Written for Luvscharlie at the 2012 Charlieficathon! Cracky fic, not serious in any way, shape, or form. Disclaimer: Ain't mine, never was, never will be.
Sitting on his bed at the Romanian Dragon Reserve, Charlie Weasley studied the long black device in his hand. It had been a gift for his thirty-ninth birthday from Harry, who'd told him that 'cell-phones' were all the rage with wizards. The younger wizard had showed him how to 'charge' his phone with a few simple taps of a wand. Now it was January, and while the device remained charged, Charlie had yet to try and operate it.
It had numbers on it. And letters. Plus, a 'screen' that hummed, Droid in a menacing way when he pushed a certain button. There were also some words stamped on the back of the item: Virgin Mobile UK. What exactly did that mean? Could he push a button and have a virgin pop up right next to him? Or was it that a virgin would show up in a car? The damn thing was confusing as hell, was what it was.
He was about to touch the screen, when the device beeped at him with a seductive voice. "You have a new text message."
Hesitantly, Charlie pressed the flashing icon on the screen. A new box swirled into view with the following message:
I think this hangover is going to kill me. If it succeeds, I would like you to read a dramatic rendition of the entire works of Assen Bossev, complete with interpretative dance, at my funeral.
Who the bloody fuck was Assen Bossev? And why was this message showing up at two o'clock in the afternoon on a Sunday? Charlie laid the item on his bed and scooted away from it, chewing on his thumbnail while contemplating what to do next.
"You have a new text message."
Charlie reached over and tapped the screen once more.
Just stabbed myself in the face trying to lick brie off my boot knife. Why did you force-feed me chocolate and avocados for 3 hours and keep asking me about my trip to Sweden when I was 4?
"What?" Charlie said aloud, frowning in confusion. "I didn't." He turned the device this way and that, looking for a way to 'talk' to whoever was sending him messages. When he returned to the glowing screen, he noticed the words, "Compose Reply." Everything seemed to be accomplished by pressing buttons, so he did just that. An assortment of letters and numbers popped onto the screen.
"Who are you?" Charlie typed and hoped he pressed the right keys to send it to the other party.
I'm devastated you don't remember the best sex of your life. That's what you kept telling me: Oh, Viktor, you are a Bulgarian sex god! Then, you asked to ride my broomstick.
Charlie stared at the message, his mouth hanging open.
"I can assure you, I did no such thing," Charlie muttered as he typed. "Your name is Viktor? You wouldn't happen to be Viktor Krum, would you?"
At last, he remembers! Please don't let me drink Absinthe again. I think I told you that you could stay the night, but as there was no room in the bed, you had to lie on top of me and anchor yourself with your penis so you didn't fall off. When I woke up, my zadnik was throbbing and you were gone.
His 'zadnik' was throbbing? Charlie tried to recall his sparse Bulgarian, snorting when he figured it out: arse.
"Trust me, if I had 'ridden your broomstick', it wouldn't be your zadnik that was throbbing. And after looking in my boxers, I can tell you that you didn't ride mine, either; I think you have the wrong person."
That is the best grammar in a dirty text. Excellent use of the semi-colon. And yes, I am hard.
Charlie blushed to the roots of his red hair. Apparently Viktor didn't care whom he was spilling such lewd secrets to. Safe in his anonymity, since Viktor had no idea who he was, Charlie decided to indulge in this intriguing game. It wasn't like anyone could see him, right?
"If my grammar gets you hard, imagine what would happen if I actually used my hands."
Would you spank me with your hands? I want to see if your hand fits the handprint bruise on my ass. Make me feel like a naughty gizzard!
"Gizzard? Ducking hell, what is a gizzard?"
Stupid Autocorrect on this ducking Visigoth! I meant gizzard!
Qizard!
WIZARD!
Ducking? Charlie looked at the last few messages and rolled his eyes. Apparently his phone had this function as well. He would just need to be more careful about what he typed.
"So you want me to spank you? I could use my hands. Or a whip. Are you a naughty wizard who needs to be published?"
I have no need of this publishing. Punishing, yes. Punish my muscular ass with your whipped cream!
