A/N: This is for mauralee88, who just gets it.

He woke with his head resting on a warm, muscled chest, an arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders to anchor him in close. Charlie was awake, he was sure of that, soft breaths on his neck calming and arousing him all at once.

Oh. So it did still work. That was good news.

He felt Charlie chuckle softly and kiss his head. Harry yawned and stretched, pulling gently away from the embrace. Charlie didn't try to stop him.

"Good morning," a rough voice murmured.

"'Morning."

To his credit, Charlie didn't ask how Harry was feeling. The answer was pretty obvious, really. They laid in the quiet solitude for a while longer, Harry tracing the thin pencil lines of the tattoo on Charlie's upper arm. It depicted not a lion, or a dragon, or anything else one might associate with the proud Gryffindor dragon keeper, but a sketch- like design of an old, gnarled, twisting tree. His family tree.

"I've missed you being here," Charlie said simply as Harry stretched again, turning himself over to look out at the early morning light. He curved himself around Harry's body, giving him plenty of time to move away if he wanted to and gently nudging uncooperative knees into making the Z shape that would allow him to fit his body next to the other man.

"I missed you, too."

Harry took Charlie's arm, pulling it tighter around his waist and tangling their fingers together. Charlie kissed the warm curve of a pale shoulder and let his arms be all the comfort Harry needed.

Because he wasn't a skinny sixteen year old any more, desperate for the love and attention of a parent or a godparent or a fatherly headmaster. This Harry wore his hair cropped closer to his head in an attempt to portray authority rather than the casual excess of dishevelled youth. His arms were strong, tightly muscled from shoulder to fingertip with dark hairs blooming from his forearms. His chest was broad and although he still had the scrawny, slightly malnourished appearance of his youth, these days he was lean and toned rather than unfed. When standing, Charlie remembered, Harry used to be about an inch taller than him. Not any more though.

"Charlie," Harry whispered.

"Mm?"

"I… uh… I need to use the loo."

"Okay."

Harry felt a deep twist of gratification that Charlie hadn't made a big deal of his confession, or the fact that he couldn't take care of these things without help. His legs worked, was the most frustrating thing. His thigh muscles could contract and release, lifting his legs over and over. But he couldn't put any weight down on the joints or they'd give way. The Healers had already repaired his shin bones four times after his experiments at walking; it was a painful experience that Harry wasn't in a rush to re-live.

Charlie turned away as Harry took care of his call of nature and started up his impressive shower. The bathroom was as beautiful as the rest of the house and boasted a walk in shower unit with water that fell from the ceiling rather than a shower head.

"Do you want to sit down? Or hold on to me?" Charlie asked as he stripped out of his boxers.

"Hold on. Please."

Charlie left for a moment to run back to the bedroom for his wand, then transfigured the towel rail in the shower so that it would support Harry's weight. Just in case.

True to his word, though, Charlie supported Harry with his arms around Harry's waist, letting Harry wrap his arms around his neck with his upper arms braced on his shoulders. It was awkward, but pressed them together under the steaming water.

Harry sighed and trailed his lips along wet skin from shoulder to ear.

"Better?"

"Much."

Their first, tentative kiss since the accident was in the stone tiled room, with steam swirling around them distorting their reality. Charlie's kisses had always put a little thrill in Harry's belly, a thrill that more often than not sank lower to pool as a throbbing heat in his groin.

"Charlie," he said on a low groan, rocking his body forward to brush their growing cocks together.

"I know," was the murmured response. Charlie swept his tongue into Harry's mouth as they both clung to each other for dear life, grinding and thrusting where they could, although water was a harsh lubricant. "Are you... are you sure you want this?"

"Fuck, Charlie." Harry caught his breath. Or might have sobbed. "I'm a man… I'm still a man."

Feeling like a complete and utter dick, Charlie turned Harry so his back was pressed into the cool tile wall of the shower. With renewed passion he deepened their kisses; soft licks to hard, demanding kisses and bites and nips, thin skin on his neck sucked deeply into a wanting mouth to mark and possess and bruise.

With this new support Charlie could grab Harry's arse cheek for extra leverage, pulling them even closer together as hardness sought out hardness, desperate for friction and touch. Harry broke away, panting for breath as he dropped his head back, eyes screwing closed as he lost himself; the sight of his lover crying out his name tipped Charlie over the edge with him.

A new kind of hot wetness bound them together at the waist and they shared slower, but no less intense kisses as they found their scrambled grip on reality again.

It was awkward, and they had to learn new ways of holding on to each other and the transfigured towel rail in order to wash Harry's skin, from his tear crusted face to the matted hair at his ankle, and the sticky mess between. The smell of lime and tea tree was always one he had associated with Charlie and having the green shower gel massaged into his skin peaked his interest, and his arousal, once again.

"You horny this morning, baby?" Charlie teased as he massaged a firm bottom for longer than strictly necessary.

"That was the first time I've come in over three weeks," Harry said, his words broken by grunts and groans. "I wanted you so much."

"I always want you," Charlie said. Ran his nose up the curve of Harry's squeaky clean underarm.

"I know. Me too."