Choices

Chapter 7: First Date

Charlie only needed one adjective to describe himself the day of his first date with Oliver and that was "nervous". Bill had attempted to prepare him with all sorts of advice that didn't in any way apply to Charlie's peculiar situation. Everything about this date was completely foreign to him. Not only was it with a guy, but it was occurring in the middle of the afternoon, and would only last an hour because it was technically Oliver's lunch break.

"They normally give me more time during the day than just over an hour." He'd said. "But the day before a game is crucial. We don't practice much so we won't injure ourselves before the game. We mostly spend all day talking tactics."

Charlie was both terribly depressed and extremely grateful at the idea of only having an hour with Oliver. He was liking Oliver more and more and the excitement of this new relationship was palpable. However, there was that nagging doubt in his mind that said he was going to wreck everything, and at the very least if he ruined things he could get out of there in an hour. Oliver made him nervous, and Charlie was very aware that he did not cope well with nerves.

Deciding not to think about what would happen if he screwed this up, Charlie chose to think positively. He apparated directly outside Oliver's flat and waited for him to arrive and let down the magical barrier for him.

Oliver appeared not even a minute after Charlie apparated outside his building. The first thing Oliver noticed was that he was wet, or at least his hair was. The second thing was that Oliver's skin was much pinker than usual. It was apparent he'd just showered. He was wearing royal blue track shorts and a matching exercise shirt, making Charlie feel completely overdressed in the slacks and collared shirt he'd spent way too long picking out. On Oliver's wrist was a small gold watch with a quaffle where the twelve mark should have been. Both the hands were brooms, but the minute hand had a bludger at one end of the broom, while the hour hand had a snitch at the end of its broom.

"Hey." Oliver said, leaning in.

Charlie panicked for a split second, unsure what to do as Oliver closed in on him. Were they supposed to kiss? But the moment passed with no touching of the lips. Instead, Oliver pulled Charlie into a hug, pressing his firm stomach against Charile's body. Charlie had to work hard not to drool.

Oliver pulled back and placed his hands on Charlie's shoulders. "You know." He began. "I just noticed I'm taller than you."

Charlie tried not to blush. He'd hit his growth spurt young and had been taller than the other kids for a long time, then after a while the other kids kept growing and he stopped. He knew standing at 5'8" was nothing to write home about, especially when the guy he was dating had a full two inches on him.

Apparently Charlie had failed at not blushing because Oliver smirked and pushed him toward the door. "Come on." He said. "It's two flights up, do you mind legging it?" He asked.

Charlie shook his head and they trekked up two flights of polished brass stairs until they reached Oliver's flat.

Oliver pulled out a large brass key, pushed it in the lock, and turned it. Immediately Charlie could hear a series of locks being opened from the inside until there was one final click right at the knob. Oliver pulled him in.

Charlie could do nothing but stare at the inside of Oliver's flat. The door opened into an extremely spacious living room filled with Quidditch gear. On one wall was a large rack containing three brooms. On another wall were a two bins with various balls in them and a large fireplace. One held Quaffles, and the other held several large medicine balls. In a corner were a series of binders stack on a round glass table, some of which had papers spilling out the sides. Charlie could tell from the papers that the binders were filled with Quidditch plays. Another corner had a revolving round, glass curio case with photos of family members and Quidditch players, trophies, and medals on each of the shelves. The top shelf was the largest one and was completely empty. There was a very comfortable looking white couch on the wall to the right, with several yoga mats sticking out from behind it. But it wasn't the size of the room or the fact that Oliver's flat was completely Quidditch-oriented that disturbed him. It was the almost foreign smell coming from it. A smell devoid of his mother's cooking, the burnt smell dragon's left behind, or even that still faint smell coming from Fred and George's room which had never quite left after the dungbomb incident.

"So I'm not sure how this goes. I guess I could give you the tour or-"

"Your flat smells really clean."

Oliver blinked twice. He scratched his head and let out a small chuckle. "Yeah Lane just cleaned it yesterday."

Charlie didn't need two guesses to know who Lane was. There was no way a home filled with sweaty Quidditch gear smelled this good without regular maid service. "Do you train in here?" He asked.

"Not really. I do some low intensity training up here, but mostly I train in my Quidditch room, where I keep all the equipment."

Charlie had no idea what other equipment Oliver could need, if the brooms and quaffles were up here. He decided not to ask and turned back to the curio case. He picked up a photo and stared. There were four people in the photo. The first was a clean shaven very shapely man with short greying hair. The second was a youthful looking middle aged woman with a long greying ponytail and a knowing expression on her face. The last was another woman, who looked about Charlie's age, and whose features resembled Oliver's. She was holding a large trophy and lightly goading Oliver, who was the last person in the photo.

