(A/N: So, my old laptop decided to die on me, and I lost all my save files. It's frustrating, to say the least, losing that much writing material, but forward we go. As always, a quick thank you to those of you still following this story and leaving comments. Specifically, for petites sorcieres for leaving such lovely comments, and calling me out on my own memory XD.)

Charlie murmurs a quick cleaning spell as he leans over Harry, panting softly. "Well, I feel like I'm at liberty for saying that the others won't object to this development," Charlie says, placing a gentle kiss on Harry's temple.

"You're too coherent," Harry mutters with a small chuckle, "And they're too nosy. Gods, I never thought I'd hear the end of it."

"Mhm, glad it wasn't just me they were pestering," Charlie laughs as he places Harry back on solid ground. His legs wobble for a moment, still weak from his orgasm. Harry gives Charlie another glance over, annoyed at how composed the other man looks compared to him. His hair is already lying flat again, despite how many times Harry had run his hands through it. With minimal effort, his clothes are readjusted so they lie exactly how they should. The only evidence of their interaction lies in the man's swollen red lips and a small hickey that is only visible when his shirt shifts just right. "What's with the pout, love?"

Harry blushes at the pet name and the accusation of a pout, moving to pull away from the man but realizing there was truly little room to unless he left the shed. "I'm not pouting," he says, trying awfully hard to ignore the fact that his voice sounded very much like he was doing just that. Charlie merely chuckles, running a hand through his hair and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Of course, my mistake love," he says, but his voice sounds anything but sorry and Harry rolls his eyes.

"You just look so…" Harry pauses, glancing over him again.

"Sexy?" Charlie supplies with a wink. He leans into Harry again, wiggling his eyebrows, and Harry cannot help but laugh.

"Well, there's that, but I was going to say like you didn't just wank off your brother's best mate in a broom shed." They exchange a look after the statement before they break into a small fit of giggles. Harry ceases his laughter abruptly as an idea hits him. "Wait, you look entirely composed. Like, you could walk out of here and they wouldn't be any the wiser. I might take a couple more minutes of… fixing, but you could just waltz on out." Charlie raises an eyebrow at the younger man, not entirely sure where he was going with the statement and honestly a bit frightened. He has had one too many bar conversations that sounded nearly identical.

"What are you on about?" he laughs, trying to hide his insecurities that Harry might just ask him to pretend this never happened. Harry would never do that to him.

"I'm saying, I think it's time to teach the others a lesson for being so nosy," Harry says, and it only takes a second for it to click before he and Charlie are wearing identical grins.

"I'm listening."

"My proposition is that we continue this," Harry pauses to motion between them, "in secret. Just while you're staying here at least. The minute you leave you can take me out on a proper date. "

"Oh, we're going on a date now?" Charlie asks, but there is a teasing grin on his lips.

"Well only if you want to," Harry says, his nerves breaking their way into his words. The older redhead smiles softly, trying to shake away the guilt as he places a light kiss on Harry's lips.

"Of course, darling." He and Harry exchange another light kiss before the former shakes his head, focusing back on their game plan.

"As I was saying, we can let them know when you leave, but while you're here we could keep on as we were. You know, pining," Harry says the word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. His nose scrunches up and Charlie cannot help but agree. He has heard enough of that specific term to last him a lifetime. "See how long it takes before they lay off, if at all."

"Yeah, I'd place money down that they won't lay off, but I'd love to see the looks on their faces after telling them we've actually been… erm," Charlie, pauses, unsure of what term to use. Is dating appropriate if they haven't gone on a date? Harry spots the uncertainty in his eyes and grabs his hand, causing Charlie's eyes to shoot to his.

"I'm more than willing to make this exclusive if you are," Harry says, failing to fight away the light blush threatening to blossom on his cheeks.

"Of course," Charlie says, placing a soft kiss on the lips that are quite rapidly becoming an addiction. "I mean after all I've been absolutely pining after you."

