Charlie-Flavoured Kisses by Luvscharlie
It had been so long since she had seen him, too long since she had touched him, but there he was standing outside her tent with the still smoking remnants of other tents behind him and a rip in his shirt.
"You okay?"
"I'm an Auror now, Charlie. I can take care of myself, y'know."
"You're an off-duty Auror who came to the Quidditch World Cup for fun just like everyone else. You weren't prepared for this."
She noticed the rip in his shirt and stuck her finger through it. "Charlie, are you hurt?"
"Nah," he said with a smirk. "Bill and Percy can't say the same though."
"Are they—"
"Calm down. They're fine. Just a bit worse for wear's all."
She smiled. It was always the same with him. He was still trying to 'one-up' his brothers, and it was still just as charming.
"Well, since you're up and all—I mean, you know, if you don't have anything better to do—" He sighed, scuffed his toe in the dirt and gave up any attempts at speech in favor of pulling a bag of Muggle marshmallows from behind his back and waggling his eyebrows at her. "You game?"
She grinned at the twinkle in his eye. Charlie Weasley's boyish smile was still all it took to turn her knees to jelly. His smile widened, and the dimple in his cheek that had always been her undoing winked at her. She'd never been able to refuse him anything, and her resolve had not strengthened in the slightest with the passing of years. She was as enchanted with him as ever.
She grabbed a blanket from behind her, wrapped it around her shoulders and followed him to a nearby campfire that had been abandoned in the chaos of earlier in the evening. She sat down on a rock as Charlie took up a nearby stick, also abandoned in its owners rush to leave, speared two marshmallows on the end and passed it to her.
"So, Charlie, how's Romania?"
He sat down beside her, their thighs touching, and he turned to look at her. Damn that dimple. "To tell you the truth, Nymph, it's a bit lonely."
It was difficult to tell by the light of the campfire, but he appeared to be blushing.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit she recognised from their days at Hogwarts. He only did it when he was nervous or uncomfortable. It was a habit born of frustration. "What's the matter, Charlie?"
"Tonight, Nymph, with the Death Eaters and all, is that what you're doing every day?"
"Why? Are you worried?" she teased. He didn't answer, and she wasn't about to push him to do so; she wasn't sure she wanted to hear that answer. "Nah, it's not always like tonight. I've spent the better part of three weeks doing paperwork behind a bloody desk getting ready for this Cup and chasing leads on some bloke who's been going around passing charmed stones off as dragon eggs."
"But it's illegal to have dragon eggs or to traffic in them."
"Yeah, but you won't believe how many people have reported him and tried to recoup their Galleons. The idiots keep turning him in for selling them fake dragon eggs, without thinking of the repercussions of trying to buy the bloody things in the first place. Dumb arses, the lot of them."
He chuckled and the tension was broken. Charlie popped two darkened marshmallows into his mouth, swallowed them down and reloaded his stick before she ever put hers near the fire the first time.
In an attempt to change the subject she opted for small talk. "So what'd ya think of the match?"
"Makes me long for days out on the pitch. You?"
"Do you regret turning down the opportunity to play professionally, Charlie?"
"Sometimes. It makes me wonder what things would be like if I'd taken that job, rather than this one. I would have been in London, you know?"
He popped another marshmallow into his mouth.
"Do you—well, you know, think we might have made it, if you'd stayed?"
"It was the distance that broke us up, wasn't it?"
"No," she said shaking her head. "It was the broken promises, granted on both of our parts, and then you replaced me with her and—"
Charlie raised his hands in defeat. "You don't need to remind me, Nymph. I know. Can we just not do that to one another? Not when there's so little time before we both go back to our normal lives and –"
She nodded her understanding. There was no purpose in rehashing the many reasons they hadn't worked. It was enough that they hadn't. They both knew their reasons for ending it and none of them seemed to matter tonight.
She pulled one of the marshmallows from her roasting stick with her teeth and swallowed it down.
"Oh, Nymph, wait that's hot."
It was too late. It seared her throat all the way down. She squealed and began to fan her mouth in a pointless attempt to cool her tongue. "Hot. Hot."
Charlie ran for the tent and came back with a bottle of water. "A Muggle tent? You trying to prove something to the other Aurors by 'roughing it', Nymph?"
"The water, Charlie. Give me the water."
He looked at the bottle still in his hand and hurried over to her. "Sorry. Yeah, here."
She simply couldn't drink it fast enough and was soon spluttering and choking.
Charlie took her face between his hands and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it back and sucking off a bit of marshmallow that had been on her mouth. "Mmm."
"Good then?" she asked.
"Tastes like you and you always taste good. I've missed you, Nymph. It's been a long time, huh?"
