Chapter Text
The house was a portal. The music loud enough to blast through his bones. The house was a sizable two story outside of London. Flowery wallpaper everywhere, but no one without a sharp eye could tell. The walls were spray painted and covered in posters at random. Mostly brightly colored text patterned album cover art and a band named after a bug he swore he saw in his parent’s collection. Lamps that had glowing liquid blobs sat in every corner, giving the party a dim rainbow effect. Every instrument ever heard of shelved or mounted on the wall, along with the Wagtail Family crest favored by the house’s graffiti artist. Bottles were littering the tables and green counters and Myron and his fiancé had something smoking between their lips. Bourbon and botanicals heavy in the air.
Charlie swallowed. This was the kind of party his parents were always warning him about. These were the kind of things he wasn’t supposed to be near let alone waft over his skin. Why was he here if this was the kind of stuff they were doing?
“Come on, the office is this way,” Duke smiled at him warmly and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. The calluses on his soft fingers brushing against his wind-worn palms. A pleasant warmth spread from his hand to his chest to his cheeks.
Oh. Yeah. That was why.
The office was empty. With the door shut behind them the tapestries and soundproofing muffled much of the party in the living area. A raging hum now. Charlie could hear himself think, but all that was on his mind was how alone they were together.
It hadn’t been just the two of them since their kiss. Even then interruption had been a constant. He itched for some proper time with him. First, to talk, he had a lot to tell Duke if they wanted to continue as they were. The other reasons didn’t involve much talking.
“So is this someplace Myron and Darren inherited?”
“Nah, the Wagtails aren’t much for muggle houses. It’s Darren’s house, but we’ve been crashing here ever since the main three of us became friends. Spent at least a week every summer here. It’s our own little paradise.” He chuckled looking around as if it was the first time he was seeing the room “though, it’s mostly him. It’s still his house after all.”
“I’d imagine you’ve left your mark. You always do,” Charlie said, letting himself sink into the plush couch. He took another small sip of his red cup as he looked around. “I’m a little afraid to ask what’s yours in here though. I can’t see half the carpet.”
Duke laughed, plopping himself down next to him and making the whole cushion jiggle with the new weight. The motion made the cushion puff with scent. It smelled of cigarettes and that one Hufflepuff-only greenhouse.
“He’s not one for minimalism,” he grinned “and I promise we’re cleaner when we’re not partying. It’s a celebration, worries are for the morning.”
Charlie grinned and let the sentiment settle in. Duke and his band certainly lived by the phrase. Duke had been braver than him all weekend, and the woes of his life seemed to wash right off of him. His eyes were bright and gleeful, sparkling on and off stage with pure life. If Charlie could do that, he’d probably wouldn’t be fighting with Tonks. If he could learn to let go maybe he could enjoy his last year instead of counting down to the day it ended. Maybe if he lived like that he could let some of his sadness and anger go. About Tonks, about his family, about his treatment at school, about all of it. Maybe if he stayed here he’d absorb some of that, and he’d be happier.
“I just wish that could be true for me.”
“The only way it can be is to start,” Duke smiled. “My mum told me a version of that phrase before I went to school, and again before each show they could go to. Believe it or not, I have horrible anxiety, and it was far worse back then.”
“You? But you’re so, well, you!” Charlie gapped in shock. Here he was thinking Duke had been the pinnacle of relaxation. “You hide it so well.”
“It’s not hiding so much as coping. I got help, they took me to a therapist my grandparents recommended. Been taking medication for years. But Myron and Darren helped too, giving me calmness when I needed it. It never went away. Just sort of faked it until I learned to manage it properly.”
The person in front of him seemed to pop out in his vision more than ever. The little signs of nerves that Charlie had ignored in favor of the idea of Duke rather than what he actually was. The small bobbing of his adams apple, the twitch in his fingertips, the swaying of his foot. The many bracelets and cuffs with calming stone weaved in. He had shared something personal despite everything. Charlie couldn’t even stop staring enough to talk let alone tell him the important secrets he carried.
“Thank you for telling me that. That must have been difficult.”
“It was, it is, but it’s not so hard with people I care about being around. After a while, I sort of realized I was too busy worrying about what people thought to actually do any living. I’m not here for a long time, but I want it to be a good time.” Duke hummed, letting himself sink into the bright red fabric of the rounded couch. “I at least want you and me to have a nice time at this party if I can help it. You looked like you needed it.”
“I did. You have no idea the week I had.”
Charlie let himself sink into the plush of the couch. He let his eyes drift up to Duke. He let his legs uncross as he sat, a habit still left over from those first two years of his life when his mother thought he might still pick being a girl. The family said they were flexible and he could make his own decision, but she had trained him to be a daughter just in case.
