A/n: I cannot take full credit for this. Laura (Someone aka Me) and I wrote this together, but we felt that it would get more readers on one of our personal accounts. It's been cross posted to ao3 as well. Please enjoy.

You can skip/skim all tbe football commentary if you would like.

Sunday Night Lights

The camera focuses in on a room with a circular table and a screen off to the right. Two men in suits sit there, one - the one with dreadlocks - looks slightly uncomfortable in his suit, while the other one is perfectly at ease.

"Welcome to the NFL pre-game show. One of the more interesting games of the season is going down tomorrow at 1 o'clock pm between long standing rivals - the Green Bay Packers and the Detroit Lions. What are your thoughts on this, Blaise?"

Blaise flashes a smile that's all teeth. "Well, Lee, I don't think that the Lions can beat the Packers," he says simply. "Just look at their records. The Packers are at nine and zero, while the Lions have only won a single game this season. And the Lions are playing in Packers territory. They simply cannot win."

A clip appears on the screen, a Safety is circled. "I think that the Lions have a chance — I think the Lions defense is going to give them that chance. The Lions' defensive line has been making good plays recently. If they can just hang on throughout the whole game like they've been playing at the beginning of all of their games, they might be able to pull it off. They're stopping runs before they can begin, and pressuring the Quarterback well. You saw some of the poor throws they forced Quarterback Alex Smith of the Chiefs to make last week. The Lions defense is going to make or break this game, and I think a lot of it is down to this Safety," Lee says.

The clip continues to play, and the Safety makes the tackle just short of the 5 yard line on third down. It forces the other team to settle for a field goal. "I think that we'll be seeing a lot from him in this game. I really think that he could be a game changer. That's Safety Charlie Weasley, gaining increasing notice for his ability to hold the line when runners have slipped past the rest of the defense. Weasley is in his third year of play for the Lions, and his seventh year in the NFL, but, as you know, Strong Safety isn't the position for those who want to be noticed."

"A defense alone just can't win a game, though," Blaise points out. "The Packers have a better overall team; it's undeniable. And with Running Back Draco Malfoy looking more and more unstoppable every game, I'm just not sure the Lions are up to the challenge."

"What would it take for the Lions to win, in your opinion, Blaise?"

"Well, Lee, the Lions have to come out hard and fast. They score most of their points in the first half; that's been an ongoing trend for them. If they can come out strong offensively in the first half, and if the Lions defense can hold back Malfoy, they might just stand a chance."


"Welcome to the post game analysis of the Packers versus the Lions with your hosts, Lee Jordan and Blaise Zabini."

"What a game!" Lee exclaims. "The Lions pull the upset against the Packers in the Packers' own backyard for their second win of the season. Impressive, if I do say so myself. So what did the Lions do right, Blaise?"

"They limited the Packers' ability to pass and their ability to run the ball," his companion responds. "All the while, they kept their mistakes and penalties to a minimum. They moved the ball quite efficiently as well."

Lee nods. "That they did. The lowest number of penalties the Lions have received in the season. Let's talk about the major players in this game." The screen to their right shows a clip. The Lions' Safety is circled. "Now watch this guy. He reads the Quarterback and puts himself in a position to tackle. He forces the fumble and recovers it which allows the Lions to score on their next possession. What a game maker he is! Did I tell you? I told you!" Lee looks practically gleeful.

Another clips appears with two players circled - the Packers' Running Back and, behind the rest of the line, the Lions' Safety, the same one from before. "Now this is a matchup that we saw several times during this game," Lee says.

The clip plays, showing the Running Back tackled by the Safety just before the first down marker. The Safety offers his hand to the Running Back, but he ignores it. It isn't the first time that Running Back has dismissed help, even from his own team, and Lee doubts it will be the last.

"That's the Packers' brand new Running Back and first round draft pick this year. It was surprising when Malfoy wasn't picked up by another team, making his way all the way down to draft pick 30. People said the Packers were taking a risk, picking up a Running Back when they needed some heavyweight Linebackers. However, Malfoy is proving himself to be a great asset to the Packers' roster, averaging 15 yards a carry. He reads the defense like it's nothing, slipping through spaces that seem nonexistent. He's a bit smaller than the average Running Back, but if anything that only seems to be helping his agility."

"That doesn't see to be the case today," Lee replies. "No amount of agility could get him room to maneuver today. That Safety, Weasley, managed to tackle Malfoy several times during the game." Another clip shows. The Safety and Running Back are circled again. "Malfoy seems to have issues reading Weasley's moves. In a game like today, it was costly."

"The Packers deferred to the receive the ball at the start of the second half. The opening drive for them was exceptional," Blaise says. A clip appears, circling the Packers' Running Back. "They hand off to Malfoy and he gets it into the in zone. An 83 yard touchdown, his longest carry of the night. And it ties the score, finally."

The clip continues with Malfoy in the in zone, tossing the ball to the Official, while his team celebrates with one another. Malfoy walks to his offensive coordinator as their special teams takes the field. Not a single person gives him a congratulatory slap or pat.

"The game was well into the final quarter before the Lions scored their game-winning field goal. The Packers defense held them just outside of the red zone. The Lions Field Goal unit took the field and attempted a 43 yard field goal. It was the second longest attempt made by the Lions' Kicker this year. The ball only just made it through the uprights," Lee narrates happily. He likes to root for the underdogs, and he likes it more when they win.


Charlie hoists his bag further up his shoulder as he enters the practice field. It's early, far too early for most people, but he likes early morning when the sun isn't above the horizon yet and the weather is chilly. It's great workout weather. It reminds him of home.

He stops short when the lights to the field are already on and a person is there. He had been told that he could use the practice field early in the morning with the agreement that he would be gone before the Packers come for their workout, since Mondays are days off and the players tend to workout around midday.

He's so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he doesn't realize the other player is making his way towards him. That's when he recognizes the other player. It's the Running Back.

"You're not supposed to be here," he says, a frown upon his face.

Charlie drops his bag. "I got approval to practice for a while before my flight home."

"I doubt they agreed for you to practice while players are here," he retorts. He is scowling at Charlie.

He sighs because the Running Back is right; he doesn't have a right to be here with another team's player. But instead of leaving immediately — Charlie's Mom's lessons on politeness are so ingrained even in the face of such hostility — he simply sticks out his hand.

"Charlie Weasley," he says. The blonde only scowls even more.

"I know, believe me," he says sharply. Almost involuntarily, he rubs at a spot on his leg that Charlie knows his knee collided with yesterday.

Charlie grins at him somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

If anything, his apology only deepens the blonde's scowl. "You don't apologize for doing your job, idiot. And as this field is occupied, I recommend you find somewhere else to practice." Malfoy, Charlie remembers. Draco Malfoy.

Charlie can't help looking around them pointedly - the bright lights illuminate an empty field.

Draco arches an eyebrow elegantly. "I'm running routes."

Charlie shrugs. "I'm practicing tackles." He grins sharply. "Want to see if you can get past me one-on-one?" It's a jab he can't quite resist.

The glare is back full force. "You think very highly of yourself because of one game."

He shoves his hands in his pockets, still grinning. "I've watched most of the Packers recent games. I know how hard it is to tackle you."

There's a long pause before the blonde says, "Fine. Let's go one-on-one."

Charlie picks up his bag and quickly makes his way to the visitor's locker room. He puts on his practice gear on and dashes out the door. He doesn't want Draco to change his mind. When he gets back on field, Draco is waiting for him.

They line up across from each other. Charlie shifts his center of gravity, placing just his fingertips on the ground. It isn't their natural positions — a Safety and a Running Back wouldn't normally face each other so closely; they would have a line of offensive and defensive players between them — but Draco doesn't protest. He just shifts the ball, tucking it under his right arm.

"Three, two, one."

Draco doesn't move. His eyes flicker up and down Charlie's steady frame. He waits patiently. After a long moment, Charlie's weight shifts infinitesimally. At this small motion, Draco bolts, dashing in the opposite direction of Charlie's shift. He slips easily around Charlie's right side and he's gone before Charlie can touch him.

When Draco turns around, Charlie is laughing. "Gotta admit, those tapes don't really show everything you're capable of."

Draco just raises an eyebrow in reply.

They line up again and again, in different places around midfield. Charlie tackles Draco only twice. Very rarely does he even get a finger on Draco. It's half past eight before they stop. It's an easy sort of way that they manage to work, unlike the uptempo practices that his own team has. Before he leaves for the locker room to change, Charlie turns to him. "Your coaches told me that there wouldn't be anyone here until at least ten. What were you doing here at five?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"I like practicing in the morning," Charlie replies easily. "Besides, my parents and sister flew in for the game. They won't wake up until nine at the earliest. Wanted to spend the rest of the day with them without interruptions. Anyways, I have to go." He grins sharply. "Thanks for the practice. I'll see you in three weeks."

Charlie makes his way back to the locker room to shower and change. Draco is running the field by the time Charlie is leaving. And if Charlie stands there watching him for a few seconds, that's nobody's business but his.

.

When he arrives back in hotel suite, his parents are up and eating breakfast. They are both dressed for the day. His sister has set up her laptop on the table, her fingers tapping buttons quicker than Charlie possibly could. Her hair is messy, pulled back away from her face, and she's still in her pajamas.

They all look at him when they hear the door slam. "Char, I need a quote from you," she says immediately.

He laughs. "Can't even let me have breakfast, Ginny? Besides, can't you make something up? You know I hate interviews."

"You were the star player last night," Ginny replies, "and people love quotes from the MVP."

"It's not that big of a deal," Charlie says. "A forced fumble and a few good tackles. It's not like the rest of the team didn't do more."

His sister rolls her eyes. "Seriously, one quote is all I need. It's the reason you fly me out anyways. Don't try to hide it because I know."

"Fine," he relents. "I'll give you a quote so you can finish your article on the plane ride home. For now, let's just go explore. You up for that, Mom, Dad?"

"If you weren't gone, we could've started exploring an hour ago," his mom says. His mom is teasing, he knows this. They've accompanied him to most of his away games. They know by now that he trains in early in the morning so they can spend most of his day off with them.

He laughs loudly and ruffles Ginny's hair. "Doubtful. This one here isn't even dressed," he teases.

She immediately shies away from his hand. "There was no point in getting dressed if you were going to spend most of the morning working out," she grumbles, walking towards her bedroom.

Within fifteen minutes they're checking out of their hotel, ready to explore Green Bay.


"Welcome to the pre-game talk for one of the most highly anticipated games of the week."

"The Packers faced off against the Lions today," Lee says. "The Packers are looking for redemption from the 10-7 loss they suffered in their own backyard three games ago. The Packers have the benefit of a few clean wins in between against the Bears and the Vikings, while the Lions are, as seems to be quite typical for them, coming off a series of losses. Do you think the Packers can pull it off this time, Blaise?"

Blaise nods. "As you said, Lee, they are looking for redemption. In all my time, I haven't seen the Packers looking for redemption, but I'm going to guess they took that loss personally. More accurately, I think their Running Back took that loss personally, judging by his performance in the past two games. He rushed for over two hundred yards combined."

Lee grins. "Malfoy is already building himself a reputation for being rather… intense."

"You've got that right," Blaise agrees. "So far it seems that Malfoy Junior is inclined to follow in his father's footsteps. Lucius Malfoy was a Running Back most well known for his time with the New England Patriots, and he earned himself a similar reputation. Good players, but not the men you want to take out for a drink afterward. And Lucius Malfoy retains that reputation even into his coaching career, which is, I think, the only reason sincere questions about nepotism weren't thrown around when the Young Malfoy was drafted in the first round."

"And anyone who did wonder about it has since been silenced by Malfoy's phenomenal play," Lee puts in.

"That is true," Blaise agrees. "He is giving his father a run for his money."

"But they are going into the Lions' territory today," Lee points out. "Of their seven wins against the Packers in the last fifteen years, six of them have been in their own territory. Can the Packers' Running Back handle the pressure of being in the enemy's territory during such an important game?"

"He's proved himself against even tougher opponents," Blaise says. "And some of the them on the road as well. The only thing that stands between the Packers and their victory is the Lions' Safety."

Lee smile broadens. "I think more stands in their way than just the Safety. But he is definitely a threat."

