Disclaimer: All of the characters belong to JK Rowling. No profit is made nor ownership implied.

Author's Notes: Written for daisychaindrabbles on LJ, using the optional prompt of 'Valentine's Day'. The title is taken from Los Campesinos. Thanks to emansil_08 for the beta.


Ron was drinking coffee and listening to the wireless in James' wonderfully silent house when the fireplace sprang to life. Ron grinned as Albus' tousled head appeared in the flames.

"They're not here," Ron said, as he silenced the Quidditch discussion on the wireless.

Albus swore then asked, "Why not?"

"Valentine's."

Albus swore again. "Of course it is. You're babysitting?"

Ron nodded.

"Mum doesn't usually let anyone else get a look-in when it comes to spending time with her granddaughters."

"But it's Valentine's. You know your parents go out for a romantic candle-lit supper every year. Ginny will always choose that even over a chance to coo at the twins."

Albus pulled a face. "I try to forget these things. It's only a way for florists to guilt men into spending money."

"You know I agree. And the bloody flowers only last a week by which time they've stained the furniture with watermarks and pollen. You'd better not interrupt your brother, though, unless it's urgent."

"It can wait. The restaurants are as bad as the florists. I bet it's the only night of the year some of those grotty places in Hogsmeade get booked out." Albus looked thoughtful. "When we were little, you always used to babysit for us on Valentine's night, too."

"Keeps me safely out of it. Soppy, yucky load of tripe."

Albus grinned at his uncle. That had been a running joke between them all. When he'd been younger, Ron had spent every February amusing his nieces, nephews and kids with his vomit-noises whenever romance had been mentioned. Then Victoire and Teddy had stopped laughing because they had found each other, James had betrayed them by getting a girlfriend and eventually marrying her, and one by one the rest of Albus' generation had fallen for all that sentimental rubbish.

"I was going to try to talk James into going out for a drink. No point going to the pub now," Albus grumbled. "It'll just be full of couples gazing at each other and holding hands."

Ron pulled a face. "You want to Floo through and have a drink here?" he asked.

"Can you guarantee me a lovey-dovey-free zone?"

"You know I can."

As Albus' head withdrew from the grate, Ron filled a couple of glasses with Firewhiskey. When Albus stepped onto the hearth, he handed him one.

"Thanks. You checked on my little nieces?" Albus asked.

"Couple of times." Ron nodded. "Fast asleep. Do you want to go up and have a peek at them?"

"Nah. They're no fun when they're asleep. I like them best when they're crawling around causing mischief."

"There speaks someone who's never been a parent."

"Not likely to be," said Albus, making himself comfortable on the couch. He patted the seat beside him. "You never gone out for Valentine's Day? Never gave Hermione chocolates or anything?"

"Wasn't like that with us," Ron replied, sitting on the other end of the couch. "I remember when I used to babysit for you lot we'd all take the piss out of that crap. Now James is buying into it hook, line and sinker. He used to be fun. You know he had a coach and horses booked to take them to the restaurant?"

"That's so corny! Did she fall for it?" Albus sipped his drink.

"She was all big eyes and simpers. You should see the cards they got each other."

"No thanks. Even Lily will be out this year. I remember her saying she'd been asked out by Lysander Scamander. So she's lost to the cause of rationality now, too."

There was a pause as the two of them sipped and stared into the fire.

"Mind you," Ron said after a few minutes. "That Lysander is a good-looking boy."

"I know," Albus agreed, "even I'd be tempted to put up with a soppy date first for a chance to jump him."

Ron's head spun round to look at his nephew in surprise. "I didn't know you were, um -"

"This family's not great at communicating that sort of information, is it? I didn't even know you were until last week."

Ron blushed through his grizzled stubble and his laughter-lines, right up to his silver-speckled hairline. Albus watched the progress of the blood under his skin.

"My mum doesn't think it's a fit subject for children to hear about," Ron muttered. "She let me be if I kept it quiet."

The two men gazed into their drinks. They were both thinking. Ron snuck a glance at his nephew and found that the young man was already looking at him. They ran their eyes over each other's bodies then ended up looking into each other's eyes: both the same colour of clear blue with the same flames reflected on them.

"Another drink?" Ron asked.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Albus replied.

Ron laughed. "I thought you'd prefer that to the 'Roses and Violins' method."

Albus grabbed Ron's broad shoulders and hoisted himself round in one smooth movement until he was on his knees, facing Ron and straddling his lap. "Or we could just cut the crap," he said in a deep, seductive voice which Ron had never suspected that he possessed. "I've fancied you for years, I'm young and attractive. Why don't we just get on with it? I bet you've got loads to teach me and I'm certainly eager to learn."

Ron was very distracted by the proximity of their groins, but he managed to protest, "Here? Now? They'll find us."

"James is under orders to take a very long time over the coffee and heart-shaped chocolates." Albus dipped his neck and brought their mouths together for a long, hard kiss. He pulled away to add, "But he did tell me to spare the couch by taking you up to the guest room."

Ron swore as he was pulled to his feet, trying to work out just how scheming his beloved nephew had been in setting this up and whether he really cared. "Bloody Slytherins!" he muttered as they stumbled up the stairs.