he’d tried to remember the name of the charm that would keep him dry. If he was going to be forced to stay in England much longer, he’d have to look the blasted thing up since it rained All The Fucking Time here.

He shrugged off his coat and hung it up, stepping through the puddle of water that had formed around him when he’d come inside as he walked into the sitting room. “Evening, Professor,” he said with a friendly smile that had begun to fade after three long weeks stuck with the sour old bastard. He’d tried to approach the assignment with a sense of humor because it was the only way he could usually handle stuff like this.

Give him dragons to tame and he was in his element. He knew dragons, knew magical creatures, and he was confident about his abilities. Give him some miserable old git to babysit and keep out of Voldemort’s clutches and he was completely lost. He was strong and knew enough hexes to protect himself, but it was scary to have someone else’s life depending on him.

He didn’t know much about the war because he’d been off in Romania since he left Hogwarts. He visited when he could but, well, he’d chosen Romania because he’d wanted to make a life for himself and be on his own. His visits were few and far between, and less in the past few years. Owls from home kept him informed but he’d learned that his mum censored the owls and had really been keeping him in the dark for years. He’d been shocked to get the owl about Bill’s injuries and to come home to a world that was rather chaotic and so changed from the last time he’d visited just a few years ago.

When he’d been asked to guard his former Potions professor, he’d agreed automatically. Bill was permanently scarred, Percy had distanced himself from the family, the twins were dealing with the knowledge that their products had been used in the attack that had hurt Bill and resulted in Dumbledore’s death, Ron had been dealing with stuff no one should deal with, much less a kid his age, and Ginny was in love with a boy that was destined to be a hero and a murderer. Charlie had known it was time to stop hiding away in Romania and do his part. If that meant possibly dying by protecting someone his mum deemed worthy of saving, so be it.

The sofa creaked when he sat down and he ran his fingers through his wet hair as he tried to get somewhat comfortable. The small house was sparsely furnished, the furniture older than him, and he figured they were the first people to step foot inside the ramshackle old cottage in decades. He’d cleaned when they first arrived, but had only bothered with the few rooms they’d actually be using. There was still some dust and spots on the carpet in the sitting room, but he’d not bothered to find the more powerful cleaning charms to get those.

“Do stop your fidgeting.”

The crisp command pulled Charlie from his thoughts. He clenched his jaw and counted to ten before he said something that just ended up making him look like a fool or made him angry. Snape seemed to delight in humiliating him by pointing out that he wasn’t as bright and capable as his brothers. He didn’t need anyone to point that out to him; he’d known it for years, after all. He just wasn’t good at most things.

Charlie leaned over and unfastened his boots. They were muddy and wet, his fingers sliding on the worn dragonhide as he worked on the laces. When he finally had them untied, he kicked them off and glared at the mud on the carpet. “The perimeter is secure,” he mumbled gruffly as he shifted on the uncomfortable sofa.

“You smell,” was the curt reply.

“Not as bad as I do at home. Smell like dragons and mud then,” he pointed out as he frowned at his wet socks. He tapped his foot on the floor before he finally leaned over and pulled off his smelly socks. He tossed them over to where his boots were and sat back. He wiggled his toes, stared at the wall of wizarding photographs across from the sofa, and tried to figure out how he’d spend his evening. He didn’t like to read so his choices were limited to a solitary game of Exploding Snap, which was boring as shite, or go upstairs for a wank, which was a lot more fun.

For the last three weeks, he could find things to keep him busy during the day. The cottage was on some nice grounds that were overgrown and needed to be tended to by someone with time on their hands. He’d work outside and then usually take a dip in the small pond by the house. It was nice to feel the water against bare skin and he liked to sprawl naked on the grass by the water and just let the sun dry him off. When it got dark, however, it was more difficult to find ways to amuse himself.

Wanking was the best distraction available. Shagging would have been the best but Snape wasn’t likely to allow Charlie to have a go. Snape wasn’t his type at all and he actually did usually prefer birds to blokes, but three weeks with just his hand and a worn mattress definitely made Snape look more appealing. Charlie rolled his head to the side and stared at Snape for a moment.

Charlie opened his mouth to ask Snape if he sucked cock but quickly closed it again. He groaned and leaned his head back against the sofa so he could stare at the ceiling. Looked like he’d be heading upstairs for a good wank, after all. He’d have to ask Bill to owl him some more lotion because he was nearly out.

“I am beginning to believe that handing myself over to Voldemort would be a sight more tolerable than enduring your groans and fidgeting a moment longer, Mister Weasley.”

“I’ll loan you a broom,” he offered with a hint of sharpness. He was bloody tired of Snape and his snide comments and rude behavior. Charlie was here trying to help the bastard, for fuck sake. You’d think a little gratitude might be in order. A blow job would do wonders in expressing gratitude.

Fuck, Charlie. How desperate are you? This is Snape! You don’t want him on his knees sucking your cock with that greasy hair touching your thighs every time he lowers his head and those fucking amazing fingers squeezing your balls as you grip his head and fuck his face until he admits there is something you’re good at.

Charlie bit his lip when he felt his cock stirring. His trousers were worn and not that tight, usually, but they were soaking wet from the downpour outside and clung to him in a way that would not conceal the fact he was sitting there with an erection. A mischievous smile crossed his chapped lips as he considered doing something Very Very Bad. He glanced at Snape and saw that he was staring at a book, though his jaw was clenched and he seemed most displeased at Charlie’s offer to loan him a broom to return to his dear old Lord.