"Weasley was the Lions' undisputed MVP in the last matchup. He has an apparently unmatched ability to go toe to toe with Malfoy and come out on top. The Packers' run game is strong and their pass game is, too. The Lions' offense is simply floundering in comparison."

"What it will boil down to is whether or not the Lions' defense will be able to hold them like their last meeting," Lee decides.


"It seems like the Packers didn't have to look too hard for redemption," Blaise says smugly. "A 45 to 14 win over the Lions."

Lee can only nod in agreement. "A phenomenal game for the Packers. They underestimated the defense last time, but it doesn't seem they did this time."

"They also kept the Lions guessing at what they were going to do - pass or run the ball," Blaise continues. "When they were passing, their Quarterback had plenty of time in the pocket. And when they were running, they picked up nice blocks for their Running Backs."

"The Lions just couldn't match it," Lee says, disappointment in his voice. He wanted them to win. "Their offensive line didn't know what they were doing."

A clip appears to their right. As soon as the Lions hiked the ball, the Packers defense had swarmed. The offensive line couldn't hold a block, allowing man to slip through unnoticed and sack the Quarterback.

"It seems that they were tripping over themselves. They had several miscues and missed blocks. It ended up being fatal," Blaise says.

Lee continues, "If it wasn't for the defense, this game would have been a total blow out."


Charlie's day off after a game usually begins with five am practice with some weight training after when it's a home game. By the time that he gets to the field, he's surprised to see another person there already. He knows it's not his team; they believe waking up this early every other day of the week to be sufficient.

When he gets close enough, he notices that it's Draco Malfoy. And the other man seems to notice him as well.

"Morning," Charlie greets cheerfully.

Malfoy nods at him. He starts to head off to the locker room, unbuckling his helmet as he goes, but Charlie doesn't want him to leave and doesn't know why.

"If you want, we can go one-on-one again," Charlie calls out before he can stop himself. He came out here to run routes, though he could use some practice tackling Draco specifically, figuring the Packers will play him in next year's meeting.

Draco turns around, stopping before he unbuckles the other clip on his helmet. From this distance, Charlie can't see his face but he has a feeling he's raising his eyebrow. "Why do you want to do that?"

Charlie isn't exactly sure. He likes the quiet company of the other man. He just doesn't want him to leave. "You didn't kick me off the field last time. It would be unfair if I did it to you."

Draco meets him at the 50. "I only agreed to one-on-one because it gave me an advantage. Practice for the next game. Practice in reading you."

Charlie laughs loudly. "Do you really think I didn't know? I'm not that stupid."

Charlie can see through Draco's helmet that he's furrowing his eyebrows. "Then why'd you offer, knowing we'd be playing again in three weeks?"

"Couldn't quite resist," Charlie replies. There's no real risk here, offering to go one-on-one, since, if Charlie is being honest, there's no way the Lions are going to the Playoffs and it will be nearly a year before their teams face off again.

So he really isn't surprised when Draco agrees. Charlie makes it back to the field, dressed in his practice uniform. Draco is still standing there.

Draco tucks the ball under his arm as Charlie gets into position. And it starts.

Like before, Charlie can rarely tackle Draco. Occasionally, when he looks like he's going right, he goes left and others, he won't change. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to Draco's decisions, making it harder to read him.

But when he does manage to tackle, it feels exhilarating. As he always does, he offers his hand to Draco, but Draco never takes it.

When they finish for the morning, Charlie takes off his helmet. "You know, I never have understood why you don't take help when offered."

"I don't need it," Draco says calmly. He nods to Charlie and then heads to the locker room.

Charlie can't help but watch him go. Draco disappears around the corner before Charlie heads to change.

.

After they are done, Charlie showers and heads to his sister's. While the rest of his family lives hours away, his sister had moved to Michigan with him. She had been offered a job writing the sports column for the Detroit Free Press.

He pulls into the drive of a four bedroom house in a quiet suburb. He forgoes the ringing of the doorbell and enters, knowing that Ginny always expects him on Mondays.

He is greeted by a small body slamming into his own. Arms are wrapped around his legs. "Uncle Charlie, you're here!"

Charlie smiles and ruffles the boy's hair. "Hey, Teddy."

"Teddy, you have to let him inside the door," Ginny says, her voice laced with barely contained laughter.

The boy peels himself off Charlie. "Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry bought me a new plane. Do you want to see?"

Excitement is radiating off him, causing Charlie to laugh. "Of course. Why don't you go get it?"

Teddy races up the stairs. Charlie goes to hug his sister. "Never a dull moment, huh?"

She shakes her head. "Definitely not." She motions him towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I was just about to make us some lunch."

Charlie agrees to lunch. And he watches her while she goes through the motions. There's something off, like her mind is somewhere else.

His suspicion is confirmed when Ginny is startled by Teddy's entrance. "Isn't it cool, Uncle Charlie?" he questions, his voice loud and echoing.

"Inside voice," she scolds him lightly. "Come over here to wash your hands. Lunch's ready."

The five year old puts the plane on the table and does what he's told. While they eat, Teddy chatters almost non-stop about his new plane, only pausing occasionally to shove a bite of food in his mouth. It's endearing to watch Teddy light up with excitement. "I want to fly one just like this when I'm bigger," he announces.

"And I'm sure you'll make a great pilot," Ginny assures him. She pats the top of his head.

"Hey, buddy," Charlie starts, "why don't you go and put your plane away? After that, we can go play outside for a while."

Teddy smiles brightly. Playing football outside with Charlie is a highlight of the boy's Monday. He takes off as quickly as his legs will take him to do as he was told.

Ginny tries to start cleaning up the lunch plates. But Charlie stops her with a hand on hers. "What's going on? And don't bother lying; I'll know."

She glances to see if Teddy is back yet or not. When he's not, she sags in relief. "I...I'm pregnant. Found out this morning."

Charlie raises his eyebrow. "And you're not happy?"

"I am," Ginny assures him. "We've talked about having our own kids someday. It's just I wasn't expecting it to be now, when both of our careers taking off. And we have Teddy to think about. It just doesn't seem like the right time."

Charlie rounds the counter, pulling her into a tight hug. "I don't think it could've happened at a better time. We all thought it was crazy that you and Harry took in Teddy when you were so young. But by raising Teddy, you have shown that you are a great mother. You have proved you can do it. This isn't any different than taking in Teddy. And Teddy is going to make a great big brother. Just talk to Harry. I'm sure he will tell you the same thing."

She laughs against Charlie's chest. "How are you always the voice of reason?" Her voice sounds thick with tears.

"I'm the big brother. It's my job," Charlie replies.

"Ready, Uncle Charlie?" Teddy asks. He's holding a football.

Charlie ruffles Teddy's hair. "Come on." And they both head outside.


"SUPER BOWL FIFTY."

Blaise actually holds his hands over his ears. "LEE."

Lee doesn't even have the decency to look abashed. "SUPER BOWL FIFTY, BLAISE."

Blaise makes a look that very clearly reads, 'Oh my God, why.'

Lee just grins back. It's his first time announcing for the Super Bowl. He might be slightly excited.

"It's the Packers versus the Broncos in SUPER BOWL FIFTY."

Blaise flops his head down into his hands. He counts to ten before he raises his head. "It was a surprise when the Packers joined the undefeated Broncos in the -"

"SUPER BOWL FIFTY."

Blaise's face makes Lee burst out into laughter. "Lee. They heard you. The first four times."

"SUPER BOWL FIFTY," Lee yells once more for good measure.

The cameras cut away from them, showing a screaming crowd of yellow and green and red and black.

When they come back, Lee is more somber than he was. "The Falcons nearly joined the Broncos here, as the Falcons and the Packers were both one loss teams. Until last game, when the Falcons lost by a point."

"Running Back Draco Malfoy has been a key offensive player for the Packers, managing a sixty-five yard touchdown run for that win last week." Blaise smiles so faintly it's almost not there.

"Additionally, their defense has been playing very well," Lee says. "They have only allowed a maximum of 24 points in a game to be scored by opponents. In your opinion, what do they have to do to win against the Broncos, Blaise?"

"Glad you asked. They can't underestimate the Broncos. They need to come out hard and fast, and they need to keep the tempo throughout the game."

"I think they need to blitz the Quarterback," Lee continues. "Their Quarterback, Cedric Diggory, poses the greatest threat as he has great accuracy, can pass efficiently, but most of all, he can run the ball. If they can limit his ability to do this, they can win this game."


The Lions didn't make it to the playoffs. This shocks absolutely no one, especially not the Lions. However, Charlie still flies Ginny and himself out to Santa Clara to watch the Super Bowl. Mostly for Ginny, for her sports column. A small part of it was so he could watch it live as well. He could've babysat Teddy and let Harry come instead. He was planning to — until he found out the Packers were going to the Super Bowl.

Ever since the first game against the Packers, he's been following their games. More accurately, he's been following Draco's accomplishments.

He can't explain the draw to the Running Back, but it's undeniably there. He knows that Draco is part of the rival team and it's supposed to matter but it doesn't.

Watching Draco dart across the field, reading the defense and responding without time for conscious thought... It's even more beautiful from the stands, where he can focus on just Draco.

The Packers win, though only just. Charlie can't help being pleased with this outcome, much as he isn't supposed to be. But he can see the suggestion of a smile tugging at the corners of Draco's mouth when they flash his face on the big screen, and Charlie realizes he's kind of gone on Draco. They've only had two sort-of conversations. Charlie is so, so screwed.

Still, he can't help slipping away from Ginny, claiming the need for a bathroom, and making his way down to the players area. It doesn't take him long to spot Draco in his uniform, his yellow helmet tucked at his side, blonde hair glistening with sweat as Draco attempt to glare it into submission. Damn, but he looks good in green.

He must feel eyes on him because he turns around to glare at Charlie as well.

Charlie can't help but grin at him. "Great game," he says.

Draco stops glaring. In fact, he just stares at Charlie, disbelief written on his face. "You came down here just to say that?"

"Actually," Charlie starts before he loses his courage, "I wanted to know if you wanted to join me for dinner to celebrate the win?"

If Draco was confused before, he's baffled now. "Why?"

"I told you: to celebrate," Charlie repeats. When Draco is quiet, he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "You know what? Nevermind. It was -"

"Okay," Draco agrees. "I won't manage to get out of here for at least another hour."

Charlie lets his hand fall. A grin spreads across his face. "That's okay. I have to take my sister back to the hotel. If you give me your number, we can decide on a place to go?"

Draco nods, holds his hand out for Charlie's phone. Wordlessly, he puts his number in and hands back the phone. He waits for Charlie's call to come through. "I'll call you when I'm done," Draco says. But his tone is questioning. He looks unsettled in a way that doesn't sit right in his face, as though his muscles aren't used to forming these shapes.

"Sounds great," Charlie agrees. He slips away, a smile on his face that he can't hide.

He makes his way back to his sister. Ginny, when she notices his presence, is grinning at him in way that typically does not precede good things for Charlie.

"Long line?" she asks, but her voice is too even.

"Are you ready?" he questions, choosing to ignore her jab because he knows she knows something's up.

Her grin just grows. "Oh, I'm ready," she says calmly. "Are you?" It's clear that her words have a double meaning. Charlie chooses not to acknowledge this.

He nods. "Let's get you out of here. I'm sure Harry and Teddy are waiting to Skype you," he tells her. He's hoping it deters her from asking any more questions.

She doesn't stop grinning, but she stops asking, anyway. Good enough for him.

.

Draco sits in his hotel room, flipping his phone over in his hands, contemplating whether to call or not. This is unchartered territory. He doesn't know why Charlie would want to go to dinner with him. It doesn't make any sense — he's given the man absolutely no reason to be interested in him. He outright admitted to using Charlie's kindness when they practiced together.

He knows his reputation, knows that most people believe him to be cold. He likes it that way. It keeps most people at a distance. It allows him to pretend that he's the perfect son.

But there's something about Charlie that he can't quite explain. He doesn't think Charlie is doing this for a laugh with his teammates. But if he's going to find out the full truth about why Charlie asked him to dinner, he's going to have to call.

He presses the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It takes two rings before it's picked up. "Hello."

"Charlie," he greets.