"Ugh, I hate admitting that they're right."

"Yeah, well we're going to be admitting a lot more a lot sooner than we'd like if we don't get out of this shed."

"Good point," Harry says, looking down at himself to make sure he does not look any more suspicious than usual. He shrugs, figuring this is as good as he is going to be presented without a cold shower. His hair is a lost cause at the best of times, especially after a game of Quidditch.

Luckily, fate seems to approve of their plan as no one is left remaining in the garden. The two make it inside, putting on a show of arguing about who won their Quidditch game, the only attention being paid to them were looks of exasperation when the two enter without holding hands. Harry forces himself to bite back a laugh as Mrs. Weasley hands him a set of dishes without a second glance, sending him off to set the table. Charlie sends him a sly wink before walking off to say hello to his niece, barely sparing Bill and Fleur a second glance as he sweeps the one-year-old off the floor.

Harry almost misses the table when he's placing a plate, eyes locked on Charlie's interactions with Victoire. There's a wide grin locked on hip lips as he spins her around, the two of them giggling madly. The way he adores that child makes Harry weak in the knees. Ginny catches the slip and grins smugly as she whispers, "You know if you two wait too long to bloody do something you're going to miss that opportunity." Harry rolls his eyes.

"And if one Ginevra Weasley doesn't learn to mind her business, she might find herself with a rather unpleasant surprise."

"Your threats don't scare me, Potter, I grew up with the twins."

"Touché," Harry says, eyes still narrowed, though no malice lies behind the small grin on his lips.

~.~

Halfway through dinner, and well into a conversation with Hermione about the best places to rent out of in the area Harry feels a hand on his thigh. Charlie had taken the spot beside Harry tonight, not an odd development considering they did not have an exact science to their seating arrangements. Harry did not even blink twice when Charlie sat down, though his heart still hammered lightly against his chest.

The hand had started innocently enough near his knee and Harry merely assumed this was Charlie's way of being affectionate without being visible. Now, however, that hand is trailing a bit too high, and Harry tries to shove it off as subtly as he can. He does not want to risk being caught this early on. The hand returns once more, and Harry fights the urge to shoot Charlie a glare. Luckily, he merely moves his hand to where Harry's is now resting at his side and entangles their fingers loosely. Harry's heart gives a strong thump against his chest at the endearing gesture, even if it was only because he was caught trying to play a game that was way too risky for their current predicament.

"Harry, what do you think?" The mention of his name causes him to jump, his brain reeling back to the conversation, attempting to scrounge any remaining thoughts that aren't about the owner of the hand currently entwined with his own.

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good," he answers, taking the safest route he can see and just agreeing with whatever Hermione had just said. His response is met with a look of exasperation from Hermione and a bout of giggles from Ginny.

"Okay, so that's one vote for me running away with Crookshanks and leaving the whole rental fiasco behind. Ginny, what about you? Since, you know, you've actually been listening to the conversation?" A light flush graces the young man's face, resisting the urge to smash his face into the table. Mrs. Weasley would kill him if he nicked the oak.

"Sorry, just thinking," he responds in a hushed tone, hoping that would steer their conversation away from their current predicament and toward something else. At his own expense, of course.

"Don't need to ask about what, do we?" Ginny smirks, eyes flicking toward her brother. Harry sighs, shaking his head in a show of exasperation. Charlie squeezes his hand, though he appears to be tuned into some conversation with Mr. Weasley about his disaster at work that day. Inside, he's dying because somehow their ridiculous revenge plan is working, with the expense of not being able to openly show affection. He barely catches a whine of disappointment from escaping his throat at the thought.

~.~

One o'clock, I can do this, Harry thinks, remembering the way Charlie's breath felt ghosting over his ear as he leaned in close to murmur a tentative time. Just because everyone should be asleep doesn't mean they will be, as the couple has unfortunately learned. So far, the house sounds quiet, but Harry is more than aware that it's far too early for Mrs. Weasley to be sound asleep. Though, getting caught by Mrs. Weasley is probably the least of their worries. She'd probably play along.

