The pub was old and rundown, located in the small village of Flobby Knot, which always seemed to reduce Charlie to a snickering thirteen year-old when he easily replaced the ‘t’ with a ‘b’. The King’s Crown was a Muggle establishment that was always full of smoke and local villagers lamenting over the state of the country and discussing soil in a manner that was a bit scary in his opinion. There were a dozen rooms for let upstairs, all in a similar state of disrepair.
Charlie had gotten used to this place over the last five months. He knew that the barkeep was called Philip and that the pub was always more crowded on a Thursday night than a Tuesday night. His visits to this area of England have gone from once every couple of weeks to weekly. The owl always arrived the morning of the night that the visit was to occur, giving him only a few hours to wait while he finished his work at the Reserve.
During the past months, he had learned a variety of charms he had never had any interest in learning, mostly to conceal his journey and to block anyone who might try to track his magical signature. He had to be careful because he couldn’t get caught. He wasn’t stupid and he knew the risk he was taking by coming here when summoned but he’d always been a bit reckless when it came to danger. Precautions, however, were just necessary, especially in these turbulent times.
He ordered an ale, the only somewhat decent drink the pub served, and took a seat at a secluded table near the fire. It was near a window so he could see who came to the door of the pub and his back was against the wall so he knew no one could appear from behind him. He was an active member of the Order, more so following Dumbledore’s death six months ago, but most of his work was focused on training the dragons, which he hoped they never had to utilize, and doing random assignments as necessary.
These meetings weren’t an assignment. In fact, his mum would kill him herself if she had any idea that he was coming to England every week. If she knew just what the meetings entailed, she’d bring him back to life just so she could kill him again. He loved his mum, of course, but he hadn’t chosen to work somewhere as far away as Romania by chance. There were some parts of his life that were better without interference, that being most of them, actually.
While he waited, he removed his spectacles and wiped the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. He only needed them for reading but he had taken to wearing them more often as he got older. He liked to think they gave him an intelligent look, but he knew he just wasn’t an intelligent looking bloke. He was too broad, too short, too muscular, and too stocky to pull off witty smart guy like Bill or Percy. The fact that his skin was nearly brown from all his freckles and that he had a tendency to smile a lot, even without realizing it, also meant he’d not be accused of being an intellectual any time soon.
A movement outside the window caught his attention and he put his glasses back on, tensing as he felt the restlessness begin to build in the pit of his belly. He counted to fifteen before the door opened and a dark figure entered. It almost amused him how easily Muggle clothes had been adapted to something vaguely akin to a black robe and nondescript appearance. People would look, gazes possibly lingering on the hook nose and sharp angles of cheekbones and jaw, and then dismiss without a second thought.
Charlie had been just as dismissive, after all, when he was a student and forced to sit through hours upon hours of lessons in shite he didn’t care about. It hadn’t been until a couple of years ago that he’d developed an appreciation for those angles and realized that the skin wasn’t so much sallow as just ridiculously pale. When his fingers had been tangled in the thick black hair as he’d fucked a very warm and wet mouth, he’d not even noticed the natural greasiness that made it seem so lifeless and heavy to others.
He didn’t find Severus Snape attractive nor did he particularly find him sexy, not by any traditional definitions, but Charlie couldn’t ignore the fact that there was just something about his former professor that aroused him, both sexually and mentally. Charlie had always been a bit of a caregiver, had always loved taking care of things and making things better, and Snape was the epitome of someone who needed all those things despite his fierce denial and stubborn belief he could do it all himself.
When Snape took the seat opposite him, they didn’t speak. Charlie wasn’t sure how that routine had started, but it had gradually become that way after the first few meetings. That first time, when he’d received an owl in a familiar scrawl with the name of this place along with a date and time, he’d almost not come. Snape was a traitor, according to some in the Order, and still loyal, according to others. The facts were unclear and no one seemed to know for certain.
Charlie’d gone home for Dumbledore’s funeral and heard the various opinions of those around him. He had seen Bill’s scars that were a reminder of that night and saw the dark circles beneath Potter’s eyes that had extended to his baby brother and the girl with the wild hair. He’d caught sight of those three whispering, shooting furtive looks around and then hurriedly writing words on parchment that was always carefully folded up and stuffed into pockets. He’d actually not been surprised when he received an owl from Bill a month later saying that Ron had run off with the other two to help save the world, a task that should never have been on anyone’s shoulders, much less three kids who hadn’t even had a chance to live yet.
It was the knowledge that Ron was doing so much while he was off playing with dragons that led him to accept the invitation. He and Snape had never had a relationship, not in any traditional sense unless you counted a couple of weeks during summer and a few days here and there where they spent their time fucking and occasionally talking a relationship. But Charlie trusted Snape and wanted to hear the truth. He’d not gotten the truth that night or any night since, but he had learned the location of a future Death Eater attack to give to Shacklebolt and learned just how squeaky the beds upstairs in this pub happened to be.
There was no point trying to find out what really happened or what was happening now. Snape was too stubborn and close-mouthed to ever say anything personal, especially if he thought it might endanger someone even if he’d deny that observation. Charlie had given up giving Snape questioning looks and had simply accepted the scraps of parchment with various information, several of which also contained information on Ron’s whereabouts and actions that not even Voldemort knew.
The parchment tonight simply had a date and location, some Muggle area it seemed, and he recognized the names listed from somewhere. Doctor and Doctor Granger, it seemed, were the next target of Voldemort. It took him a minute of frowning before he placed the name Granger on the pretty girl with the mass of brown hair that Ron fancied. He arched a brow, slightly surprised that this had become a target, and Snape simply blinked at him without answering any unspoken questions. Charlie folded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket. He’d owl Shacklebolt as soon as he got home, rather liking the idea of playing partial hero in saving someone somewhat familiar.