Fuck it.

He reached down and unzipped his trousers, the sound extremely loud in the quiet sitting room. He didn’t look at Snape as he freed his cock, but he heard a strangled noise and knew he was being watched. His trousers were in the way so he arched up enough to shove them down around his thighs before he sat back down. His cock flopped as he shifted on the tatty old sofa and he felt pre-come drip onto his thigh as got comfortable.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to stroke. “Fuck,” he hissed as he felt Snape watching him and heard heavy breathing.

“Take off your shirt, Weasley.”

The words startled him. The low, demanding voice caused his cock to twitch and Charlie opened his eyes to look at his former Professor. He licked his lips when he saw the intense stare focused on him. “Make me.”

“Semoveo,” and a flick of Snape’s wand was the only reply to his challenge.

Charlie groaned as his shirt ripped open and tore from his body. He smirked when he saw Snape’s lip curl and his pale tongue wet them, his gaze hungry as he stared at Charlie. “Like what you see, Professor?” he asked smugly. He licked his finger, sucked it into his mouth, and then ran it over his hard nipple. He trailed a wet path from his nipple past the tattoo on his hip and back to his throbbing cock.

“Shut up and touch yourself,” Snape demanded as he reached into the voluminous folds of his black robes.

“Say please,” Charlie taunted as his thumb brushed across the head of his cock and spread his pre-come. “You want to watch me wank, Professor? I bet you watch me swim, don’t you? Bet you watch me while I’m lying out there wanking in the lazy afternoon sun. Filthy old tosser, aren’t you? Spying and wanking while watching me. Don‘t you want to touch, Professor?”

“I said touch yourself!”

The command caused him to shudder and his hips raised as he sought the firm grip of his hand. He spat on his palm and began to rub his cock. He liked having an audience; he always had a bit of an exhibitionist. “Know what I think about while I’m lying awake wanking?” he asked in a soft pant. “Think about you on your knees sucking me so hard I can’t even see. Think about fucking you hard and coming all over your face. Think about that tight arse clenched around my cock.”

“Bastard,” Snape cursed as his eyes narrowed and his robes opened to reveal his hand rubbing his cock vigorously.

“You hate it, don’t you?” he asked lowly, gripping his cock so he wouldn’t come yet. “Hate that you want me to fuck you, that you want me. Hate that you’re about to come for me and spill all over those immaculate robes of yours. Hate that you’re about to come over here and let me fuck you until you’re covered in my come like a shameless little whore.”

“Fuck you,” Snape hissed before his body tightened. Charlie watched him stiffen, his eyes rolled back, and then he was coming so bloody hard that Charlie moaned just from watching.

He was shocked when Snape stood up and glared at him during the short walk it took for him to reach the sofa. “Wha-” He didn’t finish his question as Snape knelt between his sprawled legs, slapped his hand away from his cock, and lowered his head. Charlie gasped when he felt wet heat surround his cock and he thrust up far too hard, sending his cock deep into Snape’s mouth and throat.

Snape pulled back and choked. “Do try to control yourself, Weasley,” he muttered with a sneer before he was once again sucking Charlie’s cock.

Charlie gripped the back of the sofa and raised his hips so he could fuck Snape’s face. There was nothing gentle or teasing about his actions. He was more of a rough sort, anyway, and liked taking what he wanted. Snape didn’t seem to mind. A finger pushed into his arse and then another. His eyes rolled back as he felt them rubbing and thrusting, could practically feel his release, and then he heard a creak and his world tilted.

“Oh fucking Hell!” he cursed as the sofa toppled to the floor, the bad leg now lying on the floor and the rest of the sofa now at an awkward angle. Snape bit his cock as the sofa fell apart and Charlie pulled back quickly. He was So Bloody Close. He growled as he stood up, his cock throbbing with each step as he walked to the chair across the room, and sat back down. He looked at Snape and arched a brow, not saying a word as he reached down and fondled his balls.

“I will not crawl to you, bastard,” Snape snarled as he stood and crossed the room, glaring the entire way. He was on his knees and sucking before Charlie could think of a witty retort.

It didn’t take long for Charlie to reach the edge once again. He’d been right there before the fucking sofa fell apart, after all. He reached down and was surprised to feel that Snape’s hair wasn’t as greasy as he’d imagined. He tangled the long black hair around his fingers and began to thrust up into Snape’s willing mouth. His arse clenched around the fingers that were fucking him and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Charlie pushed Snape away when he felt his release approaching. Snape kept his mouth open, dark eyes watching him intently, and it didn‘t take more than a crook of fingers rubbing against him for Charlie to come with a low groan. He stroked his cock until he was completely spent, his seed dripping from Snape’s lips and chin by the time he was done.

“You always were such a messy child,” Snape informed him dryly. Snape raised his hand and wiped away come that was on his cheek and then sucked his finger. “Next time, you’ll be the one on your knees, Mister Weasley.”

“Next time, huh? Don‘t know about that, Professor. I think I prefer you on your knees, though maybe I‘ll reward you for being such a great cocksucker by fucking your arse,” Charlie decided as he grinned lazily. Fuck, this was a much more enjoyable way to spend the evening than wanking.

The End