"Draco," he says. It sounds like Charlie breaths out his name in disbelief. But he's never heard his name sound like that. Even in disbelief it sounds like something treasured. "You called."

"You seem surprised," he comments.

"I didn't - I mean, I just. Fuck." Draco is fighting the urge to laugh when there's a long pause. "I didn't mean anything by it. It just seemed like you were confused when I asked so I wasn't sure if you still wanted to go. I wasn't sure you'd even meant to say yes."

Draco chooses to ignore the fact that he is half-right; he wasn't sure he was going to until the moment before he clicked the dial button. "Did you have any place in mind?"

"How do you feel about pizza?" Draco pauses. Charlie reads his hesitation. "I know, professional athlete and all. But you just won the goddamn super bowl, so if you've ever earned a pizza..."

This, Draco thinks, is a fair point.

"All right," he says cautiously.

Charlie's smile is in his voice. "Brilliant. I know a great place. I'll pick you up? Where are you staying? Oh, and do you know your shoe size?"

Dravo blinks. Repeatedly. He's glad Charlie can't see his shock.

"Yes...?" he says slowly.

"Grand, grand. I'll pick you up in half an hour?"

Draco isn't sure how to do anything but agree.

.

"A bowling alley?"

Charlie grins at him, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"A bowling alley?" Draco repeats.

"C'mon," Charlie says. "When's the last time you went bowling?"

"...Never."

"All the more reason!" Charlie says cheerfully. All the more reason for Draco to embarrass himself, maybe.

"I haven't been since a few times in college," Charlie adds. "So it's not like I'll be any better."

He looks at Draco, then, for more than just a moment. His voice goes soft. "If you don't want to, we can do something else. I just... Thought it would be fun?"

Draco appreciates the respect inherent in the offer. It makes him feel less like he's drowning in Charlie's wake and more like a passenger in the goddamn boat.

But he finds himself shaking his head.

"Let's do it."

And so they do. Charlie puts his own name first on the list, for which Draco is grateful, because he finds out Charlie was not lying. He is comically awful. On his first throw, he wanders up to the line, stops right in front of it, and chucks his bowling ball right into the left gutter. This whole thing is very reassuring.

His second throw is honestly not much better. This one makes it over halfway down the lane before dropping into the right gutter. Charlie turns around and he is grinning at Draco, smile broad across his face. The bowling alley is warm and his cheeks are red, clashing with his blazing hair.

He looks… happy.

It's something so simple, but it's been a long time since Draco has made someone happy just by being present. Something unknots in Draco's chest behind his lungs. He smiles back.

They bowl like shit, but the pizza is, as promised, fantastic. Charlie doesn't stop grinning at him. They talk about everything and nothing at all. Charlie talks about all his brothers and his baby sister with a soft fondness in his voice that makes something foreign curl up in Draco's chest and take up residence there.

At the same time, he's not all softness. His core is steel and his tongue is sharpened with wit. Draco, who can't help tossing sarcasm out like a second language, is pleasantly surprised when Charlie simply gives it all back.

They don't talk about football. They don't talk about their own teams, their work, but they don't talk about other teams, either. It isn't forbidden, but… it's nice not to think about it, if only for a little while.

Draco doesn't want to leave.


Charlie is very rarely what Draco expects. After they went bowling, it's Charlie who calls first. "I was thinking that bowling was great," Charlie starts out. "I was wondering if you'd like to do something like that again?"

Draco is, not for the first time, glad that Charlie can't see him when they talk over the phone. "Are you asking me out again?"

Charlie laughs. "I'm really bad at this if you're asking that."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Draco says, amusement in his voice. "And I'm also going to guess that you're in Green Bay."

"Yes," Charlie replies. "I don't have anything in particular planned, though; I figured this was your city and it's your turn. So how about it?"

It doesn't take long for Draco to agree. His date with Charlie was the most enjoyable thing he's done in quite a while. "Where are you staying? I'll come by and pick you up." Charlie rattles off his location. "I'll be by in half an hour. Oh, and dress nicely," he says, before hanging up.

He doesn't know why, but he takes his corvette. It's his favorite out of all the cars he owns. It's not like he's really trying to impress Charlie; he doesn't have to do that.

He pulls up to the hotel where Charlie is staying and parks. He debates for a few moments whether or not to go to Charlie's door, until he decides that he should go up. Knocking on the door to his hotel room, he resists the urge to fidget. It's a long few moments before Charlie opens the door.

Charlie is in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans, and Draco stares for a moment. Charlie mutters something about "gentleman," but it doesn't register for Draco. After a few moments, Draco manages to breathe in. "Are you ready?"

Charlie nods. Double checking that he has everything, Charlie steps out into the hallway and lets the door shut behind him. "After you." He sweeps his hand out in front of him, gesturing for Draco to lead the way.

Charlie doesn't say anything about his corvette and, for some reason, Draco is relieved. The drive to the restaurant is rather companionable, with a little small talk. It seems that the only reason Charlie's even in town is because he wanted a second date. It flabbergasts Draco; he's never actually had someone want to be with him so badly they'd fly to him on the off chance of a yes.

When they pull up to the restaurant, Draco notices the slight shift in Charlie's demeanor. It is upscale, but nothing like what Draco is used to. It's smart casual, whereas he's mostly gone to places that require black tie. His eyes flicker to meet Charlie's. "We can go somewhere else, if you'd like," he offers.

It doesn't take long for Charlie to shake his head, a small smile on his face. "No, it's alright. Let's do this."

Draco smiles at Charlie's words; the words that he told the other man during their date two weeks before. He leads Charlie to the hostess, where he give his name. They are promptly seated. That's what he likes most about this place, on the few times he's been - their ability to make a last minute reservation.

It doesn't take Charlie long to choose and Draco's been here enough times to know what he's going to get. He isn't surprised when Charlie orders steak and a baked potato.

When the menus are taken away and their drinks served, Charlie visibly starts to relax, obviously getting more comfortable.

"Your sister is the only one that lives near you?" Draco asks. He remembers Charlie's large family from before, but he speaks mostly of his older brother and his sister.

Charlie nods. "My sister came to Michigan for college. Her and her then-boyfriend had just adopted Teddy, Harry's godson, after his grandmother got too sick to take care of him. I told her I would help them get on their feet if she did college near me."

"What happened to Teddy's parents?"

Charlie grimaces. "A car accident. A drunk driver hit them head on," he explains. "Harry had been a police officer for a year by the time Teddy's grandmother got too sick. Neither of them wanted Teddy to go into foster care so they adopted him and moved here. Ginny got her degree in journalism while Harry transferred to Detroit PD. They decided to stay close after Ginny graduated. I think it was because they didn't want to uproot Teddy again after he already adjusted."

"You spend a lot of time over there?" Draco asks, intrigued. He's an only child. But his friends who aren't have always complained about their siblings. Charlie only talks about his siblings with pride.

"Every Monday. Mostly because Ginny reports back to my mom weekly. I tend to forget to call," he explains sheepishly. "What about your family?"

Draco shrugs. "My parents met while my father was coaching for the Tennessee Titans. My mother raised me in Nashville. Father got offered the Offensive Coordinator position with the Packers right before I went to college. When the Packers drafted me, mother decided to move to Green Bay."

"Must be nice to have your family near you," Charlie comments. Draco snorts at this. Charlie frowns. "I would love if the rest of my family were closer. I miss my other nieces and nephews."

Surprise lines Draco's face. "You have more nieces and nephews than just Teddy?"

Charlie laughs loudly at this. "Five nieces and a nephew, another one on the way," he replies. "But I mostly just see them when I'm Skyping my brothers."

He launches into a tale of how his oldest niece pulled a disappearing act on her father recently. "- and then Bill turns around and Vicki is just gone. He's freaking out, not sure what to do. He's calling her name frantically. Turns out that she had wandered into the ice cream shops she wanted him to stop at earlier."

The stories don't stop there. Apparently, getting Charlie on the topic of his nieces and nephews causes him to share every hilarious story he can think of. "- when I finally managed to make it back to Ginny's house, most of my family had decided to surprise me, since it had been a while. And that's when I noticed Teddy. He's running around with Vicki and Dom. He's chanting, 'the Packers won. The Packers won.' My sister can't keep the smirk off her face."

"Your five year old nephew is a Packers fan?" Draco asks skeptically.

"Apparently," Charlie replies. He's scowling but his tone is light. "Harry told me that the entire time they were watching the game, Teddy would cheer when the Packers scored, despite everyone trying to explain to him that he should cheer for the Lions instead."

Draco finds himself laughing at the idea. He doesn't mind the way that Charlie fills the silence with stories of his family; his eyes light up with happiness as he recounts them for Draco.

Draco is a man of few words by nature and Charlie seems to hate the idea of silence and doesn't mind filling it. When dinner is done, Draco finds himself feeling as he did before - not wanting the night to end.

But it does. Draco drives them back to the hotel, the car ride still filled with stories. Draco walks Charlie back up to the hotel room, mostly because he's almost positive that's what a person does on a date.

"We should do this again," Charlie informs him.

He knows that it's crazy. They live in two different cities with really only four months off a year, but he's surprised by how much he wants this. He just nods. "I'll have to check my schedule, but I think I have nothing going on next weekend." Charlie is grinning at him and it makes Draco think that he chose right.

"Okay," Charlie replies. "Let me know. I'll clear my schedule for you."

Draco doesn't know what to do. He's never really officially dated before, so he doesn't know if he should just leave now or if he's lingering for a particular reason. Apparently, Charlie notices his hesitation. Charlie takes a step forward and brings his hand up to the base of Draco's neck. He leans up and presses his lips against Draco's.

Before Draco has a chance to really react, Charlie is pulling away. It takes several heartbeats to realize that the warmth of Charlie's lips is disappearing. Draco moves forward, pressing his lips to Charlie's again.

"Good night, Draco," Charlie says when he pulls away for good.

He murmurs the sentiment back. Charlie disappears into the hotel room, the door shutting in Draco's face. It takes several long moments before Draco remembers that he should probably leave.


They go ice skating in early March, before the ice on the lakes has begun to melt.

Charlie recommends it, because apparently he owns a cabin in the woods. Like that's a thing that normal people do. They find a long weekend that they both have completely free and Charlie drives both of them up from Detroit to some place he calls Hale. Which Draco can't help but snicker at slightly. Charlie catches his snicker and smugly informs him that there is, in fact, a Hell, Michigan if he'd like to go there instead.

The lake, which is actually about fifteen minutes past the city of Hale, is called Jose Lake, although for some strange reason the locals insist on pronouncing this "Joe's". Charlie cannot explain this. Draco gives up on making it make sense.

Charlie, when he pulls his small grey truck into the driveway, relaxes in a way that Draco hasn't seen before. Some tension that Draco hadn't even noticed was present goes out of him. He grins at Draco, easy and bright.

It's too late to skate that night, so Charlie putters around the tiny kitchen and makes them both hot chocolate from scratch, heating milk on the stove and adding all kinds of spices. Draco, who burns toast and almost blew up the entire house the last time he tried to make a frozen pizza and is just glad he can afford a chef of his own, sits safely at the table and watches how easily Charlie moves in the small cabin.

And small it is. The bed is partitioned off by curtains and the bathroom is clearly an addition built after the original framework. It's small and red and poorly insulated and Charlie is clearly in love with the place, so Draco just pulls on another sweater and doesn't say a word.

Meanwhile, Charlie is wearing short sleeves. This, Draco has to question. As Charlie starts popping popcorn in tinfoil on the stove, Draco says, "Aren't you cold?"

Charlie laughs in surprise and turns to him. "I forgot I hadn't told you that, yet!" He pours the hot cocoa into a pair of mismatched mugs. "I was raised in Alaska," he says casually. "My mom went to college at University of Alaska and fell in love with it. And my dad fell in love with her, enough to follow her there when she moved for the long-term after college." He sets a mug in front of Draco, curling a hand around his own mug and checking the popcorn. "They lived there until just a few years ago, when Ron went to college and they moved to Colorado to be closer to the lot of us — spread across the continental US as we are." He shrugs. "After 18 straight years in Alaska, Michigan winters aren't so bad."

"So what you're saying is that when you said you had 'a bit' of practice ice skating, that was a blatant understatement."

