Written for Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments - Term 11, Assignment 10: Magical Literature, Task #2: write a story set in St. Mungo's or the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.
Word count: 476
Warning for large age gap.
A Tempting Offer
Kingsley paced the length of the private room in St. Mungo's, fuming. The occupant of the sole hospital bed followed his trajectory with brilliant green eyes.
"Harry," Kingsley growled suddenly, whipping around to face the other man, "why is it that I am always saving your arse?"
"Because you want my arse to stay in one piece?" Harry suggested with a smirk that made Kingsley's thoughts drift towards the inappropriate. "Don't lie, Kings, I've seen you staring."
Kingsley ran a hand over his bald head and groaned. If worrying about Harry wasn't going to kill him, the flirting surely was. "I have never once stared at your arse, Harry, trust me."
"I do trust you," Harry said lightly. "That's why I'm always putting myself into situations where you'll have to save me."
Kingsley sat down heavily. "Harry..."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I'm too young to be flirting with you, yadda yadda yadda."
"So you have been listening to me? Good."
"C'mon, Kings—"
"Kingsley," he corrected swiftly.
"C'mon, Kingsley, give me a little credit, would you?" Harry grinned. He brushed a strand of ink-black hair away from his face without breaking eye contact.
Kingsley folded his arms. "I think you've already given yourself plenty."
"Well, you'll fall for my charm one of these days," Harry said with an air of supreme unconcern.
Kingsley didn't want to tell him that he already had, so he cleared his throat and positioned his chair away from the dark-haired man. "Let's hope that a Healer can examine you soon."
"Oh, right, then you can be on your merry way." The disappointment in Harry's voice made Kingsley glance back over. He looked so small and vulnerable all of a sudden, and Kingsley had to remind himself that despite all Harry had been through, he was still barely a man.
"The Ministry needs me, Harry," he said, keeping his voice gentle.
Harry poked out his bottom lip. "Maybe I need you too," he replied stubbornly.
Kingsley sighed. His next words were difficult to push out. "I can't stay. You know that."
"Can you just sit with me until a Healer comes, then?" Harry pleaded. Kingsley looked into his eyes—those incredible eyes that had featured into so many of his dreams—and felt his resolve weaken.
"I—fine. I can do that," he answered, trying to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach at Harry's delighted smile.
"There's room on my bed if you want to sit somewhere a little comfier," Harry said with a sly wink.
Though the offer was sorely tempting, Kingsley knew that he had to draw the line somewhere. "No, I'm good, thank you." He waved his wand and transformed his hard hospital chair into one with plush cushions. "See? All set."
Harry settled back against his pillows with a scoff. "Way to be a killjoy, Kings."
"Kingsley."
