Written for RavenclawDoctorSilveo's 1991 challenge (Harry Potter, blue)
Dark Touch
"Harry! Harry, where are you? I can't see a bloody thing. Where's the light?"
You can hear his footsteps echoing through the wet tunnel, but you can't see him. It's pitch black – darker than night – and your wands were missing.
How stupid can you be, letting go of it? It had been your only source of light, and you had let it go. His wand lay somewhere with it – wherever he had put it when you'd come at him with the enthusiasm of the two of you being alone together for the first time in three weeks.
"I'm here," you say, sensing that he may be to your right. "I'm here."
You hear footsteps draw nearer, and then, "Shit!"
"Are you okay?"
"What the fuck was that?"
You don't know what he's talking about, but you suspect he may have stubbed his toe on something. What, you're not sure.
"Why'd we come here?" he complains, and by the sound of things, he is hopping on one foot.
"Because it's the only place we could be alone together," you reply casually, feeling the wall to see if it was the way out. How far had you come into the tunnel, anyway? How far underground were you? "Which," you then add, feeling an indent of stone against the palm of your hand, "We still are."
He gives a hmph as a reply, and you continue feeling around for any sign of exit. You walk slowly along the edge – had you even come this way? – until you run into something large and strong. It's a body that you have missed – a being that you can never find enough time to be alone with.
"Still alone, you say?" he says, his tone more seductive than it had been just moments ago. He places strong arms around you, his calloused hands sneaking underneath your shirt so that they were cool against your skin.
You shiver at his touch, pressing yourself into him. Even if you couldn't see him you can still picture the desire in his eyes as he holds you. It is always the same; the longing to kiss you, to hold you, to make love to you. On the rare occasion that you get to see him, it is always the same. Your weekends in Romania you barely leave his bedroom.
"I need to find my wand." It's a half-hearted attempt to pull away from him – really, you don't want to.
"That can wait."
Even in the dark his lips find yours, and it's a strong, passionate embrace that you can't break. He grips you tightly, pulling you even closer to him. He hasn't seen you in over a month, and the times that he has, there's always been someone else there.
You cup his face with your hands, thumb tracing his jawline. An involuntary moan escapes his lips.
"Harry," he whispers, and your only response is to deepen the kiss. You push him against the wall with a force you don't even know you have; your fingers entangle themselves in his hair. His lips move to your neck, his teeth leaving marks. You can feel his fingers running up and down your back, stopping every once in a while to press down somewhere. It's your turn to cry out this time.
"Charlie," you breathe. This is what you came here for – to be alone – and it feels so right, but you wish you could see him. "I need my wand."
"No you don't."
"Charlie." You try to push him away, but it's difficult. "Please… let me find it."
He must hear something in your voice, because he sighs and lets go. "Where is it?"
"I don't know."
"Neither."
The idea is comical, you realise. There the two of you are, standing in a pitch-black tunnel underground without your wands. You don't even know if you're facing the right way to get out, or if you keep walking straight, you'll go even deeper into the underground. What would happen if you turned left instead?
"I think I may have dropped it over here." You trace your steps back, feeling with your shoes for any sign of a wand. There's nothing there except dirt and mud from the dripping roof of the tunnel.
You want to laugh out loud as the two of you begin scrambling around for your wands. You're on your hands and knees, feeling the ground, and you assume he is, too. What a sight the two of you must have been, and if anyone were to switch on a light and find you –
"Found it!"
A shout comes from your left, and then suddenly there is a bright, blue light shining in your eyes. You squint, watching as a shadowy figure moves closer to you. You can't even see his face, your eyes are so unaccustomed to the brightness.
"Now, where were we?" he asks in a low, rather seductive voice.
You want to say that you were searching for your wand, now, but he presses his lips against you before you get the chance. You feel his hands snake around your body, pulling you towards him. It's a passionate kiss, one you wished would last forever; but alas, nothing lasts forever.
"I've realised something," Charlie says, reluctantly breaking the kiss. "I realised it when I saw you again."
"What is it?"
There is silence, and you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for him to answer you.
You can't see his face clearly, but you are fairly certain he is smiling. His lips brush against yours lightly, and his voice barely above a whisper, he says, "I realised that I loved you."
So, normally I hate Harry in slash pairings, but I don't know, something compelled me to write HarryCharlie and I don't know what it was. I've just been in a mood recently for writing things I've never tried before. I'm actually rather happy with the way it turned out.
Please don't forget to review!