Charlie shrugs again. "I mean, most of my siblings are better. Perce took to skating better than any of us, and Bill is pretty good as well."

Draco shakes his head. "You do realize that I've never been ice skating. Ever."

Charlie's eyes sparkle with amusement. "I kind of figured."

Draco scowls. "You just want to see me fall."

"Yes, because I dragged you out into the middle of nowhere with the promise of ice skating just to watch you fall on your ass," Charlie drawls.

Draco feels his lips twitch. "I've found out your evil plan. You can't fool me."

"Aw, shucks," Charlie says, snapping his fingers. "And it was such a good plan. So subtle. So well thought out." He grabs the popped corn off the stove and pours it into a bowl, which he slides across the wobbly table at Draco. He sits in the second chair, directly across from Draco. He curls both palms around his mug and inhales deeply through his nose. The noise he makes is pure contentment.

.

Less than an hour later, Charlie is coming to the realization that he did not think this through.

He most definitely did not think this through.

The thing is, he's never had a guest at the cabin before. It's his and his alone. If his family feels like skating they'll usually go somewhere closer to home. He has a second chair mostly for decorative purposes, and because Mrs. Long from next door will sometimes wander over when she sees he's home.

He does not keep an extra bed around for Mrs. Long.

It's March 7th. They've been dating for exactly one month.

Charlie did not think this through at all.

He's washing the mugs and trying to think of some way to bring this up without sounding incredibly creepy.

Draco has disappeared into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and he reemerges just as Charlie is drying the last mug.

Draco slides up behind him and curls his arms around Charlie's waist and Charlie can't help but notice how natural it feels. It doesn't feel like it's only been a month. Charlie leans back into Draco slightly. After a moment, though, he stiffens slightly, trying to figure out how to bring up the sleeping situation.

Draco feels his tension and leans in slightly, brushing his lips against the nape of Charlie's neck. "You know, I'm pretty observant," Draco says casually.

"Yeah?" Charlie asks, slightly confused.

"Yes," Draco affirms. "So, you know, I've noticed that this cabin only has one bed."

Charlie goes rigid, tries to pull away. Draco loosens his arms just enough to let Charlie pivot within their circle.

Charlie isn't meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it. I can sleep in the recliner. I wasn't trying to—"

Draco is smiling softly and Charlie trails off. "It's fine, Charlie," Draco cuts him off.

Charlie blinks at him. "I… Are you…?" Words are hard sometimes. Luckily, Draco appears to be telepathic.

"We're both adults," Draco says with a small smirk. "I think we can share."

Charlie swallows and then nods. The last month has been a few dinners and a few dates and a few kisses. They're trying not to assume anything is permanent when there's no evidence that this tenuous balance can last for any amount of time. No matter how desperately Charlie may want it to.

.

Charlie is glad he packed sweatpants. He doesn't usually wear them to bed.

He looks at the T-shirt in his hands. He knows he'll overheat if he tries sweatpants and a t-shirt. His body runs at a naturally high temperature.

Goddammit, he is an adult, and if he wants to sleep in the same bed as his… boyfriend? Person, whatever, then he will.

Although apparently not without having a nervous freakout in the bathroom first.

He's clutching the t-shirt too tightly in his hand when he leaves, but suddenly it doesn't matter because Draco is standing in the bedroom looking at the pictures on the walls in a white t-shirt and green boxers and nothing else and Charlie's grip tightens reflexively. He just barely manages not to stutter. He can't help the second look. Draco has long, lean, runner's legs. Charlie wants to do indecent things to him.

Charlie slides up behind Draco, resting his palms lightly on Draco's hip bones.

"Hey," Charlie says softly. Draco turns his chin toward Charlie and smiles faintly.

"Hey," he echoes. "Come to bed?" Draco invites, slipping around in the light grasp of Charlie's hands.

Charlie chuckles. "It's my bed."

"I know," Draco says, and his voice has dropped an octave. "Come to bed," he says again.

Realization hits him. "Okay," Charlie agrees without hesitation.

.

Draco squints at the shoveled off portion of the lake dubiously in the bright morning light.

"And you're sure that's going to hold us? We're football players, Charlie; we are not light."

Charlie, who is tugging his laces on his skates tighter, looks up at Draco, who has yet to even take off his boots, worn just for the trip downhill to the shore. Charlie looks like he wants to laugh, but he takes in Draco's face and he doesn't.

"It's okay, Draco. I've seen it hold heavier people than us. And it's March, and the temperature hasn't risen above freezing yet. It doesn't get any thicker than it is right now."

Charlie finishes tying his skates and stands, balancing on the blades like they're completely normal shoes. He takes a few steps across the snow-crusted shore, toward Draco.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

Draco inhales deeply. "God help me, but, yes."

Charlie's mittened hand brushes Draco's cheek. "I will not let anything that is actually bad happen to you, all right?"

Draco looks down at him, then glances at the lake. Then he nods, once, sharply. "All right then." He sits down in the folding chair and pulls off his boots, lacing on the pair of borrowed skates.

"The first step is the hardest," Charlie tells him when they stand right on the boundary. "Because it's the only one where you actually have to step. The rest of the time you should be gliding, not stepping."

Charlie steps onto the ice slowly enough that Draco can watch, and then he spins around, holding out his hand.

"It's just you and me," Charlie tells him, softly.

Draco nods once more, and then steps. He wobbles, grips Charlie's hand, and then straightens carefully.

"See? Not so bad."

Then Charlie lets go and skates away.

Draco watches his movements for a bit, but he knows he can't just stand in one place forever, so eventually he moves, but slowly.

Charlie turns around from where he's halfway across the lake, looking giddy.

"Are you coming?" His grin is huge.

Shakily, Draco speeds up a bit and Charlie waits.

Draco is too close when he realizes he has no idea how to stop. He careens straight into Charlie, in some sort of reverse mimicry of their usual career entanglements. They both go down hard, Draco landing on top of Charlie.

Charlie looks stunned for a moment. Draco is just thinking about apologizing when Charlie bursts out into laughter so loud it echoes across the frozen ice.

"That," he gasps out. "Was brilliant. Next lesson: braking."


After the, admittedly hilarious, flailing disaster that was Draco on ice, Charlie decides it is definitely Draco's turn to pick the next excursion. Draco drags them both to New York and tells Charlie to pack fancy clothes but will not tell him what they're doing. Maybe it's sort of oppressively sweet, but mostly it's just immensely frustrating.

They have a light, early dinner at an Italian restaurant near their hotel, near Times Square. Charlie, who has actually never been to New York City (because both the Giants and the Jets actually play in New Jersey and isn't that confusing?), gapes like the tourist he is the entire time. Afterward, they make their way to the nearby Imperial Theatre, where Charlie stares up at the display. "What does that even say?"

"Les Miserables?" Draco asks in perfect French accent. Charlie stares at him.

"You… speak French?"

Draco shrugs. "Father thought languages were important. The only way you truly understand people is if you speak their language."

"And exactly… how many languages do you speak?"

"Fluently? Just English, French, and Mandarin. But I know enough to get by in Spanish and Hindi, as well."

Charlie stares some more. After a minutes of this, he just says, "Jesus Christ you are incredible."

It's so emphatic and so surprising that Draco actually flushes pink.

"Thank you," he says, and it's so quiet and sincere that Charlie pushes up on his toes and kisses him lightly.

"Let's go see your crazy French play," Charlie says.

"Musical," Draco corrects. Charlie groans.

"Oh, God. Save me now."

As soon as they are away from the theatre, Charlie says emphatically, "That was horrible."

Draco's gaze shoots to him. "What?"

"Everyone died!" Charlie sounds as though he's personally offended by this. "Everyone interesting just died. Like… like, why'd they have to shoot the kid? IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SONG? Who does that?"

Draco blinks at him. "Um-"

"And they knew." Charlie continues ranting as though he's heard nothing. "Like, that leader guy—"

"Enjolras," Draco supplies, determined that if Charlie's going to rant, at least he's going to do it properly.

"Yes, him!" Charlie flails his arms. "He knew they were all going to die! He told them to leave if they wanted; he knew they couldn't change anything. So why did they all just… stay?"

"Oh my God." Draco is unable to stop himself. "Oh my God. No."

"What?" Charlie asks.

"You're Grantaire. No way." Draco is trying not to laugh, but he's not really succeeding.

"Who?"

"The cynic," Draco explains. "The one who sang the verse about… um. 'Will the world remember you when you fall? / Could it be your death means nothing at all?'" Draco lets a little bit of the tune of Drink with Me colour his tone instead of outright singing. "You're fucking Grantaire. I never would've guessed."

Charlie sputters. "I'm not— I'm not a cynic!" he protests. "I'm just… It didn't make any sense! They knew they were the only barricade left, yet they didn't think that maybe they should try again another day?"

Draco bursts into sudden peals of laughter again, and Charlie can tell this time it isn't directly because of his words. "No," he gasps out. "No, you can't be Grantaire. Because if you're Grantaire, then that would make me Enjolras. I am not leading a rebellion. No, no. If anyone is leading a rebellion here, it's you. You're going to like, fight for the freedom of all dragons, or something."

Charlie scowls at him and apparently decides that's not worth rising to the bait. "I'm not a cynic," he repeats. "I just think if you're going to martyr yourself you should at least make sure it works." Something in his face has gone quiet as he says this last part. Draco waits, wondering if he should ask. Charlie stares at the pavement for a moment, watching the sidewalk lines and avoiding them with his feet. Eventually, he looks back up at Draco. He sees the question in Draco's eyes.

"You aren't going to ask?" Charlie says eventually.

"Do you want me to?" Draco returns. Charlie clearly wasn't expecting that reply, and he thinks about it for a moment.

"Yes," he says eventually, so softly that Draco can barely hear it over the cacophony of New York traffic. "I think… yeah. But not here."

Draco nods, and they walk in peaceful silence back to the hotel. Charlie opens the mini fridge that was complementary with the room. He sighs.

"Do you mind? I cannot do this sober?"

Draco mutely shakes his head, slipping his suit jacket off his shoulders and hanging it up.

Charlie groans as he sees the mini bottles of cheap alcohol that aren't enough to get him drunk and won't even taste good in the process. He hasn't bothered with anything this cheap since college. He takes a small bottle of whiskey and empties it into a cup.

He sits down in the desk chair, facing the room. His elbows rest on his knees and his fingertips twirl the glass between them. He stares at the golden liquid as though entranced.

After a moment, he sighs and drains the whole thing in one go. He doesn't put the glass down, or stop looking at it. Draco slides into the armchair — close, but not too close.

"You've heard me talk about my brother George?" Charlie finally says, glancing up at him.

Draco nods.

Charlie pulls in a deep breath. "George… had an identical twin."

Draco is already concerned about where this story is going, between the past tense and the fact that this conversation started out with martyrs. But he won't interrupt.

Charlie has gone back to staring at the glass.

"His name was Fred. He and George were… inseparable, most days. They went to the same college, for the year they went, and dropped out at the same time. Went into business together in Colorado. They sold magic trick supplies, and prank equipment. Invented it, too. George and Ron still run the shop."

He takes a breath. "Christmas holidays one year, Percy was flying in early in the morning. Fred got the unenviable task of picking him up – the rest of them were already in town and I was still in Detroit at the time. Perce had to stop at a bank, said he needed to be able to do a bit of last minute Christmas shopping." He swallows. "The bank was held up by three men at gunpoint."

Charlie inhales, rubs his hands over his face, and then gets up and paces back to the fridge. He pulls out something else, he doesn't care what, and doesn't bother with the glass this time. It tastes like crappy tequila. He paces instead of sitting again.

"Fred… God. The teller was so young… not that Fred was any older but Christ. They pointed a gun at this fucking kid and Fred just… Percy tried to keep him down on the floor but they shot off a wild bullet and Percy couldn't keep hold of him and…"

Charlie sinks into the chair again, dragging his hands over his face.

"They shot him four fucking times. Four. And Perce just had to watch him… fall. And not get back up." He shakes his head. "And it didn't make a goddamn difference," he says, voice quiet. "The kid gave them the money and they shot him anyway. And then they left. And nobody ever caught them." His voice is cold and darker than Draco has ever heard it. He goes quiet for a minute, then, abruptly, "Fuck, I hate them. They… God, Perce has never forgiven himself even though it's not his goddamn fault and George isn't even whole anymore and…" He trails off, scrubbing at his face.