"That's my mum, dad and sister." Oliver said.

Charlie smiled and waited for the curio case to rotate back to the empty space where he took the photo from, so he could set it down. He looked up at the top of the case. "Why haven't you put anything up there?" He asked.

Oliver chuckled and clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "That is reserved for when we finally make Best in the League. Until then it'll stay empty." He turned to fully look at Charlie, an unbelievably bright twinkle in his eye. "We're gonna make it this year." He said with unwavering conviction. "I can feel it."

Charlie smiled.

Oliver snapped out of his fantasy and pulled Charlie toward the couch. "Sit down." He ordered politely. "I made some oxtail soup for us to eat. Do you like oxtail soup? And do you want something to drink?"

"Yes and no." Charlie replied and attempted to follow Oliver when he started to leave the room.

"No, make yourself comfortable." Oliver said as he made his way toward what Charlie guessed to be the kitchen. "I just need to heat it up."

Charlie could hear scraping and banging sounds coming from the kitchen and he sat back against the couch, trying to ignore the nervous energy that was once again building up inside him.

Oliver returned a second later holding two steaming bowls of soup. "Is this okay?" He asked, holding out the soup.

"It looks great." Charlie responded taking the bowl from Oliver.

Oliver smiled. "No, I meant the date. I know it's kind of weird that we're having it here, but if we went out somewhere I definitely wouldn't make it back to practice on time and coach'll have the head of anyone who dares to be late to practice."

"It's fine." Charlie said quickly. "It's great actually I…" He trailed off, having lost his train of thought. "I think it's great."

"Great." Oliver joked placing the spoon in his mouth. He winked deviously at Charlie and set his soup on the table next to him and then placed an arm around Charlie shoulders.

Charlie's face was burning and he had no idea what to do expect to concentrate on eating his soup and keep his shaking hands from spilling it on the floor. His eyes briefly caught Oliver's so he calmly set the almost finished soup in his lap and tried to think of something to say. "I like your shirt, what is it made out of?" He asked and immediately slapped himself mentally.

It took everything in the world for Oliver not to snort. "Erm polyester I think." He responded, choking back a laugh.

"Oh."

"You don't do this much do you?" Oliver asked.

Charlie turned to completely face Oliver and handed him his bowl of soup. Oliver leaned over and placed it on the desk next to his. "What was your first clue?" He joked.

Oliver pretended to think hard for about two seconds and before speaking. "It was probably when you were telling me about your early growth spurt outside of my apartment."

"I said that out loud?" Charlie asked, humiliated.

"Yes." Oliver said pulling his arm back. "Alright let's try another tactic." He said. "Tell me about your life."

Charlie sighed and rolled his eyes, placing his arm on the back of the couch and relaxing slightly against it. "You know everything about me." He said. "I raise dragons and I have a large, very boisterous family."

"Really?" Oliver asked. "That's everything? No friends? No adventures?"

Charlie squirmed under Oliver's penetrating gaze and finally gave in. "Fine, I have friends back at the Reserve, but Bill's always been my best friend."

"That's cute."

"Shut up." Charlie laughed, punching Oliver lightly in the shoulder. "We've grown apart a bit since I left, but I think we're getting back on track now. I feel like I can talk to him again." He smiled gently. "Hell, just yesterday I almost told him about us."

Charlie could feel the air in the room shift as Oliver froze in front of him. When he finally spoke up his voice was hoarse. "But you didn't right?" He asked.

"No, I was interrupted."

Oliver let out a shaky breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "I…" He began running his fingers through his hair. "God I feel horrible for asking this considering what you just said but could you do me a favor and not tell Bill or anyone else about us right now?" He asked.

"Why? Are you ashamed of me?" Charlie joked.

Oliver smiled. "Of course not. It's just, I'm in the middle of a tournament right now, we have a shot of winning Best in the League for Puddlemore United's for the first time in 15 years and I'm constantly being watched. This would be the absolute worst time for this to come out."

Charlie placed a comforting hand on Oliver's lap. "You know Bill would never tell anyone if I asked him not to, right?"

"Of course he wouldn't." Oliver said quickly. "He's your brother. It's just this tournament is doing my head in and I'm already stressed out of my mind and-"

Charlie smiled at Oliver's blabbering form. Somehow watching Oliver go to pieces was draining the nervous energy right out his brain. It was being replaced by the thought that Oliver looked ridiculously cute when he was flustered. He decided to be bold and cut Oliver off by placing a light kiss on his lips. "Ok." He said when he had pulled back.

"Ok?" Oliver asked stupidly.

"Yeah, ok." Charlie responded, unable to stop smiling at his own impulsiveness and Oliver's adorably confused face. "I won't tell anyone."

"That's it?" Oliver's eyes widened.

"Yes." Charlie laughed.