Unlike most nights when he is fighting tooth and nail to go to sleep Harry is instead fidgeting restlessly, blinking any sleep away from his eyes, waiting to hear the tell-tale sounds from the grandfather clock downstairs. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. The sounds are almost enough to madden him until the dinging of the next hour nearly makes him jump out of his sheets. One more to go, and it drags by slower than the rest. Father Time must be playing a cruel joke, Harry thinks, because surely time could not be dragging by like this. Each second feels like an eternity. He attempts to swallow another yawn, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

The telling sound of one o'clock rings through the crooked house and he feels like he could kiss the hands of the clock, restraining himself from all but jumping from his bed. Instead, he creeps toward the door and opens it just enough to slip out. He can hear Ron's snores coming from the floor above. He walks slowly towards the stairs, avoiding making too much noise but also not trying to look like he's attempting to not be caught. The stairs groan under his weight, each one sounding louder than the last in his head. The downstairs is pitch black. Harry can barely make out the shape of Charlie sitting at the table, the moonlight shining off his hair like a makeshift halo. As he nears, Charlie turns around slowly, grinning at him in the darkness.

"Come on," he whispers, standing and grabbing Harry's hand without hesitation. Harry follows behind, closing the door as quietly as he can manage as they step outside. The door finally shuts with a small click and as if waiting for that cue, Charlie turns and sweeps Harry into a gentle kiss. He pulls away nearly as fast as he had swept in, placing a final kiss on Harry's forehead before dragging him behind him once more. "Sorry, but not really. Been waiting all day to do that," Charlie whispers, shooting a quick wink over his shoulder.

"Well, that makes two of us," Harry responds, biting back the wide grin that's quickly threatening to spread over his lips again. The two walk swiftly across the grounds, not wanting to risk any member of the household spotting them through an open window. They only stop when they reach the pond, hidden behind the shadow of a large bush.

"So, today went well," Charlie grins, laying back in the grass. It's another clear night, the stars glistening bright as ever underneath their blanket of darkness. Harry takes a moment to admire the man before him, sprawled carelessly on the ground. He's amazed how the ginger manages to look amazing in any light. The shadows coat him in darkness, the occasional peak of moonlight casting on his skin. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," the red-head teases, resting on his elbows to look up at Harry.

"Just enjoying the view," Harry smiles, laying beside Charlie close enough that their shoulders brush if they shift ever so slightly.

"Well, that makes two of us," Charlie smiles, head propped up on one arm as he gives him an appraising once over. Harry chuckles, shoving his shoulder. Charlie makes a show of falling over onto Harry. "If you wanted me closer you could have just asked."

"You're unbelievable," Harry breathes, rolling his eyes before Charlie pulls him into another kiss. It's soft and slow, with much more emotion behind it than Harry had been expecting. "And insatiable," he jokes as they pull apart a few minutes later, both panting.

"Only when it comes to you my love," Charlie smiles. It's a wide, goofy-looking grin that spreads to Harry's lips like an infection. The Boy Who Lived has spent his whole life scared of what his future holds but looking into the intoxicating blue eyes in front of him, eyes filled with adoration, gives him hope for what their future might hold. It's barely been a day that they've acknowledged their feelings but something about this is different. No one has ever given Harry butterflies, made him weak in the knees from a glance, and yet when he looks at him he feels… content. Like this is what was supposed to happen.

"Well, that makes two of us," Harry mimics Charlie's own words back at him, grinning as he pulls him back into another deep kiss.

(A/N: Here you go! I hope I didn't disappoint. I apologize for the long wait. Also, a quick reminder I am a slut for reviews. You got opinions and I would love to hear them – good or bad – constructive criticism is always welcome.)