The motion was unfamiliar. Even though he saw people that looked like him sit like this all the time. It felt charged with an energy he didn’t know what to do with. Dirty in a way he didn’t expect to enjoy. He hadn’t let himself feel it until this weekend, because before this weekend no one had known his preferences for who he wanted to feel this with. And here was Duke, putting what Charlie kept quiet on a stage and with streamers bursting. This wasn’t the stage, and it showed for Duke. This house made him jump from the pedestal and calm in a way he never was with his instrument in hand. His movements were slow and purposeful, taking his time because he knew where he had all of it. That was the power of the Weird Sisters’ house. The Burrow made everything warm and chaotic, here everything was a time capsule. Nothing you did here required hurry, nothing exited the haze of cigarette smoke and foggy windows. Here nothing had consequences.
“I think I appreciate that philosophy, and this house.”
“And I’m sure you appreciate the decor,” Duke laughed nodding toward the candles made with expensive beer bottles surrounded by joints and all circulating a phallic-shaped candle.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” Charlie laughed, shaking his head and meeting Duke’s face undeniably close. Hot breath met his as he gazed down at him. Duke watched him quietly. Glancing up at him and Charlie smirked a little. He made Kirkey Duke bite his lip and blush beet red. And he was still dressed.
He let out a haze of a whisper. “What else did you notice?”
“I—“ Charlie shuddered out. Duke’s forehead pressed against his. He breathed out a sigh. “Fuck.”
Duke came over slowly, sweetness spreading over his face. He leaned down, ghosting his lips to Charlie’s before kissing him. Slow, methodical, enough time for Charlie to tell him to take a hike if he changed his mind. Charlie appreciated the gesture, but he wasn’t going in that direction.
This house really did take the consequences out of everyone’s equations.
The heat on his cheeks shivered down his chest. Duke’s lips burned with the sweet fizzy drink and alcohol mixture, mixing with Charlie’s own. He let his eyes flutter closed with Duke’s hands brushing against his cheeks. Duke turned his jaw slowly with his hands as they deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue brush against his lips. Charlie opened slowly, not sure what good it would do for the kiss. He mimicked Duke best he could with the open and close motion he was doing with his mouth. Little breaths in between and trying to figure out what to do with his hands. Duke’s had moved his from his jaw, one tangled up in his hair and made him shudder while the other moved down. From his neck, down to playing with the fabric of his blazer, down his spine, and settling on his hip to pull him closer. Charlie could sense Duke’s own body coming closer as he pulled him in. He could hear the rustling of the couch as he shifted. Charlie kept his eyes shut tight. He was still trying to think of where to place his own hands other than snaked around Duke’s neck. He didn’t need visual confirmation of how stiff and stupid he looked in comparison.
Duke’s hand slithered from his hip to his thigh, resting onto his knee with soothing circles. He slowly started to guild the leg out.
He broke the kiss and stood quickly. He groaned and his eyes watered as he banged his knee on the coffee table. “I, um.”
Duke sat blinking, shifting back to his original seat. “Sorry, was I reading all of this wrong?”
“No, no I just—” Charlie cleared his throat. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve barely kissed anyone let alone...this.”
Duke’s mouth flew open “never, ever? But you’re, well, you’re you?!”
“And?”
“And?! You’re gorgeous? Are all the boys at Hogwarts blind?”
Charlie blinked, eyes getting wet at the compliment.
“I just don’t think any of them are gay and willing to put up with what I’ve got.”
“And they’ve said that?”
“I’ve been given enough evidence not to let anyone try.”
Duke’s shoulders tensed. His eyes darkened, narrowing in anger. Not at Charlie but at his lot in life. His own brown eyes shot to the ground. He felt too watched for what they were doing a moment ago. “So what have you got?”
“An annoyingly obsessive personality I guess.”
“There’s something else.”
Charlie shifted uncomfortably. He hated when people saw right through his woven net of avoidance and half truths. People didn’t question someone they were too busy ignoring.
“There’s more than just people being assholes. You have the same face as when Darren was tailoring your outfit.” Duke hadn’t ignored Charlie since he’d laid eyes on him. It was new, and not unpleasant, but it was unfamiliar. He used to not know the difference between the three “Come on, you’ll probably feel better if you just spit it out. From the looks of it, you haven’t told a soul.”
His hands grew clammy. He tried wrapping his hands around himself and willing his bottom lip to stop quivering. There was no point in lying or going around it. And to Charlie’s great surprise, he didn’t want to. Duke had shared so much with him in a short amount of time. Charlie wanted to be like that, trusting and ready to say what was on his mind.