Draco stands and crosses the step between them. He reaches out, but his hand hovers over Charlie's shoulder.

"May I?" he says, so softly, but it carries in the quiet room. Instead of answering, Charlie throws himself out of the desk chair and into Draco's arms. He tucks his head into the side of Draco's neck and grips fistfulls of the back of Draco's dress shirt.

Draco curls his arms around Charlie and presses his lips into Charlie's hair.

"It's not your fault, either," he says, as gently as his voice can go.

"I wasn't there." His voice cracks on the last word. It's not disagreeing, but it's not agreeing, either. "It was three fucking years ago," Charlie mumbles into Draco's neck. "But it still hurts so goddamn much."

Draco closes his eyes. Unsure of how to respond, knowing there are no words for this, he tightens his arms and breathes deeply. It seems to be enough for Charlie and that's what matters.


It's two weeks later when they go for another date. Draco figures after his horrible date that he should let Charlie choose. Charlie drives them half an hour out of Detroit. He pulls his small grey truck into a parking space in front of a Zap Zone, complete with laser tag.

Draco raises his eyebrow. "You're joking?"

Charlie grins. "I thought it would be fun." He opens the truck door. "You coming?"

It's a direct jab. Charlie knows that Draco is too competitive to back down from a challenge. And Draco knows that's why Charlie says this. He yanks the door open and climbs out.

Charlie pays for a round of mini golf and laser tag. They do mini golf first. They get their putters, golf balls and score sheet. "Have you played before?" Charlie asks.

Draco shakes his head. But it's not unusual that Charlie plans things that Draco has never done. He enjoys bringing Draco out of his comfort zone.

As usual, Charlie goes first. He places the red golf ball down and takes a few moments to line up the shot. For those moments, Draco wonders if he has done this before or not. And then Charlie swings. The ball goes flying off the green, into a bush.

Draco doesn't try to hide his laughter. Charlie glares at him, but it lacks heat. "And you can do better?"

Draco isn't sure if he can, but Charlie has set a pretty low bar. He places a green golf ball and lines up his shot. It's all angles and force, really, so it shouldn't be that difficult. He swings. The ball rolls, barely missing the hole-in-one.

Charlie glares. "Luck," he murmurs. By the end of the first hole, it has taken two tries for Draco to sink the ball and Draco has given Charlie seven attempts before they call it done.

By then end of the eighteen rounds, Draco finds that Charlie is laughably horrible at golf. He has given up actually tallying for Charlie around the seventh hole. Charlie glares at Draco every time he laughs at a particularly bad shot. "I still say it's luck," Charlie grumbles as they take their putters back.

Draco just smirks.

After that comes laser tag.

Some hilarious, preppy high school boy puts on a fake enthusiastic tone and goes through a clear script about how to keep both hands on the sensors for the gun and what all the signals from the vests mean. If they go dark, you've died. They flash when you're alive again. Blah blah blah. It's basic stuff that Draco doesn't pay too much attention to.

Charlie takes the red vest, while Draco gets blue. They walk out onto a course which is dimly lit with spaced out neon colours with a balcony area and several obstructions. This...Draco can work with this.

"Your game starts in five," says pimply high schooler. Draco darts off to the other side of the arena and silently slips up to the balcony, dropping down into a crouch and setting his sights on Charlie, who has moved to one corner in what he thinks is a vantage point.

"GO," yells an automated voice.

As soon as the lights on their vest kick in, Draco fires. Charlie's vest goes dark, and Draco snickers slightly as Charlie throws his hands up in the air in the few seconds that he's "dead". He makes the mistake of not moving, still wildly looking around for where the shot came from. As soon as his lights flash on again, Draco pulls the trigger. Charlie goes dark. Yes, this he can do.

Charlie is looking around wildly. Finally, just before his lights go on, he looks up and sees Draco smirking at him from the balcony. Charlie takes aim, but as his lights go on, Draco fires and he goes dark, again.

Draco can hear Charlie's swearing from the balcony. Finally, Charlie takes some sort of hint and jogs off, ducking under the balcony floor so Draco can't track his movements.

Draco moves with stealth to the other side of the balcony and waits, still in his crouch. After a moment, Charlie pops out, all lit up again. It takes Draco a few pulls of the trigger this time, but Charlie goes dark again.

"GODDAMMIT DRACO MALFOY."

Draco can't help but laugh outright as he darts away, noting that Charlie is headed toward the stairs. When they finish, Charlie has been shot twenty seven times. Draco has been shot twice.

He can't help the smirk.

Charlie scowls at him, but it's too fond to be effective.

Right before the exit, Charlie stops in front of a grab machine full of stuffed animals with different NFL team logos on them. He pulls a five out of his pocket and feeds it to the machine. Draco cannot help but shake his head.

The machine comes to life. And Charlie moves the joystick to the right, and then backwards. It becomes apparent he's after the bear with the Packers logo on it.

He misses.

It takes a couple of seconds for the game to come alive again. When he does, Charlie tries again. He comes up short.

On the third attempt, the grabber touches the bear but doesn't pick it up. And the fourth picks the bear up, causing Charlie's eyes light up. But the bear falls halfway to the dispenser.

Before Charlie can try a fifth time, Draco moves Charlie out of the way. Charlie goes to protest but Draco doesn't pay him attention. The grabber has placed the bear in a much easier position to pick up.

It doesn't take him long to get the bear into the dispenser. He pulls it out and offers it to Charlie, smirking.

Charlie is glaring at him as he takes the bear. "I would've gotten it."

"Maybe after you wasted twenty dollars on it," Draco retorts.


It's halfway through the nine week long summer training regimen and Draco is already exhausted. He expected it from last year's camp, but it doesn't make it any less gruelling, practicing with the sun beating down. But it's Saturday, the last day of the week for him and he has plans.

He's almost done buttoning his shirt, when one of his teammates approaches him. Usually, he does his job and he doesn't talk to anyone and they leave him alone. And then his childhood friend was drafted onto the Packers' roster.

Theodore Nott played on his high school team before following Blaise to college. He hasn't changed much over the years; same dark hair cut nicely with his usual button down and slacks. Something that Theo's father instilled in him, not football coaches. He's leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed. "What's gotten into you?"

Draco simply raises an eyebrow. He moves to gather his keys, phone, and wallet out of his locker. Their teammates are loudly talking around them, paying neither of them any mind.

"Practice is done and you're going home," Theo elaborates. "I've never seen you in a hurry to get away from here before."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Draco asks, ignoring the question.

It doesn't seem to faze Theo. He simply shrugs. "My plans can wait for a little longer as I doubt they will be going anywhere. Your plans, however, seem to be on a time constraint."

Knowing that his friend isn't going to drop it, Draco tilts his head, motioning outside. He isn't surprised when Theo walks quietly next to him. When they are away from their teammates, Draco says, "Yes, I have plans."

"Who are they?" When Draco is quiet, Theo presses on. "Oh come on, the only reason you'd prioritize date plans is if you were, you know, dating the person."

He hates it when Theo is right. And he knows that he really isn't going to get away without telling Theo. Somehow the other man knows exactly what buttons to press to get information out of him. Draco sighs to himself. "You know the Lions' Safety." It isn't really a question.

Understanding passes Theo's face, for which Draco is thankful for; he doesn't have to explain anymore than that. "No wonder you didn't want to be forthcoming with the information."

"If it gets out that we're involved, both of our teams will think that we weren't doing our jobs because of each other," Draco says. "It could ruin both of our careers. And… fuck, I don't want my career to be about who I'm dating. You've seen what it does."

Theo places a hand on Draco's shoulder, forcing Draco to look at him. "I get it. No worries here. I know you well enough to know that you don't let your personal life and work life mix." They are standing in front of Draco's car. "Wait, the Lions have camp about this time."

"Wonders of a computer," Draco tells him, smirking. He's climbing into his corvette. "They've got Skype. Now, if you are done, I should be going."

He drives off to the sound of Theo's laugh.


Weeks later, the doorbell rings. Draco knows exactly who it is - Charlie. It was a mistake to agree to a date immediately following practice, but in four and a half months, he has yet to be able to tell Charlie no.

He opens his door. Practice may have been rough, being the last one of camp, but seeing Charlie makes his day a little better.

Charlie is grinning at him.

Draco moves to the side, allowing Charlie to slip inside. He knows that Charlie is going to ask him about their plans; it is his turn to choose after all. "What do you say to take out and something on Netflix?" he asks.

"Sounds great," Charlie agrees easily. "Got anything specific in mind?"

Draco starts toward the kitchen where he keeps his stash of take out menus from a drawer. He seldomly orders out; he has a personal chef because he's a disaster in the kitchen. His chef, though, is on vacation until tomorrow. But tonight, he doesn't even care. He shuffles through the menus. "Is Chinese good?" Draco asks.

"Sweet and sour chicken and rice," Charlie replies. He leans against the counter, watching as Draco places the order.

"Twenty minutes," Draco informs him.

Charlie nods. "We can get half-way through an episode before the food gets here," he says decisively. He disappears towards Draco's living room.

Draco is left in the kitchen, wondering when Charlie became so comfortable in Draco's house. It's not the first time he's felt so out of his depth with Charlie. He puts the menus away before joining Charlie in the living room.

Parks and Rec is already set up in the television and somehow, Draco isn't surprised that Charlie is a fan. He glances at the couch, where Charlie is already sitting off to one side, clearly waiting for him. Draco stands there for a moment.

They haven't done this yet: sit on the same couch and watch something on television. They slept in the same bed a few months previously while on their ice skating trip but sitting next to each other without any other intent seems more… intimate. He's found Charlie prefers to be active during a date. He's in uncharted territory; not that most of their dates don't leave him feeling like he's drowning in Charlie's presence.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Charlie asks, amusement clear in his voice.

Draco glares at Charlie. He takes a seat next to the other man, close enough to feel Charlie's body heat, but not close enough to be touching him. He tenses as he waits to know if it was the right decision or not.

Clearly, this amuses Charlie even more. Charlie places his hand on Draco's cheek, forcing him to face Charlie. Charlie's eyes are bright.

And then Charlie kisses him. It's brief and barely there. "Relax," he murmurs.

Despite everything, Draco finds the tension draining out of his body. Charlie must feel this too because he retrieves the controller and starts the show.


It takes a few weeks, but they finally find another weekend where they are both completely free from any obligations. Charlie keeps his plans secret, just telling Draco to pack for a weekend.

Suddenly Draco knows why New York was so frustrating.

Charlie flies them out to Orlando, Florida. He only grins when Draco asks what they are doing here. He checks them into the hotel. Draco is jetlagged, mostly from two plane trips in the same day, so it doesn't take him long to change and fall asleep on the bed. Charlie chuckles at this but he follows in Draco's lead, changing and climbing into bed with the blonde, curling around him.

When Charlie wakes the next morning, Draco is already awake and showered. The coffee is already percolating into the carafe.

By the time Charlie is out of the shower, a cup of coffee is already waiting for him. He takes a long gulp of it before he turns to Draco.

"Are you going finally going to tell me what we're doing in Florida?" Draco inquires.

Charlie grins. "How do you feel about Universal?"

Draco simply raises his eyebrow.

Charlie's grin doesn't go away. He just tilts his head towards the door. "You ready to go?"

Apparently, Charlie has bought them two day, park-to-park passes. He doesn't buy them express passes because, as he says, that would be unfair. Draco snorts at this.

They start out in Islands of Adventures. Mostly because Charlie wants to see Marvel Universe first. He drags them to the Hulk, the biggest coaster on this side of the park, which doesn't surprise Draco in the least. Charlie is an adrenaline junkie. This is Draco's first time at an amusement park but the idea of a roller coaster sounds fun. In theory. Charlie promises that the Hulk is well worth the wait.

It takes over an hour before they can ride, but Charlie fills this time with ramblings about the pros and cons to the Marvel and DC universes. When they finally ride it - front row because Charlie would accept no less - it's exhilarating in a way that Draco has only felt on the field. His adrenaline jumps the minute they launch quickly up the first hill and doesn't drop until the end. Charlie grins at Draco when they get off the ride.

