A/N: Apologies for my general shiteness and lack of review replies. I'm off to do that right now.
This chapter was written in one 4 minute and 47 second long session, while listening to the song 'Touch Me' from Spring Awakening (if you care about these sorts of things, it's available on youtube. Who knows if it actually adds anything to the reading experience. It certainly added to the writing experience!)
October 2000
It was hot and dark and Harry missed him more than he knew it possible to miss another person. He ached for Charlie in a way he'd never ached before, and the ache was creating bright, vivid, consuming dreams.
Harry dreamed of their first time.
How Charlie had told him just to enjoy it and not worry about how quickly he lasted, and how the tightness felt like it was going to choke him and he came within minutes, embarrassed. Charlie had let Harry hold him, spooning, until Harry got hard again.
"Like this?" Harry had whispered when he noticed Charlie was touching himself.
The second time was slower with twined fingers and low grunts and gasps for breath. He found pleasure, the second time, in the feel of skin under his fingers and lips, the sounds his partner made, the smell and the noise and the feel of it all. Charlie had told him, later, that it didn't hurt the second time, it just felt right.
Harry dreamed of Hogwarts, and breathless stolen orgasms in the shower where the evidence was washed down the drain. And trying to be quiet as he found his release with Ron in the next bed over at Grimmauld Place, or doing it for comfort and having to keep quiet because there was only a thin sheet of tent fabric separating him from Hermione in a field in the Cotswolds somewhere.
Harry dreamed of Charlie taking his virginity. He dreamed of looking up into the other man's eyes, feeling himself being split open and filled, clutching strong arms for reassurance and grounding. Of watching strange, unfamiliar words fall from the lips of his lover.
He dreamed while twisted up in his bedsheets, sweating from the heat, dreamed of feeling another body laying on top of his own, the familiar height and weight and sturdiness, the smell and taste and feel of the man that had become everything to him.
Harry dreamed, and slept on.