“I’ve told a few, my family knew when I was born. It...was sort of obvious, granted.”
He swallowed, glancing at the ceiling. He told himself ripping off the bandage quickly would be better. If he could do it right it would be too quick for Duke to be grossed out. If Duke had the same feeling pooling in his stomach as he did, maybe it wouldn’t matter.
“I’m intersex, I have both,” Charlie motioned to his tousers “down there. The girl and boy bits.”
Duke just smirked, leaning back and letting his shoulders slump again. “Luckily, I know how to handle both.”
Charlie looked at Duke so fast his neck cracked. Eyes wide and mouth gaping at this boy he didn’t even know well. He was reacting so calmly. The outright acceptance like it was nothing unusual. Like he was nothing unusual.
“Telling me that took guts, so thanks. Complicated bits or not,” Duke assured, wiping the tears that escaped his cheeks. “You look beautiful, Charlie Weasley. Nothing is going to convince me otherwise.”
He had to get on tip-toes to do it, but he kissed Kirley Duke. He kissed him fast and hard. Their embrace warm and comfortable, like a childhood blanket on a cold and rainy night. Their lips in sync like a key and lock. Familiar in a way third kisses shouldn’t be, but Charlie didn’t want shoulds and shouldn’ts. He just wanted him.
He felt himself let go. His face un-scrunching, the tension in his neck and shoulders dissipating, his whole body leaning towards Duke. The heat back with a vengeance, and he let it go where it desired. His hands roamed to Duke’s hair, petting the short hairs in circles. He could feel sections where the tips were still burnt and crispy. It made him smile into his lips, Duke chuckling back. The sound sent vibrations down his throat and Charlie could swear he could feel it down to his toes.
Duke kept his hands on Charlie’s hips, using his belt loops to pull him closer. A moan coming up Charlie’s from his throat when Duke’s legs pressed against his middle.
He smirked against Charlie’s lips, “fuck, what a noise.”
“Do—do you have a bedroom in this house?” Charlie stammered out, legs starting to shake.
“I have one upstairs,” he hummed, eyebrows raising along with his grin.
“Good, because Duke, I’m not losing my virginity on your manager’s weird office couch.”
Duke silently laughed as he nodded. He looked too stunned to move, but Charlie didn’t see the point in beating around the bush. He knew what he wanted, and he finally found someone he wasn’t afraid to say it to. He led Charlie upstairs, the two vearing through the maze of household items and people. Everything blurred in a haze of smoky colors, red cups, and rock music.
===
Charlie heard a rustling in the sheets, a shifting bringing on a chill in between the warm covers and his back. He didn’t want to move, and a little agitated that the world decided to do it anyway. A familiar squawk and Charlie shot up from his spot in the covers.
“Duke don’t, that’s my family’s owl!” He was too late. The red envelope formed and Molly Weasley boomed through his entire soul.
“Charles Fabian Weasley, do you have any idea how much you worried me?! Your brothers have no idea where you are, you could have been dead in a ditch for all we knew!”
Easter break. The train which he was very much not on. His family.
“I had to find out you went off with some band from Nymphadora! You come straight home right now or I’ll—”
Duke scrambled for his wand and set the letter ablaze, cutting off any further screaming from his mother. She hadn’t finished her threat, but Charlie got the gist all the same: he was dead.
“Jesus,” Duke grunted, kicking the ashes of the letter towards his trash can. “One hell of a wake up call.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, burying his head in his hands. His body colder than ever with their bubble of body heat popped and clothes still shed on the floor. “I completely forgot to tell anyone I wasn’t going to be on the train.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Duke snorted “for being so interesting.”
“But I ruined our morning after.”
“You didn’t send the howler. Does your mother know she can send letters like a regular person?”
“She knows,” he groaned. He shook with embarrassment. Here he was, a legal adult for two years now, still receiving howlers. The worst way to wake up he could imagine.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Duke said, crawling back into bed with a comforting hand on his back. “We have a whole week for morning afters, right?”
“You’ll let me stay? After that?”
“She’s already mad at you,” Duke grinned “might as well say you're safe and stay put. How much worse could she be if you don’t see her?”
“You have a death wish, you know that?” Charlie let out a giggle that turned into full laughter. Duke clutching at his side letting his own barks of joy, snorting every so often which just made Charlie laugh more.
“Come on, let’s get you breakfast.” Duke managed to squeeze through all the heavy breaths and wheezing. Strutting to the wardrobe and flinging Charlie a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. By the look of it, both were going to be too big for him, but better they hung low than not have any clothing at all.