Oliver let out a very unmanly shriek and kissed Charlie hard, pushing him down until his he was lying on top of the slightly shorter man. "You." He said between kisses. "Are." Kiss "So." Kiss "Amazing." Kiss

When Oliver pulled away Charlie had an unnaturally goofy smile on his face, causing Oliver to lean down for another round of snogging. When he finally pulled back the two were substantially more ruffled than they were when they came in. Oliver gently placed his head on Charlie's chest, listening to Charlie's heart beat slow down beneath him. The stayed like that for several minutes, until Oliver couldn't resist the urge anymore and lifted his head. "Can I ask you a question?" He asked unblinkingly staring into Charlie's brown eyes.

Charlie nodded.

Oliver started out slowly, apparently trying to pick his words carefully. "I know I'm the first guy you've been with…" He began.

"Yes?" Charlie prompted.

"…but I'm not the only person you've ever been with right?" He continued.

"What?" Charlie sat up, nearly knocking his knee into Oliver's ribcage. "Why would you think that?" He asked.

"No reason in particular." Oliver said quickly. "You just seem a bit-"

"What?"

"Nothing." Oliver said unable to stop the snort that escaped his throat.

Charlie glared at Oliver's laughing form. "Is it that hard to believe that I've been with someone besides you?"

Oliver's laughter increased. "I swear I'm not laughing at you." He choked out. "I'm sure you've been with plenty of women."

"Lots of women! Scores even!" Charlie protested.

Oliver's laughter had turned to hysterics.

"Shut it!" Charlie yelled, crossing his arms, and choosing to ignore Oliver even when he fell off the couch onto the floor.

Oliver groaned and pulled himself back onto the couch. "That hurt." He said.

"Serves you right ya knobhead." Charlie responded irritably.

"Come on don't be mad." Oliver said, slipping his arms in between Charlie's crossed ones.

Charlie finally rolled his eyes and relaxed some.

Oliver smiled and pulled Charlie's chest against his own. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. This isn't really a first date conversation." He said.

Charlie stared at his lap for several minutes before answering. "One." He said.

"One?" Oliver repeated. "In thirty years?" He asked.

Charlie's face glowed redder.

"Wow." Oliver said. "Well if it makes you feel better I've only been with two blokes."

Charlie lifted his head and smacked Oliver on the forehead. "Then why are you making me feel guilty?" He asked.

"Well I'm not thirty." Oliver replied. "At my age I can say I've screwed too blokes and still be considered cool."

Charlie's jaw dropped. "You- you screwed them."

Oliver rubbed his neck, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "I'd rather not talk about who did the screwing and what not if that's okay. Though I suppose it's unfair since I know who was the pin and who was the needle in your relationship."

Charlie blushed and buried his head into Oliver's shoulder.

"What?" Oliver asked, feeling his shirt heating up alarmingly fast.

Charlie mumbled something into his shirt.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I don't speak shirt you know."

Charlie pulled back, face bright red. "I may have misunderstood the question." He said.

Oliver looked completely confused. "What did you think I was talking about?"

Charlie looked down unable to face Oliver's questioning gaze. "The truth is, I've only been with one person and it was a pretty short-lived and humiliating experience."

"This sounds good." Oliver said, rubbing his hands together. "Do I know her?"

"Yeah." Charlie said. "It's really not all that interesting." He continued.

But Oliver was having none of that. "Come on you have to tell me know."

"Alright." Charlie said. "Do you know Nymphadora Tonks?" He asked.

Oliver burst out laughing. "Tonks? You dated Tonks?"

"No!" Charlie burst out vehemently. "I mean, not exactly." He continued.

"Alright." Oliver said when he'd gotten himself under control. "Tell me everything."

Charlie couldn't help but wonder how his first date with Oliver had turned into him recounting his first and only love story. "Well, in fifth year one of my friends told me Tonks liked me and I didn't really know what to do with that. So I spent the next month watching her for signs of whether or not she liked me and agonizing over whether or not I liked her back."

Oliver smirked.

Charlie blushed. "Merlin I sound like a teenager."

"You were a teenager." Oliver reminded him.

"Right." Charlie continued. "So finally I decided to do something about it. When we were alone I pulled her toward me and kissed her." He blushed.

"What happened?" Oliver asked, leaning so close that Charlie could count his eyelashes.

"Erm I didn't really enjoy it much." Charlie continued, rubbing his neck. "And apparently she didn't either. She sort of pulled away and calmly told me she used to like me but had given up on me a few weeks ago. She decided Adrian Bones was a much better match for her and that we were better off friends." He looked into Oliver's eyes, waiting for the ridicule.

Oliver eyes, however, held no amusement. Instead there was only confusion. "Is that it?" He asked.

Charlie nodded.