He takes them on most of the rides in Marvel Universe. When they are done, they make their way through most of the rides in Islands of Adventure, progressing around the loop.

It ends with them in Hogsmeade. They are standing in line for the Dragon Challenge ride. Charlie is even more excited about this ride than he was for the Hulk, which is saying something. Draco can't help but question this.

There is excitement in Charlie's eyes. "Dragons are awesome, remember."

Draco simply raises his eyebrow. "You do realize that dragons still aren't real, right?"

Charlie laughs, loud and happy. "I know. But could you imagine? I would love if dragons were real. I would totally be a Dragon Keeper, like in the Harry Potter books."

"I'm dating a madman," Draco announces to no one in particular.

This only prompts Charlie to grin more. "Come on, you can't say that it wouldn't be awesome. Have you seen Game of Thrones? Those dragons are beautiful."

"A madman, indeed."

Charlie pulls Draco to him. "Says the man dating me."

.

It's late when they make it back to Detroit, exhaustion in their bones after a long weekend in Orlando during the height of Florida's summer. It may not have been Charlie's best plan ever but it was definitely enjoyable.

Charlie unlocks the door to his house and leads Draco to his bedroom. Surprisingly, it is the first time that Draco has been in his bedroom. He's spent several days at Draco's since he randomly drops into Green Bay without prior plans, but Draco usually has a hotel room when he is in Detroit.

When Draco enters the bedroom, he laughs loudly. Charlie turns to him. "What's so funny?"

Draco picks up the familiar green Packers bear from the nightstand. It is obviously Charlie's nightstand by the charger that is laying across it. "You kept it."

Charlie flushes slightly. "Why wouldn't I?" For that, Draco doesn't have an answer. Charlie takes the bear from him and places it back on his nightstand.

Charlie and Draco go through the motions of getting ready to bed. For the first time, he has someone in his own bed, instead of just curling up with the small bear. He can't deny how much he likes the feeling of Draco curling around him.

Draco will never admit to enjoying cuddling, but Charlie knows better. Charlie, smartly, doesn't say anything about. This is the side of Draco that the rest of the world doesn't get to see and he likes to keep it that way.

And then a thought hits him. He says, his voice low, "I am fire. I am death."

He can feel Draco's huff of laughter. He could get used to this...this easiness with Draco. Oh, how he could. In that moment, he realizes how much he really does care for the blonde.


A ringing phone pulls Charlie out of sleep. He rolls over, picking his phone up from his nightstand and answers it sleepily, without bothering to check the ID. "Hello?"

"Char, my water broke." He can hear the nervousness in Ginny's voice. It's all it takes to wake him up. It's not dangerously early, but Ginny wasn't due for another month.

Charlie sits up. "Breathe," he coaches. "Just breathe." Charlie can hear her sharp intake; a contraction. "How far apart are your contractions?"

It takes her a few moments to answer. Her voice is shaky. "Less than five minutes."

"You and Harry heading to the hospital?" He blinks sleep out of his eyes and checks the clock - 3:04 am. He wonders how long she's been ignoring the contractions and why his stubborn sister couldn't just check in to the hospital at a reasonable hour.

"Yes. We're on our way now."

"Good, good," he says. "You just focus on your breathing. I'll meet you up there to take care of Teddy. I'll handle everything else. You just keep breathing."

Charlie swings his legs over the side of his bed and starts to get dressed. Midway through, he's stopped by her speaking. "Mom and Dad need -" Ginny starts.

"What did I tell you?" Charlie scolds. "Just focus on your breathing. I've got everything covered."

"Thanks."

The call ends. Before he calls his parents, he sends Draco a text, letting him know what is going on since they were supposed to have a date later that day. He's down in his living room, picking up his car keys when his mom answers the phone.

"Charlie, it's 3 in the morning." He can hear the exhaustion in his mother's voice. His other nieces and nephews must be tiring her out.

"I know," he says apologetically, "but Ginny called. She's in labor."

He can hear his mother rousing his father. "Are you sure? Are the contractions -"

"Less than five minutes apart," he assures her, cutting her off. "They are heading to the hospital now. I figured you could let everyone else know. I'm heading there now, myself, to take care of Teddy for them."

"Yes," his mother replies. "We'll be taking the next flight out."

"See you soon, then." He ends the call.

And Charlie heads out the door. The dawn isn't even chilly, a downside to the middle of August. He's just glad it happened now and not in a week, when his season starts. He hasn't missed the birth of a niece or nephew yet. He doesn't want to start now. He relies on his car's AC to keep him awake.

.

Teddy is tucked against his chest, sound asleep. The sun has barely started to rise above the horizon. Charlie is exhausted but doesn't want to rouse Teddy to get coffee. The only thing that is keeping him awake are the infrequent texts from his family and Draco.

He's pulled out of his thoughts as his phone is plucked from his hand and replaced with a cup of coffee. Glancing up, he sees Bill grinning at him. He's the closest, only a five hour drive that he apparently made in four. If it were anyone else, Charlie would worry about that accomplishment. Bill, however, is an excellent driver even with adrenaline flowing, and even if he were stopped by the police, Bill could charm his way out of it. Bill could charm his way out of anything.

"It looks like you needed that," Bill says.

Charlie chuckles softly. He can't disagree. "Thanks," he murmurs. "Couldn't quite bring myself to wake him. It's the only time he ever slows down."

"What's up the update?"

Before he can answer, Fleur and their two daughters enter, rather loudly. Teddy stirs but doesn't quite wake up, for which Charlie is thankful. Bill pulls Dominique into his lap and she immediately rubs her eyes and yawns. Victoire climbs up next to him and falls back asleep as well.

"She's progressing slowly from what Harry's saying," Charlie informs him. "Mom, Dad, Ron and Hermione have boarded the plane and should be here shortly. George and Perce won't be able to make it."

Bill frowns a bit. "Understandable. Fred and Lucy are too young to fly. It's unfortunate that they will miss the birth, though."

Charlie mirrors his brother, feeling the frown tug at his lips. Ginny wasn't due for another month. "They were planning on driving up here around her due date, last I heard. But what can you really due when she goes into premature labor."

Charlie's phone vibrates loudly from the table interrupting Bill's response, and he exchanges the coffee for it. He can't hide the grin when it's from Draco. He types a quick response. And when he glances up, his brother is eyeing him skeptically. Bill wants to say something; Charlie can tell. But Bill doesn't ask.

There's a reason Bill is his favorite brother, and it's not just because they're closest in age.

.

Teddy, Victoire and Dominique are all playing as quietly as they can. Charlie is thankful that at least Bill had thought to bring toys for them because the thought never crossed his mind. It keeps the children occupied enough that Charlie can catch up with his family for a while.

They are talking about Ron's recent change in careers, from a police officer in Colorado, to helping George run his shop when Charlie's phone vibrates.

"Harry says they are about to start pushing," he announces. It's nearing five in the afternoon.

He doesn't bother replying to Harry since he would be preoccupied. He notices that he completely missed a text from Draco and replies.

It's not even half an hour later when another text from Harry comes through. It simply reads: "the baby has been born."

The first ones back are, naturally, his parents. His mom comes back with tears in her eyes and his father is grinning from ear to ear.

Bill forgoes his turn, insisting Charlie take it since he's been more involved with Ginny's pregnancy than Bill. There's a look of determination in Bill's eye that makes Charlie not argue. He takes Teddy with him. "Are you ready to meet your sibling?"

Teddy nods. "I hope it's a boy that I can play with," he says decisively. It's what he's been saying the entire pregnancy. Ginny and Harry both agreed they would prefer to not know the gender of the baby.

When they enter the room, Harry is hovering over Ginny. And Ginny, well, she's holding a blanketed baby in her arms. She glances up at the sound of the door. She looks exhausted, but Charlie figures that fourteen hours of labor would do that to a person.

Charlie picks Teddy up, putting him on the bed next to Ginny. Ginny grins as she tilts the baby for both of them to see. "Meet James Sirius Potter," she says proudly.

Teddy scrunches his nose is displeasure. "He's so tiny." It causes everyone to laugh and, in turn, causes Teddy to cross his arms and pout. "How am I supposed to play with him when he's so tiny?"

"You just have to wait until he's bigger, buddy," Charlie assures him. He pokes Teddy in the stomach. "You were that small, once upon a time."

Teddy shakes his head. "No I wasn't," he replies, matter-of-factly.

Charlie bites back another laugh. "Can I hold him?"

Ginny passes James to Charlie's waiting arms. The baby is small cradled within them. He is sound asleep. "You did great," Charlie says.

After a few moments of holding him, he passes James back. "Don't want to hold up the line," he tells her. "Besides, I have the advantage of living near you."

She laughs.


"It's that time of year again folks," Lee says, excitement in his voice. The Lions and the Packers emblems flash on the screen to his right. "The Packers are heading into the Lions' backyard. Who do you think is going to win, Blaise?"

"Packers," Blaise answers immediately. "Last season was great for them, but this season is even better. Malfoy has been performing incredibly, rushing for over 200 yards each game. Their latest defensive draft pick - Nott - has been a great addition. He has three sacks so far," Blaise has a hint of a smile when he says this.

Lee makes a note to ask him after the show. "By far, this will be the toughest game the Lions will play."

Blaise nods. "The fans can make the stadium loud and make it difficult for the Quarterback to think. That's when mistakes happen. And no doubt that stadium is going to get loud today."

"If there is one thing the Lions can do, it's that their defense can handle intense situations," Lee replies. A clip of a Defensive Lineman shows up. "Tight End Oliver Wood has joined the Lions this season. And what a player he is. He can rush the Quarterback; he can tackle; most importantly, he can get his hands up and bat down the ball. Wood has a history of being a key player in defensive planning as well — he tends to unite his defense into a solid line as opposed to a series of individuals. Between Wood and Weasley, they are going to make it tough on the Packers' offense."


The camera focuses in on Lee and Blaise. Lee is shaking his head. "The Lions couldn't pull off the upset," he reports.

There's a hint of a smile on Blaise's face. "They had a strong first quarter," Blaise comments. "Their offense marched down field for a touchdown and their defense held the Packers to a field goal. Their offense was on the field for most of it, allowing their defense to rest, which allowed better play from the defense. However, the Packers turned the tables quickly in the second quarter."

"The Lions' defense limited the Packers' ability to pass the ball. Wood, as expected, played a major role in this. He caused several incomplete passes by either tipping the ball or batting it away when he wasn't rushing the Quarterback," Lee says smugly.

"When the Packers couldn't pass the ball, they turned to running it," Blaise continues. "Malfoy played a key role in the second quarter."

"One of the most interesting plays of the game happened early second quarter," Lee mentions.

A clip appears. The Packers run the ball. However, the Lions were ready for this. Weasley tackles Malfoy. The whistle blows and, as usual, Weasley sticks out his hand, an offering. It pauses here. "What makes this interesting is," Lee narrators, "that Malfoy takes the help."

"Indeed, Lee. In his year and a half in the NFL, Malfoy has never taken any help from anyone. Rumor has it that he glares when someone tries."

"So what made him do it?"

"I don't know," Blaise admits. "But what I do know is that it didn't hurt his play. He scored two touchdowns in the quarter. The Packers were up by a field goal and a touchdown by the half. After the half, the Lions fought to keep up with the Packers' pace."

"There were several missed cues on the Lions' part. They received several delay of game penalties. The Packers' defense put pressure on this offense. Nott managed to get in there twice to sack the Quarterback."

A clip shows to their right. "Now, this blocked field goal attempt by the Lions," Lee narrates. The clip shows the attempt being blocked and the Packers running it back for a touchdown. "This should have put the Lions' within a score of the Packers. Instead, the Packers capitalized off this."

"After the blocked field goal, the Lions just couldn't score in the red zone, despite their several trips there. With the Packers offense running the ball and eating the clock, it meant that the Lions defense was on the field the majority of the fourth quarter. They were tired and wary, even with the rotations," Blaise comments.


Charlie grins as he enters his home stadium. The lights are already on and Draco is running routes. He can't help but stand there and watch him for a while. It's always fascinating to watch Draco dart across the field, with and without other players.

Draco must feel his stare because he jogs over to him. "Are you going to stand there staring all day or are you actually going to go get changed?"

