(A/N: Okay so there is a bit of erm… explicit content at the end of this chapter so just… be wary. If that's not your thing I'd click off. I did rate it as M but just… it comes into play in this chapter.)

"Do you have a red three?"

"No."

"You're supposed to say 'go fish'," Harry chuckles, glancing at the look of disgruntled bemusement that has overtaken Charlie's features.

"Fine, Go Fish. I don't understand this muggle game. Why is it go fish? Do these cards look like fish to you?" For emphasis, Charlie shoves the back of his cards in Harry's face. Harry can't help but laugh, shaking his head at the older man.

"No, but the draw pile is supposed to be a pond. Listen, you're the one that wanted to learn muggle card games and you said that Kings in the Corner seemed too difficult so-"

"Well yeah but that was before I knew how boring muggles are, back when I still had a whole life shining ahead of me. Now we're here, an hour later, and I have aged eighty years. I mean is this honestly what they do for fun?"

"Sort of. Go Fish is generally seen as more of a children's game but I figured it was best to switch you to the basics after the first fiasco."

"Well I'm bored," he huffs, falling back onto the couch.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Harry asks, cocking an eyebrow in Charlie's direction. When Charlie glances over at him, one eyebrow rose playfully as if challenging him and his lips drawn up into a smirk. He knows exactly what he wants to suggest they do but he's pretty sure he'd get kicked in the shin for suggesting that.

"You wanna go play some one on one Quidditch?" Charlie asks, suggesting the first activity that comes to his mind. "Mum and them are done with the garden for now so we shouldn't have to worry about our 'Quaffle' getting nicked by a gnome," Charlie jokes, Harry laughing in turn.

"Sure, been a minute since I've played," Harry grins, getting up off the couch. He smacks Charlie on the knee as he stands. "Come on you lazy bum, it's time for me to make you regret suggesting Quidditch."

"Oh is that so Potter? Prepare to eat your words," Charlie laughs as he stands, picking up his pace until he's walking right by Harry's side. "Race you," Charlie whispers before taking off, Harry immediately on his heels.

"Hey! No fair," Harry laughs as they both fight to open the door. They stumble out, Harry pulling the door shut behind him before taking off after Charlie again. Charlie beats Harry to the shed by a whole second. He's barely stopped when Harry smacks into him with his full body weight, both males toppling to the ground.

"The hell mate," Charlie laughs as he tries to pick himself up off the ground, his body half sprawled over Harry.

"I was running too fast and couldn't stop," Harry laughs, moving to sit up. As his body moves forward Charlie turns and just like that their lips are mere inches away from one another's. Nobody moves or says a word, not for a moment, as they both breath the same air. The same air that in mere seconds seems to have become so illogically dense, both of their breaths are coming out more like pants. Charlie debates it harshly in his mind, so hard to deny himself the pleasure when his lips are so damn close.

A snap interrupts their thoughts and the two turn to see Ron and Hermione entering the grounds, their bickering ceasing when they set eyes on the precarious situation they had just deferred upon. "Um, we're not interrupting are we?" Ron asks, already knowing the answer and the lecture he was going to be receiving from both Hermione and Ginny later for suggesting that they cut the tour short and return home.

"We were just um… just about to play some Quidditch. Wanna join?" Charlie asks, looking up at Ron and refusing to lock eyes with Harry again despite the fact that their chests were still close enough to feel the other's warmth.

"Funny, I thought Quidditch required brooms," Ron snorts at his own joke before Hermione grabs him by the arm and drags him inside behind her.

"That boy has got a screw loose," Charlie mutters before standing. He extends a hand out to Harry which is gratefully accepted. Without too much strain the younger man is pulled up to his side. The tension is strong and Harry has to break eye contact, coughing into his arm in an attempt to break the tension. "So, Quidditch?"

The Weasleys' version of Quidditch mostly just involves tossing apples back and forth, attempting to get them past a predetermined marker before someone else nearly knocked you off of your broom. They didn't want to use any actual Quidditch balls and risk one getting lost in the nearby muggle village. That would lead to too many questions about the quirky family that lives on the hill. Mr. Weasley had already had enough trouble at work to last him a lifetime.

Before they even reach playing height the two men are showing off, flying circles around one another on the old Cleansweeps. They were outdated, surely, but when they were only ridden for fun and games there was little point in updating to the newest model. Still, that doesn't mean they weren't well maintained.

"Here, Charlie, you start off. Might as well give you the advantage of starting seeing as you're the senior player here." There's a smirk on Harry's lips as he tosses an apple at Charlie, who simply laughs at the jab.

"I might be older, Harry, but that does not mean I can't keep up." Harry tries, with very little success, not to think of the double meaning entangled in that sentence. Starting the game at the disadvantage, as well as trying to wipe the fog of perverse thoughts pervading his mind, Harry fails to block Charlie's first shot.

The game starts out playfully competitive at first, Charlie smug with his early victory, but it isn't long before any competitive edge is lost. The two men fly around, bumping each other's brooms and the game turns into a game of knock-off Quidditch quickly turns into keep-away with an apple. The two men land on the ground almost 45 minutes later, panting.