Even to Charlie, who had seen and accomplished a great deal in his life, this conversation was bizarre.
"Not whipped cream. A whip I use proficiently! As in, I can flick a fly off your arse at twenty paces without breaking your skin."
Several moments went by with no response, and Charlie thought he'd gone too far with his last comment. It was unfortunate, really; he himself was as hard as a rock from the thought of using his whip on Viktor's Quidditch-toned body. When the screen remained dark for quite a bit, Charlie pressed a button. Nothing happened. "Shit."
There was a reason there was no reply: the battery had drained and the phone had shut itself off. Swearing again, he grabbed his wand and tapped the appliance in the places Harry had shown him, in order to get the phone working again. Once charged, the phone beeped to life again and chirped at him.
"You have eleven new text messages."
Then yes, fluck me with your ducking whip, my sugar lymphoma!
Pumpkins.
Lumpkins.
Sugar lumps!
NO! Lovely lumps!
Wyandotte.
Ferret!
Shot.
Let's try something different. Give me anal.
Not anal! Well, yes, anal, but not now.
Hello?
Charlie was confused as hell and didn't know whether to laugh or cry in frustration.
"Sorry, the battery on my phone quit working."
I'm glad to know this. I feared I had ruined my chances with you. Please give me anal.
"What? How am I supposed to do that through this little device?"
A CALL. GIVE ME A CALL! I am going to sex this troublesome phone and its tiny buttons!
SEX.
HEX!
A call? Charlie panicked. If he called Viktor, the Bulgarian was sure to figure out that Charlie was not his lover from the previous night. The decision was taken from him, however, when a moving picture appeared on Charlie's screen.
Viktor leaned forward, his left eye becoming enormous in the rectangular box. "I cannot see you. You were not ugly last night, so there is no need to hide your face."
The slight accent flowed over Charlie's ears and made his cock twitch. "I'm not hiding. Can't you see me?"
"No, only blackness. I am new at this cell-phone idea, but I have been trying to learn the features, as it was a gift and I want to make the most of it." The image of Viktor drew back and fiddled with something to the side of the screen. "Ah, here is the problem. You do not have your vid-dee-oo on. This is why I can only hear your voice. You must have developed an ailment; you don't sound like you did last night."
No, really? Charlie groaned. "Yes, I'm sick." He coughed for good measure. "So, I'm not up to doing this vid-dee-oo. Can I just stick with the voice call?"
"Yes, yes. I like your voice better tonight. It's very deep."
The way Viktor said deep had Charlie thinking perverse things indeed. "How deep do you like it?"
"All the way. I want to feel your balls on the back of my zadnik." The image on the phone altered and Charlie's screen was soon filled with a view of a meaty fist stroking a thick cock, the foreskin sliding up and down over the purple tip. "See what you do to me?"
Charlie's mouth went dry. "Oh, holy fuck." He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and stuck his hand in his boxers. He grasped his erection and timed his strokes to the moving image on his phone.
Viktor stopped stroking for a moment. "Wait, I want you to see me come." There was a sharp movement and clunking noise.
When the picture stilled, Charlie had a full view of a naked Bulgarian lounging on a leather chair. Three tattoos adorned the lithe body, including one that wrapped around one of Krum's thighs and resembled a Hungarian Horntail. Charlie pinched the tip of his prick to keep from coming at the thought of actually licking all those tattoos.
"Let me hear your voice. It makes my balls tighten."
Charlie gulped and surged into his hand, now slick with precome. "If I were there, I would suck one of your balls into my mouth," he said in a low voice. "Then I would tongue my way up your thick cock and dip it in your slit to taste you."
Viktor's head fell against the back of the chair as he thrust his hips up, groaning. "Oh, yes, just like you used your mouth last night. Glorious!"
At this point, Charlie didn't care that he hadn't been the one to bring bliss to the Quidditch star the previous night; he was here now, and watching Viktor wank right in front of him was sinfully delicious. They both increased their pace at the same time, and Charlie loved the sounds filtering through the little picture on his phone.
