"So you think it was…normal then? Nothing to worry about?" Bill's voice quavered, obviously unsure.

"Well, yeah. Nobody could help that. It was your body's reaction, not your mind's. No feelings, right?" A different voice. Charlie vaguely recognized it. One of Bill's friends, a Muggleborn perhaps, in Bill class at Hogwarts. Matt or something. Charlie squashed the instinctive protectiveness that rose within him, so automatically he almost didn't notice. There wasn't a time when he couldn't remember being slightly jealous of Bill's friends but he'd hoped he'd got over it. They could be cool, high in his brothers esteem and Bill would see them as equals, share real secrets with them, and ask them for advice. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Charlie knew he'd always just be the little brother. And, in a way, he resented that.

"That's what I thought the first time, but for the past three weeks? Every time?"

A shrug. "I'm sure it's nothing. Really. You just need to get laid, and anyway," There was a pause. "I'm sure if your brother did that to me it would have the same eff-"

"Hey! Don't talk about him like that!" Bill's voice sounded angry, harsh.

There was an apologetic laugh. "What? You gotta admit the kid's hot."

"He's not a kid. You went to school with him."

"Sorry Bill, but it's a fair point. He is attractive. I honestly can't believe someone hasn't already snapped him up." There was a long silence. "Is he seeing anyone?"

There was a growl.

"One of the doctors keeps flirting with him, I think." Bill was muttering, sounding grumpy. Charlie had to strain to catch the words. "I can't explain why, but it really annoys me. I just wanted to hit him for looking at Charlie that way."

Charlie felt himself blush; suddenly wishing that he wasn't stood outside Bill's room, and had just gone straight in. He swallowed. The friend's delayed reassurances sounded through the door.

"I'm sure it's nothing man, just lack of action, you know?"

The redhead knocked, and entered the room, smiling casually as if he'd heard nothing. "Morning!" He said, brightly.

Bill looked startled for a second, then relieved, then for some reason, annoyed.

"Hey. You remember Mark? He was in my class at school." Charlie nodded and shook his hand with a forced grin, then quickly turned away. It was him. Mark, that bastard. The one who'd tried coming onto him in the showers when they were young. The one who had always tried to get Bill to ditch Charlie after his rejection, the one who had spread rumours of the younger Weasley's orientation all over the school. Bill, of course, knew none of this. Charlie hadn't wanted to seem needy, half afraid that if he told, Bill would believe his friend over him.

"Yes, I do. Mum sent you cake, Bill. And a jumper. Blue with little runes around the cuffs." He dropped the bag into the visitors chair. "Oh, and Fleur sent you these; she wants to see you." He indicated to the flowers.

"Well, I don't want to see her." Came the grumpy reply. Charlie glanced at Bill, and he sat up in his bed, arms folded and looking decidedly moody. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd held.

Seeing Mark's face brought back the memory of Bill and him chasing each other round the orchid on Charlie's borrowed broom in there third year. Bill had invited him to join in but Charlie had been upset and sulked in his room, ending up watching both boys swoop and dive far higher than they should. A glance at Mark's face brought the memory back, and quickly he busied himself arranging the flowers Fleur sent in a vase and placing them on the windowsill so they could get the benefit of the light. He could feel Bill's friend's appraising look trace the contour's of his back, and held back an irritable scowl. Let the bastard look if he thought there was something to see.

There was a strange noise like a growl, and a very human yelp from behind him. Charlie spun around to see Mark leaping back from the bed, looking alarmed. For a second, the room froze. The tension was almost audible. Then Mark hissed, touching the blossoming mark on his chin tenderly, then turned, grabbed his jacket from the chair and slammed the door on his way out. Bill was glaring viciously, his breathing fast.

Charlie opened his mouth to ask what the hell had just happened, but turned, cowed by the anger radiating off his brother, to readjust the flowers, and push open the window. He needed a subject change. There was a long silence.

"Mum heard the doctor say you could leave the hospital soon. She wants you back at the Burrow where she can look after you." Charlie sighed, turning back to face his brother. He hadn't wanted to tell Bill this, but he thought his brother could use the distraction.

Bill shook his head. "I want to stay with you." He croaked. There was an almost pleading look in his eyes. They both knew he couldn't stand to be around there mother, to have her fuss and fiddle, whilst constantly nagging about his hair, clothes, choice of music, choice of anything for that matter.

The was another long pause, then Bill said in a very, very quiet voice, almost as a confession, "I don't know what I am anymore."

Charlie sat down by his brother and pulled the man's head to his chest, arms protectively encircling the familiar form. He could hear the pain in his brother's voice, and it killed him. Bill was suffering so much, and all because of that bastard.

"Everything is pissing me off – like Mark just then, and when the doctor pinched your bum this morning, even when that stupid female was flirting without outside the door."

"You noticed Chris do that?"

Bill growled, sitting back suddenly, folding his arms and frowning.

"So it's Chris now, is it?"

There was a long pause. Charlie evenly held his brothers eyes. He'd never heard Bill speak in that tone before. He'd sounded almost jealous. Eventually, Bill broke the gaze and looked down, sighing.

"Sorry, Charlie." He leaned forward and resettled against his brother's chest. Another silence began to stretch out, but Charlie held on to his brother, rubbing soothing patters into his back.

" I…I wanted to tear his head off." Bill whispered. "I hate him for the way he looks at you, the way he finds excuses to touch you-" He broke off, and sat back against his pillows, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them.

"That's not all though, Charlie. I'm far more detestable than that." The older boys shoulders caved. He couldn't meet his brother's eyes, and let out a long breath of air. "What's worse is I wanted to remonstrate you for letting him." Bill sighed, turning his body away, utterly self-loathing. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears spreading along his lashes. "I wanted punish you and claim you for my own, Charlie. To force myself upon you and make you mine." His blue eyes flickered to Charlie's checking his younger brother understood, but quickly flitted away, afraid. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I've begun to think this way, but every time I see you, I just, it's just…"

He trailed off as Charlie pulled their bodies together again, and held his brother as his shoulders shook. He didn't trust himself to speak. When Bill pulled away, he stood back, pulled off his t-shirt, kicked off his shoes and climbed into Bill's bed.

"Wolf morality is not like human morality." He murmured, allowing Bill to turn him over and spoon against his back. "It's different, more intense, works on a different basis…I guess you're a little confused, as the lines of -"

Warm breath tickled his ear, fanning down his neck. Charlie swallowed, blushing. Something hot was pressed like a brand into his back. Bill inhaled deeply, his strong arms wrapping tightly around his brothers chest, and holding tight. It was almost too much.

"Bill…"

A set of teeth ghosted over the curve of his neck, followed by a warm flood of air.

"Bill…" Charlie murmured biting his lip. The arms around his chest adjusted and he felt a smooth forehead press against his skin.

"Charlie…just…just let me hold you…"

"Please?"