"Sorry about your luck there mate, maybe next time."

"Oh, is this you assuming you won there?"

"Of course I did!"

"And how is that?"

"Oh, I really didn't think I'd have to explain the rules of Quidditch to you, Harry, of all people."

"Oh, really? That's funny, didn't realize tickling was in the rules."

"Oh shut it," Charlie laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry's as they make their way back toward the shed.

"I'm just saying, pretty sure flirting with the opposition is a foul." Harry regretted the words as soon as he said them, but he held his own as he smirked at Charlie.

"Oh, so now I was flirting, was I?" Charlie asks, raising an eyebrow as he opens the door to the shed. Both he and Harry step inside, resting the brooms in their respective spots.

"Not sure what else you'd call it. Either way, definitely not a clean play."

"Oh, is that right? And which one of us was Quidditch captain?" Charlie had placed his hands on the workbench behind Harry, successfully locking him into place. Suddenly, the air of confidence Harry had was gone. He sputters at having the man so close again. Though, if he was reading the signs right, and if what everyone else was saying was true, then there was a highly likely possibility that Charlie was flirting. If not, this was going to make for an immensely uncomfortable remainder of the week.

The shed door opens suddenly and Ginny steps inside before her eyes open wide. Without another word she steps back out, closing the door behind her. "They have the worst possible timing," Charlie mutters, releasing his hands from the table and taking a step back. Without feeling so trapped Harry gains a tad bit of confidence back.

"Charlie, wait," Harry says, grabbing the man's arm as he goes to leave the shed. "Can I talk to you about something real quick?" The feeling of nervousness fades from Charlie's being as he turns to face Harry, now looking more concerned than anything.

"Of course, Harry," Charlie says the words as though it should have been an obvious answer.

"Right, okay, so um… you see it's… it's just that I… well, um… oh, fuck it," Harry huffs, grabbing Charlie by the collar of his shirt and pulling him so that their lips crash together in the middle. They both groan lightly at the impact but neither pull away. Harry could almost praise the gods when Charlie kisses him back, moving them so Harry is pushed against the door. The kiss is slow and exploring despite the urgency early on. A small whine escapes Harry's lips as Charlie pulls away, smiling down at the man.

"Well, I've gotta say, that's probably the best conversation I've ever had," Charlie grins and Harry chuckles, resting his back against the door.

"To be fair, I've wanted to tell you the past couple days it's just… I wasn't sure if you really saw me like that." Harry's voice falls quiet at the end and Charlie sighs, dropping his head on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm an idiot."

"No, Charlie you-"

"Called you family. I'm sorry. It was dumb. I was just hurt because Ginny told me to stay inside when she went out to check on you and I just… I dunno I thought that you didn't trust me enough to talk to me so I lashed out. In some way, I thought by calling you that I was protecting myself but-" Charlie stops as Harry's lips meet his again in a gentle peck.

"It's okay, Charlie. We were both dumb." They grin at one another.

"Complete fools," Charlie responds with a laugh before kissing Harry again, this time hooking his arms under Harry's legs and hoisting him up. Harry wraps his legs around Charlie's waist, their kiss becoming hungrier and more desperate by the second. Charlie grinds his hips into Harry's and the smaller boy moans loudly in surprise, only some of the noise swallowed by Charlie's lips.

"Unless you want one of my family members making another surprise appearance I suggest you quiet yourself a bit," Charlie chuckles, kissing and sucking along Harry's jawline.

"Me? If you don't calm yourself I'm not going to be- ohmyfuck," Harry whimpers, biting his lips as Charlie rolls their hips together once more, "Not gonna- fucking hell Charlie." All words seem lost as Charlie snakes a hand up Harry's shirt, pinching one of his nipples.

"You know you talk an awful lot."

"Charlie it's just- fuck- it's just- ohmygod- can you calm down for one second?" Charlie huffs, a pout on his lips as he halts his movements. "Thank you. Now, of all the times everyone has walked in on us just talking and you think it's a good idea to have a quick go in the shed?"

"Hence the term quick, Harry. Besides, I don't think either of us are walking out of here like this," Charlie rolls his hips against Harry's and Harry splutters out nonsense.

"Dry humping hasn't been quick for me since I was a teenager, Charlie," Harry says and Charlie smirks.

"That's fair, and I don't really want my first time fucking you to be in the shed," Charlie says the statement so calmly that Harry chokes on his next breath. "But we really do got to sort this. I imagine a wank should be quick enough."

"You're oddly calm about this," Harry chuckles as Charlie works on their belts.

"You know, I'm having trouble distinguishing if I'm the one getting you off or if it's the sound of your own voice." Before Harry can respond Charlie crashes their lips together once more.

(A/N: I just wanted to drop a specific thank you to petites sorcieres for their lovely comment. I love it when you guys comment about specific things or ideas that you enjoyed and your comment really helped me fight through this last chapter. Thank you.)