"Too long, Charlie."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up and then toward her tent. "What's with the Muggle tent?"
"It reminds me of camping with my Granddad Tonks when I was little, so I don't mind. Besides I'm supposed to be setting an example of the proper way for wizards to behave around Muggles."
Charlie pulled her inside and immediately to the centre where the pole held up the small tent. She backed up against it and held her arms open for him.
"Whoa there, love. I haven't forgotten our wilder sessions at Hogwarts." He cast a spell to strengthen the pole, and then pushed her back against it kissing her. Her hands wandered over the muscles of his back then to the front of his shirt, where she made short work of the buttons, desperate to touch the skin beneath. If there was one thing she could always count on it was the warmth of Charlie's skin. She would have sworn he ran twenty degrees hotter than anyone else. Her hands ran the length of his sides and she heard his sharp intake of breath and looked down to see an angry red burn that covered a portion of his ribs.
"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"I'm fine. One of the dragons just thought I needed a reminder who was boss."
Charlie's body pinned her back against the pole and his kisses, which by all accounts should have tasted of marshmallows, sweet and sticky, did not. They tasted just as they always had, deliciously Charlie-flavoured.
"I want you, Nymph."
This was a bad idea, and her head was screaming that she needed to stop it before it went any farther. She did not, however, have any desire to walk away. Instead, her response was to pull her shirt over her head and bare her breasts for him. The groan deep in his throat signaled his approval and his hands moved quickly to cover them.
"Shall I make them bigger for you? I haven't forgotten what you like."
He shook his head to indicate that she should not, then lowered his head and took her nipple between his lips. His cheek was rough with stubble, and against the smoothness of her breast it felt divine. She clutched a handful of his short-cropped hair and the moan that escaped her lips was feral. He kissed his way down her stomach, and unfastened her jeans with little difficulty, going down on his knees before her and tugging them down her thighs.
"I want you just as you are, love."
"Since when? That's not the Charlie I remember."
"I'm not the Charlie you remember." His words held no teasing note. He looked up at her with half lidded, lust-filled eyes and said, "I've done a good bit of growing up since I saw you last. I've learned to appreciate what I once was stupid enough to let pass me by. I know better now."
Before she could tell him this changed nothing between them, he hooked her leg over his shoulder and elicited responses from her with his tongue that no one else had come close to matching… and there had been those who tried. They simply did not measure up to the standard he had set. Charlie Weasley was a hard act to follow.
Her back pressed hard into the pole behind her. "Oh, Charlie."
"Mmm," he hummed, and the vibrations from his lips against her sent her to the edge of sanity, just shy of pushing her over. He pulled back, and she whimpered at the loss of contact.
"Patience," Charlie whispered, "I would have thought all that Auror training would have taught you that good things come to those who wait." He made short work of removing the remainder of his clothes and shot her a patronising smile. Smarmy Git. She took hold of the pole for balance and gave him a sharp shove with her foot. Unfortunately for him, he had just bent over to loosen the laces of his boots and his center of gravity was a bit off with his trousers around his knees, and her shove sent him toppling.
He was quite a sight sprawled on the tent floor. It was impossible not to laugh, though she had to admit she wasn't trying very hard. He recovered himself quickly enough.
"Think that's funny?"
"Quite," she retorted, as he closed the distance between him. He was rather beautiful, covered in freckles, muscles sharply defined and the dragon on his upper arm snorting its protestations at being woke. He captured her chin with his hand, pressing her back harder against the tent pole and kissed her long and deep, so that she was a bit dizzy when they finally parted. She was thankful for the support the pole offered as her knees no longer seemed able to hold her up. It was no surprise. He always seemed to have that effect on her. She stroked her hand down his cheek and felt the dip of the dimple she both loathed and loved.
"Hold on, baby," he said.
She raised her arms above her head and grasped the pole behind her as Charlie's hands grasped her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he entered her. She felt her orgasm building quickly having been so close from the teasing of his tongue. He, however, needed more encouragement.
There was so much history between them. She knew him, and used the knowledge to her advantage. She began to morph.
First, her hair changed from pink to green…
Then her eyes, from blue to brown…
Her lips became a bit fuller as he kissed her…
"Bloody hell, Nymph. Are you trying to kill me?"
She grinned back at him. He had never been able to hold back when she did that. Even the slightest shift in appearance, according to him, was an indescribable feeling when they were joined. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he lost control. "Gonna come, Nymph."
"I'm ready, Charlie." He drove hard and fast into her. This time there was no holding back. He took her to the boundaries of her sanity and pushed her beyond them until there was nothing but blissful oblivion, sweat-dampened skin, moans of ecstasy…and Charlie-flavoured kisses.
Fin.