Draco is already covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It's surprising that Draco isn't wearing his helmet, as he always hates when his hair isn't immaculate.

Charlie uses Draco's shirt to pull him into a kiss. They break apart. "You were great last night. Sorry I couldn't tell you that then."

Draco rolls his eyes, not understanding why Charlie has to point out something he already knows. He shoves Charlie lightly. "Thanks," he says despite himself. "Now go change."

Charlie, for once, does as he's told. He comes jogging onto the field in his practice uniform, his helmet already on. Draco is waiting for him with his own helmet on.

They stand across from each other at the 50. Charlie takes in a deep breath of the chilly November air and counts down. As usual, Draco waits until Charlie shifts slightly before he darts off.

Charlie knows it's from being too close, without their usual defense, that Draco can read him so easily and quickly. Unlike the previous times practicing together, Charlie can't get his hands on Draco.

Draco is smirking at him when Charlie pulls off his helmet. "Can't keep up with me?" His tone is light but his eyes have darken, implying something else.

Charlie glares. "You should know I don't have a problem with that," he replies, his voice low.

Draco laughs. "What are you doing after you see your sister?"

"I have nothing planned," Charlie replies. "Why?"

"I don't fly out until the morning," Draco answers. "I figured maybe we can have dinner."

"Draco -" Charlie starts cautiously.

"I know," he interrupts. "I know we have to be careful. I was thinking maybe dinner at your place."

Charlie's face softens. "Sounds great. I'll make some chicken noodle soup for us. I should be home about 4."

"I'll see you then."

.

Charlie has strategically positioned his television so he can see it while in the kitchen. He has the remote controller on the counter and Arrow season 4 playing. His front door opens as he is shredding the boiled chicken.

Draco appears in the doorway to the kitchen. "When you said you would make chicken noodle soup, I wasn't expecting it from scratch."

"That's the best kinda way to have it. The canned chicken noodle soup has nothing on homemade," Charlie informs him.

Draco rolls his eyes. "Arrow?"

"I'm behind," Charlie explains. "I'm just trying to catch up. But the remotes on the counter if you want to change it."

"It's good," Draco says. He pulls out one of the bar stools and sits, angling himself so he can watch Charlie and the television.

Charlie moves around the kitchen with ease, as he had done in the cabin in March. He pays a great deal of attention to the food and still manages to watch Arrow at the same time.

During a commercial, Draco finds himself asking, "Where'd you learn to cook?"

Charlie grins. "My mom. She was very adamant about us learning to cook. Ginny and I took to it the best. Bill and George can manage their way around a kitchen without burning or setting fire to anything. Just don't ask Ron or Perce to cook. They are disasters."

When he is finished explaining, he passes a bowl to Draco. And Charlie takes a place next to him. They eat in companionable silence, watching the Arrow without much commentary.

After the dinner dishes are in the sink, they migrate to the couch. There is really no need for words as they watch television together.


"For the first time since last years' meeting, Lions stand a chance to beat the Packers," Blaise announces. "What do you think, Lee?"

Lee perks at Blaise's comment. He's never heard Blaise sing praise about the Lions before, especially not versus the Packers. "I think you're right. They have two clean wins coming into this game. It seems that the offense is finally on the same page as one another, and the defense? Well, they are working like a well oiled machine."

"Wood had two sacks in the last two games," Blaise comments. "They limited their opponent's ability to pass and run. And their offense allowed the defense plenty of time to rest in between their time on the field. Now the question becomes, can the Lions keep this uptempo offense in the Packers' territory?"

"It will certainly be a challenge, but I think they stand a chance," Lee says happily. "But in order to win, the Lions' defense needs to limit the Packers' explosive plays and to limit Malfoy's ability to run the ball."

"They also need to be wary of the Packers defense," Blaise says. "Especially of Nott. He has four sacks in the last game alone."

A clip appears on the screen to their right. It shows the previous season's play, where the Packers' defense swarmed the Lions' offense. "As long as they can hold their blocks, pick up on blitzes and create a pocket for their Quarterback, the Lions offense may stand a chance of scoring."


The timeout ends and the players take their places. Draco pulls his breath in deep through his nostrils. The ball is hiked straight to the Quarterback, who slips it into Draco's waiting hands. Draco slides in between Flint and Pucey, practically making an opening in the space. He spots Charlie on his right up ahead and shifts, leaning out to the left instead. He can hear Flint at his right side, blocking for him: clearing his way.

Charlie gets close, but Draco knows Charlie too well by now. He knows the way Charlie plays, can catalogue every shift and pull of his muscles. Draco is in the clear, he knows this. Out past Charlie, he has only the Cornerbacks to contend with; a matchup he can easily beat.

He slips by, and as he does he hears the commonplace thud of bodies colliding.

At first, he doesn't turn.

But something is wrong.

The players on the field behind him are collectively holding their breath. Draco turns his head just enough, flicks his eyes back.

He stops running.

Charlie is flat on his back, but the angle his neck is twisted at looks terribly, horribly, gut-wrenchingly wrong.

Draco's right arm falls. He doesn't even feel the ball tumble out of his fingertips.

Time is wrong, too fast and too slow and wrong. Draco turns toward them then he's on his knees beside Charlie and he can't remember what came in between. It doesn't matter.

Charlie makes a sound, clearly involuntary, somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

Draco puts his hand out, resting it carefully on Charlie's shoulder. And then he's being pushed away by the medical staff.

He finally comes to himself, watching the medical staff work on Charlie. His helmet is off before he reaches the sidelines. Waiting for him is his father, a deep scowl on the elder man's face.

Draco goes to shove past his father when a hand wraps around his bicep.

"What the hell was that?" Lucius demands.

He yanks his arm free of his father's grip. He doesn't turn to face him. This doesn't deter Lucius.

"You dropped the ball," Lucius hisses, his anger a palpable cold fury. "You allowed a turnover on what could've been a touchdown play. What the hell?"

Lucius wants an explanation, but all Draco can see is the angle of Charlie's neck.

"It doesn't matter," he says finally, his voice flat.

Lucius' anger is a vivid thing, flaring out around him in a shroud. Draco still hasn't turned to face him. He doesn't need to.

"Doesn't matter? Doesn't matter? They have an opportunity to score off that turnover and it doesn't matter that you caused it?"

Draco starts to walk away.

He feels Lucius' hand on his bicep again. "Don't you walk away from me. We're not through. I expect you to explain to your teammates that your little crush," Lucius sneers, "cost this team a score."


"Now for the game that has everyone talking," Lee says. The screen to his right lights up with the Packers and the Lions emblems.

"The Packers scored a 24 to 3 victory over the Lions. But this game was not for the faint hearted," Blaise grimaces.

A clip of the Lions' safety being taken off field by an ambulance shows. "You got that right, Blaise. Just minutes before the end of the first half, Lions' Safety Charlie Weasley was severely injured. His family has released a statement that they are waiting to hear the diagnosis."

The clip of the play shows. Number 75 of the Packers is circled. "They hand off the ball to Malfoy, who manages to slip through the blocks his teammates provide," Blaise pauses. He circles Malfoy and Weasley in a different color. "Malfoy reads him and adjusts. He clearly doesn't see Weasley as a threat."

"Malfoy is two steps away when Flint tackles Weasley," Lee says. The clip zooms in, focusing on Charlie and Marcus. "Notice the way that Flint lowers his helmet as he goes to tackle. That is a clear indication of targeting, especially since Weasley was defenseless from a tackle from that area."

"It was the right call to make - the only call - but it seems like Offense Coordinator Malfoy disagreed," Blaise continues.

A clip shows the elder Malfoy angrily yelling at the referee as Flint walks off the field, helmet in hand and a smirk on his face.

"But what shook the fans was the fact that Draco Malfoy, known as a consummate professional, drops the ball," Lee says.

"No doubt it would," Blaise agrees smoothly. "There wasn't a defender around him when he dropped it."

A clip of Draco and his father arguing on the sidelines. "His father wasn't pleased with this outcome," Lee adds. "Malfoy wasn't on the field in the second half."

"But it seems that the Packers didn't need him to in order to secure their victory," Blaise continues. "In fact, their offense seemed to have score the most points during the second half."

Lee tilts his head slightly, frowning. "I think with their lead defender severely injured that the Lions struggled to gain their momentum back. They couldn't hold the Packers' offense. Their own offense had a few strong drives, but ultimately couldn't score in the red zone."

"It was a near blowout game."


Draco hadn't waited for the reporters with his coaches as usual. He makes a quick exit to the locker room and takes a seat on the bench, his helmet in between his feet. He's staring at the locker in front of him. Tonight's game is everything that Charlie and Draco knew not to do - let personal feelings onto the field.

He's not sure how he could've done anything different. Since they started dating, he's been starting to care more and more. And seeing Charlie like that twisted something inside him. But by dropping the ball, he showed the world how much he really did care without conscious thought.

His team came and went; his father hissing to him that they would have a long conversation later. He doesn't bother to even answer his father.

"Are you going to see him?"

Draco whips around, startled by the sudden noise in the otherwise silent room. Standing against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, is Theo.

"I don't know," he replies honestly. He turns back towards the open locker where his stuff is sitting.

Theo crosses the room in a few short steps and takes a seat next to him. "Why not?"

Draco meets Theo's questioning look. "He got hurt," he says. "And if by some chance he isn't seriously injured, which is doubtful, my actions pretty much outed our relationship. I'm not sure he wants to see the person who, either way, ruined his career."

Theo openly laughs. "If I were in Charlie's shoes, I'd be more pissed if you didn't come visit than if you ruined my career."

"He got injured because of me," Draco says. He rubs a hand across his face. "The only reason he was tackled on that play was because he got pretty close to tackling me. But he didn't need to be," he explains, barely contained rage lacing his voice. "He didn't need to be fucking tackled because I knew I was going to slip by him. So tell me how he would want to see me after that?"

Theo shakes his head. "It's football; there's always a chance for injuries. What Flint did was unnecessary, but you weren't the one to do it. And Charlie knows that. I'm sure he'll tell you that you're being ridiculous. If you were in his shoes, would you really blame him?"

Draco sighs. "No. But I'm -"

"But nothing," Theo cuts across him. "You're not to blame for that hit at all. Tell me: are you really going to let this define your relationship?"

Draco doesn't answer immediately. He scrubs his face again.

Theo pats his shoulder as he stands. "Just go see him. He will want to see you; I'm sure of it."


Even from the hallway Draco can tell the hospital room curtains are drawn back since it is bright. Draco knocks on the open door. When he enters, there are so many people in the room that he's surprised they all fit. There are Charlie's parents and a woman that Draco has seen with him frequently, his sister he recalls. There are two other guys and another woman in the room that he doesn't know. There's three children, a brunet and two blondes. His eyes flicker to Charlie.

Charlie's mother, a woman with graying hair and a tired face, is the first to break the silence that has fallen. "Who are you?"

It's enough to pull him out of his thoughts. "Draco Malfoy, ma'am."

"He plays for the Packers," Charlie explains.

Before Draco can say anything else, the boy with brown hair is in front of him, excitement in his eyes. "You play for the Packers?" he asks.

Draco glances up at Charlie for a moment, trying to hide his amusement, before kneeling down in front of him. "Yeah, I do."

"The Packers are so cool," the boy says. And then realization hits Draco. This is Teddy.

This time, Draco can't help himself; he laughs. "I think so too," he tells him. And then he looks up at Charlie, "I thought you were joking when you said your nephew is a Packers fan."

Charlie grins, bright and infectious. "No, I wasn't."

Draco is about to reply when Teddy tugs on his sleeve. He glances down at the child. Without thinking, he crouches so that he's at Teddy's height.

"Uncle Charlie just helped me finish a plane. Do you wanna see?" Teddy asks.

Charlie's sister is about to scold him when Draco asks, "You have a plane?" When Teddy nods, Draco smiles at him. "I want to ask your Uncle Charlie something and then I'll look at your plane. Is that a deal?"

Teddy's eyes light up as he nods.

Draco pushes himself upright and turns his attention to Charlie. "What did the doctors say?"

"That I'm lucky." He grimaces. "I just fractured my neck. With that kind of contact, we were all expecting a lot worse." He wiggles his fingers. "I don't have a loss of movement. With time, they believe I'll make a full recovery," Charlie informs him.