Viktor writhed on the chair, arched suddenly and roared his release. Spurts of white fluid sprayed onto his chest… and the phone.
The screen went blank.
"No!" Charlie screamed just as he achieved his own release, covering himself in milky spunk.
Hands sticky, he grabbed the phone and pressed several buttons. Nothing. He used his wand again to charge the battery. Nothing. "Fucking piece of shit! Work!"
Nothing.
Charlie whimpered and threw the device across the room, only to see it land unharmed on the floor. It figured; the thing wouldn't work as it was supposed to, and when he tried to destroy it, it resisted with a Featherweight Charm that Harry must've added. Disgusted with himself and the phone, Charlie cast a Tergeo on his hands and chest before retrieving the phone and laying it on his bedside table.
That was when he heard a pop outside his cabin door, followed by a loud pounding.
"Let me in!"
Charlie approached the door, wand at the ready. "Who's there?"
"It is me: your Bulgarian sex god!"
"How did you find me? How do I know it's you?"
There was an impatient sound. "Because I am standing here naked."
"Shit!" Charlie pulled open the door and beheld Viktor Krum standing there, naked as the day he was born. "Why aren't you wearing any clothes?"
"You are not Harry." Viktor immediately covered his bits with his hands.
Ah, so that was who had shagged Krum the previous night. Pity. Charlie would've really liked to repeat his earlier performance. But he knew he looked nothing like Harry, and Polyjuice was definitely out of the question. It didn't mean he had to be an insensitive git, though, by leaving Viktor out in the cold. "Come in."
Hesitantly, Viktor made his way inside and Charlie closed the door behind him. "I think I broke my vid-dee-oo when I came. So, I followed the GPS coordinates to this location. But you are not Harry Potter."
Charlie arched a brow. "I think we've established this."
"Why did you answer Harry's cell-phone?"
"I tried to tell you earlier that you were speaking to the wrong person. You didn't seem like you wanted to take no for an answer."
Confusion furrowed Viktor's brow. "But I pressed the button that said, 'Harry'."
"Obviously, you didn't. You said you were hung over. Do you have your phone with you now? Maybe it will tell you whom you actually called instead of Harry." Charlie took in Viktor's naked state and shook his head. "Never mind. Let's just assume it was a mistake and go on with our lives, yes?"
"But I liked fucking with you on the cell-phone," Viktor said. "I came here to…"
Charlie sucked in a breath. "To what?"
Viktor relaxed his pose and let his arms hang to the side. "I wanted to have sex with you face-to-face. The cell-phone was irritating, but necessary."
"And now that you're here and you know it isn't Harry you were talking to?" Charlie asked carefully.
"Please do not tell Harry this, but he is very short. I like tall men. You? You are my height." Viktor glanced down to see Charlie's bulge and smiled. "And you are just my size. I want you even more, now."
"Best offer I've had in ages," Charlie said with a grin and tugged Viktor to the bedroom to re-enact their previous conversation.
One Month later…
Harry Potter opened his Virgin Mobile billing statement and his eyes boggled.
January charges: £3,360
"What the hell!" He skimmed through the list of fees incurred: multiple text messages and five-hour long conversations each day of the week – all international. There had to be some mistake! He scanned the numbers that he had supposedly called. They all belonged to the same person: Viktor Krum.
Harry grabbed his phone and searched his contact list, frowning when he didn't come across Viktor's name. To be honest, Harry picked up his cell-phone so rarely that he only had to pay for the time or two he did use it. Not finding Viktor's name sent dread spiralling throughout him.
Then he noticed something: what he held wasn't his phone. It looked like his phone, but it wasn't. It must be Charlie Weasleys' phone, as he had bought the dragon keeper the same kind Harry used. Harry had to have accidently grabbed the wrong one at Charlie's birthday party.
Harry groaned and banged his head on the desk in front of him. Now he understood the charges. If Charlie had Harry's phone, and Viktor had tried to call Harry after their impromptu drunken shag, then Viktor most definitely had been talking to Charlie.
Harry was going to have to Portkey to Romania and retrieve his phone. What Viktor and Charlie did after that was nobody's business.