Snape looked haggard, tired, and too skinny, but he was calm and didn’t seem anxious so Charlie assumed whatever scheme he was playing was still going well. He finished his ale before tossing a pound on the table as he stood up. His gaze met Snape’s and he nodded once before he went to the bar and paid for a room upstairs. Philip had a key already waiting and Charlie wondered when he’d become so bloody predictable.
He went upstairs and cast some protection charms as well as a muffling charm and a few strong wards just in case. Better safe than sorry had become his personal motto and he certainly had no intention of getting attacked by surprise while in the midst of fucking. Snape arrived when he was finishing the wards, undressing silently as Charlie finished. After he was done, Charlie removed a jar of lubricant from his coat pocket and began to undress.
Long fingers that seemed permanently stained by potion ingredients wrapped around his wrist when he started to unbutton his trousers. Charlie let his hand fall away and watched as Snape knelt in front of him. He had never been too picky on the whole top and bottom issue, just as he wasn’t too picky if it was a bloke or bird he was shagging, but Snape had surprised him by preferring to be on bottom. If he’d been asked before they’d started fucking, Charlie would have sworn the snarky Potions master was a top and very dominant. Just went to show that it was difficult to tell when it came to fucking.
Snape unfastened his trousers and pushed them past his hips. Charlie watched intently as Snape’s tongue licked at the front of his shorts, his cock twitching as the wet cotton rubbed against him. By the time Snape finally lowered his shorts, Charlie was hard and ready. His hips rolled forward when wet lips moved over the head of his cock and he groaned when he felt Snape start to suck and lick. Charlie reached down and gripped Snape’s hair tightly, knowing exactly what the other man liked by now, and thrust forward with a bit more force.
A moan around his cock made his eyes roll back as Snape’s thin lips slid against his erection. Charlie began to move, fucking Snape’s mouth with slow but firm strokes. Strong hands gripped his arse, spreading his cheeks, and then a finger lightly brushed against him. He cursed under his breath as the finger pressed inside him, curling this way and that before it started to rub. A second finger was added, stretching him. It was all he needed to know to realize that Snape planned to fuck him tonight.
Charlie liked to get fucked, even if he did prefer to fuck, and he had to admit that being fucked by Snape, on those occasions when his former professor felt like fucking, was always good. Snape pulled his mouth back before Charlie could come, which earned a frustrated growl as he glared down at the other man. The glare didn’t last long when Snape moved his tongue over Charlie’s balls, sucking and rolling the flesh in his mouth as he urged Charlie to spread his legs wider.
The first touch of the tongue against his arse made him moan. He leaned forward, resting his palms against his knees, and began to pant as Snape’s tongue pressed against his arse. Snape licked earnestly, spitting and thrusting his tongue inside, and Charlie could soon feel wet saliva soon dripping from his arse. He whined when he felt Snape’s fingers wrap around his cock and begin to tug in rhythm with his tongue, his body rocking back and forth between tongue and hand until he felt a familiar tension in his belly.
Again, before he could come, Snape pulled away. Charlie cursed as he watched Snape stand and walk to the bed, where he moved the pillows and laid down. Snape’s cock was hard and swollen, pre-come coating the head, and Charlie watched him smirk as he reached down to lazily stroke himself.
Charlie joined him, picking up the jar of lubricant and getting some on his fingers. He slapped Snape’s hand away and stroked his cock, getting it ready. While Snape didn’t like to be fucked with anything except saliva easing the way, Charlie preferred his rough in others areas of the fuck and not in having his arse fucked with just a bit of spit. Once Snape was ready, Charlie straddled him and gripped his cock so he could slide down.
Snape watched him as he began to fuck himself, moving up and down on Snape's cock until he was finally able to get it all inside him. Charlie soon adjusted and moved faster as he reached down to wank. It didn’t take too long of direct friction before his body tightened and he came with a grunt, spilling onto Snape’s belly and chest. He kept moving his hand until he was completely spent. Snape was thrusting up into him now, and Charlie groaned as he was fucked hard and deep.
He dragged his fingers through his come, spreading it over Snape’s pale skin before he wiped his fingers against Snape’s lips. A wet tongue lashed out to lap at his come covered fingers and Charlie heard a low groan as Snape arched up hard before come spilled into his arse. He kept moving up and down until Snape released his wet fingers and pushed at him to stop. Charlie eased off Snape’s cock, come dripping from his arse, and fell onto the bed as he panted and wiped his dry hand over his sweaty face.
He was startled when Snape moved between his legs, pushing them up against Charlie’s chest, and lowered his head, licking and sucking his arse free of his come. Charlie gasped as that talented tongue lashed out, lapping at the come until Charlie was sure he might get hard again despite having just come so hard. When Snape pulled back, he simply smirked and wiped come off his lips with his tongue before he rolled off the bed.
A quick cleaning charm was performed before Snape got dressed again. Charlie finally moved then, doing a charm of his own and then standing. His arse was sore and he needed a shower, but he grinned anyway. Who wouldn’t smile after great sex? He got dressed and then sat on the bed. Snape met his gaze and nodded once before he turned and left the room.
Charlie counted to a hundred before he stood up and left the room. He dropped off the key to Philip and then left the pub. Snape was already gone, of course, but Charlie knew it wouldn’t be too long before he received another owl and found himself back at the King’s Crown for another meeting and great fuck. Until then, he’d go home, pass along the information he gathered tonight, and play his own little part in helping to save the world.
The End
The King's Crown
Story Notes:
4/21/06