Draco nods. He knows what this most likely means. "But it -"

"Yeah," Charlie cuts across him. A sad smile crosses Charlie's face. And Draco knows that he hasn't quite broke the news to his family about this injury ending his career. Neck injuries, even if they don't damage the nerves, never heal quite well enough to play professional football without more risk than it's worth.

"I'm sorry." The words slip through his mouth easily.

"It'll be okay," Charlie assures him. He looks behind Draco at the clock. "As nice as this is, shouldn't you be at practice?"

Draco barely keeps the frown from his face. He fights the urge to shove his hands in his pockets. "Father is benching me for the foreseeable future."

"Why?"

He would rather not have this conversation, especially not in a room full of Charlie's family. But it seems that no one is going to interrupt their conversation. "Father believes football is the most important thing, and I disagreed."

Understanding passes Charlie's face. "What are you going to do?"

"Speak to my mother," Draco replies evenly. "If anyone can convince my father of anything, it's her." He shrugs. "If she can't persuade him, I'll threaten to get myself traded." One corner of his mouth lifts, but it's bitter, displeased. "I'd rather stay, but..."

He notices Teddy standing next to the bed with the plane in his small hands. The other two - who he is assuming are Victoire and Dominique - are curled up against their father. Draco turns his attention Teddy, knowing that he doesn't have to explain more to Charlie; he understands what he isn't saying. "What kind of plane do you have?"

Teddy chatters about the plane and how Charlie helped him build it. He talks about how he has more planes at home and that Uncle Harry usually builds them with him.

It takes some coaxing, but eventually Victoire and Dominique join them. Teddy allows his cousins to play with his second plane as he describes the first to Draco.

Draco isn't sure how much time has passed when his phone vibrates. Without looking he knows it's his mother calling him. He pats Teddy on the head. "I have to go, but your plane is great."

Teddy smiles at him.

"You didn't have to do that," Charlie tells him.

Draco shrugs. "I know. I wanted to. He's a great kid."

"I think you made his day," Charlie's sister adds. "Thanks."

"I'll see you later." He is answering his phone by the time he leaves the room.

.

As soon as the blonde leaves room, Charlie can feel the eyes of his family. His older brother is the first to say anything. "What was that?"

"Yeah," Ginny starts, in a voice that doesn't end well for Charlie. "What was that?" There's a smirk on her face.

Charlie rubs his face. He doesn't know where to start. "We're dating?"

"When did this happen?" Bill asks. "How?"

Ginny answers this for him. "When the Packers won the Super bowl in February, if I'm not mistaken."

If Charlie could turn his head, he thinks he would have whipped his head quickly to look at his sister. "How did you know?"

"Please, lines to the bathroom are long, but not that long. And you didn't come back to the hotel until after midnight," she says, rolling her eyes.

"That long and we're just now meeting him?" his mom demands. Her hands are on her hips and a frown on her face.

Charlie looks sheepish. "We were still trying to figure it out. We live in different cities with crazy schedules. We didn't know of we were going to work out, especially during the season. It seemed pointless to introduce him to you all if we didn't know how we were going to work."

This explanation, however, doesn't appease his family. "It's been eight months," Bill says, pointedly.

"I was gonna ask him 'round for Christmas," Charlie admits.

His mother gives him a stern look. "You better, young man."

If Charlie could, he would've nodded.


A cartoon is playing on Charlie's television for James, as he helps Teddy with a new plane. Ginny comes into the room, balancing three cups of hot chocolate in her arms.

He honestly has been enjoying the time with his family. Ginny has been over to his house every day since he was injured a month ago and hasn't been able to drive; mostly because if someone isn't watching him, he'll do something he shouldn't - like take off his neck stabilizer.

Ginny scolded him, but he maintains that the stabilizer isn't necessary anymore. She glares at this and Charlie keeps it on because she is terrifying when she is angry.

He takes the cup from her when she offers it with a quiet, "Thanks." He takes a long sip of it before he places it on his coffee table.

She nods. She glances down at the nearly complete plane. "We'll head home once you get done. It's already past Teddy's bedtime."

James starts to cry, causing Ginny to pick him up. She places him on the ground to change him.

The living room falls quiet as Charlie and Teddy work on the plane and Ginny rocks James in the recliner. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening shatters it. Ginny frowns. "Charlie?"

"In here!" he calls out. He can hear a thud and the closing of his front door.

A few moments later, Draco appears in the doorway to the living room. "I didn't mean to -"

"You're not interrupting," he cuts across him.

Ginny is smirking at them. "Definitely not," she assures them. "We were just about to leave anyways."

"Aunt Ginny," Teddy whines, flashing her puppy dog eyes.

She simply shakes her head. "I told you earlier that we were leaving when Uncle Charlie finished helping you with your plane. Your plane is done and it is well past your bedtime," she tells him sternly.

Teddy looks to Charlie, puppy dog eyes flashing at him. If Charlie didn't know how scary his sister could be when she's angry he might've given into Teddy. He ruffles the boy's hair. "She is right."

He pouts.

Ginny is putting James into his carseat. "Say your goodbyes," she instructs, her tone firm.

Teddy hangs his head in defeat. "Bye Uncle Charlie, Mister Draco."

Draco seems surprised to be addressed by the boy. "Bye Teddy," he replies.

Charlie repeats it. Ginny places her hand on Teddy's shoulder, ushering him out of the living room. "Bye Char. I'll call you later."

"Do you -"

She shakes her head. "I got it," she replies.

Charlie moves from the floor to his couch. He picks up the remote and changes the channel. He starts snapping off his neck stabilizer.

Draco takes a seat next to him. He looks exhausted but Charlie figures that's what a four hour flight immediately following a game does to a person.

"Isn't this a surprise?" Charlie jokes, a grin on his face.

"That's kind of the point," Draco retorts with a roll of his eyes.

Charlie ignores this. "Great game. It puts the Packers into the playoffs."

"I suppose it does," he replies.

"When do you start practicing for it?"

Draco shrugs. "On Tuesday."

Charlie turns his whole body to face Draco; he knows better than to turn his neck. He is grinning. "Only two days and you came here?"

"You sound surprised," he comments. He tenses slightly, despite his easy tone, as if he didn't know if he made the right choice.

Charlie grins wider. "No. Just happy." Draco relaxes a bit, but Charlie has something he's been waiting to talk to him about.

Draco must notice something is off. He simply raises his eyebrow.

"Since my NFL career is over, I've been looking into other options," Charlie starts. When Draco is silent, Charlie continues on. "There were a few options, but ultimately, there's a position for the a Community Center Director in Green Bay that I'm probably going to take."

It takes a few minutes for the information to process. "What about your sister?"

Charlie frowns. "I enjoy being near them, but it isn't everything. Besides, this is the best offer I've gotten."

"You're not doing this because of me?" Draco asks.

If Charlie wouldn't have known better, he would've thought that Draco wasn't thrilled with the idea of him being in Green Bay. He chuckles. "Not that it didn't cross my mind, but no. I put in applications pretty much everywhere there was an opening. The Green Bay Community Center just had the best offer. I thinks it's the place where I can help the most."

"When do you start?"

"As soon as I'm healed enough not to have to wear the neck brace," Charlie answers. "So I'm hoping mid-February."

"I'm assuming you'll either sell this place or Ginny and Harry will move here and sell theirs," Draco says, his tone questioning.

It is times like these that Charlie wishes he could move his neck. He makes a noise of disagreement. "When Ginny moved here, I made sure they got a big enough house because I knew they wanted more kids. I've already paid this off. I'll probably find a family in need to stay here. No point in selling it if it's already paid off when I can help those in need."

Draco rolls his eyes. "You are too nice for your own good."

"You would think that," Charlie retorts.

"Have you figured out living arrangements in Green Bay?" Draco asks.

Charlie reaches up to rub the back of his neck, as he usually does when he's nervous, when he remembers it's a bad idea. Draco recognizes the movement.

"You're asking to move in with me?" Draco cannot keep the disbelief out of his voice.

Charlie frowns. "Why wouldn't I?" he asks. "The last few months have been great."

"Dating and living together are different thing," Draco points out.

"And?" Charlie prompts. After a moment, Charlie looks softly at Draco. "Look, I'm in love with you. But if you don't want to move in together, I can understand it and will respect it."

There's a long pause. And then Draco shifts forward and brings his hand up to Charlie's neck, holding it still, before he presses his lips against Charlie's. Charlie almost instantly kisses back. Draco pulls back when he can feel Charlie gasp as he moves his neck to gain better access.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"You," Draco starts. He takes another breath. "I love you too."

Charlie's eyes widen when Draco says this. "This was an awful time to say that," Charlie informs him, his eyes dark. "We can't celebrate it."

Draco laughs, understanding Charlie's line of thinking. "When you're better," he promises. "And yes, you can move in."


"It's time for Super Bowl fifty-one," Blaise announces. He looks relieved when his co-host doesn't shout this in excitement.

"The Bengals joins the Packers this year. Last year, as many of you would recall, the Packers faced the Broncos," Lee recalls.

"The Packers pulled a 35-28 victory over the undefeated Broncos," Blaise says. "And they were able to do that by limiting Quarterback Cedric Diggory's ability to pass the ball and ending explosive plays before they could happen. However, the Bengals are a whole different style."

"They run a triple offense. Either their Quarterback, Roger Davies, hands it off to their Running Back or Half Back or he runs it himself," Lee explains. "It's not an overtly hard offense to read. It's the reaction time that will be key for the Packers defense. They need to force Davies to throw the ball because it's clear that he lacks the confidence to do so."

A clip appears to their right. The offensive line forms a pocket around Davies, and he waits. He notices the man down field, but he missed him when he throws the ball. Another clip shows the same thing, Davies cracking under the pressure and throwing an interception.

"What do you think the Packers need to do this time to win?"

"They need to utilize their major players. Ever since the dropped ball in the Lions versus the Packers, Malfoy hasn't been on the field as often as usual," Lee comments.

"Very true," Blaise agrees. "I think that they haven't been utilizing Malfoy as much as they could have in recent games. I think they have no choice today but to play him if they want to win. He made one error in that game, and obviously coach Malfoy can't look like he's playing favorites. But if anything it looks like he's been doing the opposite, and the Packers need their Offensive Coordinator to remember he's not on Family Feud if they want to win another Super Bowl."

"I think you're right. The Bengals defense has given up the least amount of points per game this season; mostly due to their controversial Defensive Coach, Luna Lovegood. Ms Lovegood has risen to her current position quickly, and it's not hard to see why as the Bengals - like the Packers - enter the Super Bowl undefeated."


There is literally no time on the clock, hasn't been in at least ten seconds. The Packers had been backed up to their own five yard line with three seconds left, when the ball had been hiked and handed off to Draco. A questionable decision by the Offensive Coordinator if people didn't know Draco's capabilities.

Charlie, and the whole stadium, had watched with their breaths held as the Packers picked up several nice blocks for Draco. Beyond the Cornerbacks, nothing stands in his way, as he's too agile to catch. Charlie shouts in excitement as Draco scores the game winning touchdown.

He, gently as possible, climbs down to the field. The Packers are still on the field, celebrating with the crowd of excited fans. He makes his way toward Draco.

He spots Draco near his father, Head Coach, Defensive Coordinator and the news reporters, the clips to his helmet undone. Charlie knows that Draco usually doesn't care for public displays of affection. But he's found there are times that Draco doesn't mind it though, like for celebration. He makes his way up to Draco, ignoring everyone, and pulls Draco's helmet off.

With his other hand, he uses Draco's grass stained white jersey to pull him into a hard kiss. It doesn't take him long to respond to the kiss. Charlie can feel Draco's hand tangle in his hair oh so carefully, can feel the beat of his heart beneath his hand. For a few long moments, nothing else exists but Draco.

When they part, Charlie is grinning at him.

"You just won the Super Bowl," Charlie informs him, as if he didn't already know.

Draco smirks. "I guess I did." He looks at Charlie, who is wearing a green number 5 Packers jersey - a replica of his home jersey. "How about we go celebrate with bowling?" he suggests.

Charlie laughs. And that's when he knows it's going to be alright. He may not be able to play professionally anymore, but he has Draco and that's enough.