"That's the whole story."

"Uh yeah." Charlie continued, completely confused.

"That is the story of the one relationship you've had your entire life?"

Charlie turned pink. "It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Oliver continued. "No wonder you're terrified of me!"

Charlie huffed and crossed his arms. "I am not terrified of you."

Oliver didn't seem to hear him. "I just thought you were virginal at this gay thing but you're a virgin at everything!"

Charlie swatted at Oliver. "I am not a "virgin at everything", I made out with you didn't I?" He asked.

Oliver groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "I practically forced myself on you!"

"I'll show you who's forceful." Charlie growled then pushed Oliver back against the couch pinning his arms above his head and pulling him into the most mindblowing kiss he'd ever experienced. Oliver mumbled a muffled protest against his mouth, so Charlie finally let up with a sigh. He drew back so he was sitting on his legs and glared down at Oliver who had a glazed expression on his face.

Oliver shook his head a bit and collapsed against the couch. "Wow." He sighed. "How does someone with so little experience kiss like that?" He asked.

Charlie groaned under the weight of his own humiliation. "I don't know." He said. "But if you don't shut up I may never kiss you again."

Oliver smirked and sat up, leaning against his propped elbows. "Alright, I've got to know, why? Are you waiting for some reason?" He asked. "It doesn't matter I'd just rather know my boundaries now than get slapped later."

Charlie blanched. "Slapped? I'm not a bloody girl Oliver. It's not like I haven't had offers, I just haven't found them all that interesting. But now that I think about it, you're the first bloke to ever proposition me."

Oliver smiled and reached up, running his fingers through Charlie's short hairs. "Charlie Weasley, you have to be the gayest straight bloke I have ever met."

Charlie dropped his head in exasperation. "Yes I'm strange, can we kiss now?" He questioned.

Oliver answered him by leaning up and gently capturing his lips again.

Charlie sighed in relief as he once again felt Oliver's rough lips against his own. The once gentle kiss quickly turned dirty when their tongues met. Oliver moaned beneath him and pushed their groins together. Charlie gasped at the feeling and pushed his body impossibly closer to Oliver's warm body. Oliver's hands were moving up and down his back. He pushed Charlie's shirt up, and felt the warm skin underneath it. Oliver's hands kneaded Charlie's back whenever his tongue performed an especially talented maneuver, and lightly pinched his skin when Charlie pushed their groins together. Charlie's breathing was shallow, and his heart was racing. Oliver cradled his cheek and he nearly burst into tears from the rightness of it all. There was no way he could ever let this end, there was no world outside of kissing Oliver…

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

With some effort Oliver pulled back from Charlie and lifted his wrist to his face, eyeing the Quidditch watch. The original face had disappeared, and instead there was a golden snitch placed where the one should have been. "Shit." He groaned. "I've got to get to practice."

Charlie let out a frustrated moan and moved back, allowing Oliver space to get up.

Oliver cupped his face gently in his hands and let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry." He said. "I've got practice."

Charlie smiled and kissed Oliver gently on the cheek. "Okay."

Oliver stood with some difficulty and shuffled off to his room. The second he left, Charlie collapsed against the couch, feeling exhausted, satisfied, and incredibly frustrated all at once. He stared at the ceiling and gently rubbed his lips.

It took less than five minutes for Oliver to reappear in his Quidditch gear, holding a large bag. He took one look at Charlie sprawled on his couch, and his resolve began to crumble. He shook his head lightly and reached out a hand to Charlie, pulling him up. They walked together over to Oliver's fireplace and Oliver pointed to the pot adjacent to Charlie's elbow. "The floo powder's right here." He whispered, leaning into Charlie again.

Charlie answered by smiling shyly at Oliver, and that was all it took for Oliver to start kissing him again, pushing him against the fireplace, and ravishing his mouth. Charlie responded eagerly, running his hands through Oliver's hair.

Oliver pulled away much too quickly. He pressed his forehead against Charlie's and tried to calm his breathing. "I really have to go." He said sadly.

Charlie smiled and kissed Oliver again. "I'll let you go before you get in trouble." He said, then gently pulled away from Oliver and took a pinch of the Floo powder on the mantle. He stepped into the fireplace, almost collapsing under his jelly legs and yelled "The Burrow" in a surprisingly strong voice. Oliver's face was the last thing he saw before he was met once again by the warm sights and smells of the Weasley living room.

A/N: I apologize for it being as few days late. I wound up having to do several people favors and attend one very awesome show. Anyone who hasn't seen Cirque du Soleil hasn't lived. Anyway I'm going to once again set a deadline, but it is a very tentative deadline. This is mostly because the furor surrounding the birthday I don't want to celebrate may delay the next chapter. So I'm going to try and shoot for 7/31/12.