===
The house in broad daylight looked like another world than what he had witnessed. The flowery wallpaper stood out more against the sprayed colors, the regular lamps were on helping the sunlight and lava lamps basting the place in light, and everything sat still in the dust and the bird calls. Most notably, Charlie could see the trash and carnage he attributed to before Duke led them into the office. Beer pong knocked over and growing stale, bottles were attracting flies, ashes and the butts of joints sprayed the carpets, all encased with pizza boxes and stale smoke. They had the windows opened and candles lit, but it just made the smoke waft to new places and swirl with the ocean palm breeze and sweater weather. Duke didn’t seem fazed, tip toeing in between the messes as they came down the staircase and into the open first floor. The band sat at the dining table either nursing fizzy drinks or making coffee. But they weren’t the only people still here.
The two women he saw at the party last night sat around the kitchen island. One blonde and tall with a red pajama lingerie-style slip, rubbing her head with her hands. The other short, with a mini afro dyed blue, and in a full dark purple onesie, coming in and out of the larder with various carbs.
“Don’t worry, Darby is getting the hangover potion,” the blonde woman said, finally lifting her head from her hands to squint at him.
“Couldn’t handle your drink could we Caroline?” the other women, presumably Darby, asked sauntering in from the larder holding up two bottles of potion and three loaves of bread.
“Shut up and give me it so I can function,” she whined, holding her manicured hand out. “And keep your voice down.”
Darby grinned and Charlie covered his ears knowing what was coming. He was trained by the twins for smiles like those. “Oh I’m sorry, your hangover making everything loud, is it?! What a shaaaaaame!”
Caroline groaned and clutched her head, swatting at Darby with a shake of her head. Both women poured their portion of the potion before switching glasses and guzzling the liquid down. This was a practiced ritual.
“Here kid,” Caroline said, offering him a smaller dose.
“Thank you, but I don’t need it,” she raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t drink much last night.”
“Wasn’t down here long enough, eh?” Darby snickered, wiggling her eyebrow at him.
“No,” he blushed, looking down and fidgeting with his hands.
“Hey, no shame in this circle,” Caroline said putting a hand on his shoulder “if you hadn't noticed, we stayed over too.”
“Oh, right,” Charlie relaxed but now he felt a little stupid. He was so used to the dorms with sex being this thing to sneak around with. Something for overzealous and uncareful students to do in abandoned classrooms or broom closets. Something to be hidden away from anyone who wasn’t your immediate and mature friends, or risks everyone knowing and judging you for it. A secret well known to many and discussed by none. Now he was in this odd circle where the fact was known and even joked about. It was out in the open and aired out every morning for these women. Charlie felt oddly comforted about them welcoming into this odd ‘Weird Sister’s Lovers’ group so soon when he had no idea of its existence a minute ago.
“We have some cream stored upstairs for those by the way,” Caroline said tapping her neck. Charlie cocked his head and rubbed his own wondering what she meant. He couldn’t feel anything on it.
“Aww, he has no idea,” Darby cooed “don’t worry, we’re experts at this point. You’re in good hands.”
“Oh, was it your first time? Do you need some pain reliever?”
“I—yes but I don't—I mean it hurts maybe I—”
“Babe,” Darren called, finally coming out from behind his newspaper. “Leave him alone, don’t scare the kid away.”
Caroline rolled her eyes, scoffing as she picked up a fancy silver walking stick that had been leaning on the counter next to her and limped over to the dining table. She sat on Darren’s lap, landing harshly but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I was just being helpful. You’re no fun in the morning.”
“I’m plenty of fun in the morning,” he smirked, making the rest of the band either pretend to gag or cover their ears. Myron most of all. Orsino and Tremlett even stopped cuddling for emphasis. The older couple just responded with a middle finger.
===
“I can’t think of the last time we had a spell made breakfast.” Myron sucked in the air around the stove, eyes twinkling at his wandwork. Charlie didn’t know what they were all gawking at. Breakfast and helping his mother cook had been his chore since he could remember, spells or no.
“My mum taught me right when I got past my grandfather’s wand. They’re pretty standard.”
“We wouldn’t know what was standard. Our family’s house elf couldn’t share their techniques even if they wanted to. It’s just not compatible.”
Charlie’s eyes got wide at Darren’s words. In all the haze of them being part of the punk band and the party, he’d forgotten the Wagtails shared more of a social circle with his bullies than him. They were neither here nor there for political issues, which Charlie thought said more than an opinion ever did.
He noticed Myron tying his long hair in a ponytail as he ate, hair tie clear and disappearing with ease. Charlie was struck at how utterly upper-middle-class he looked now that he and his brother’s house was out of his stage costumes and dark lights. That was the thing with families like the Wagtails, and even muggle middle class families like the Thrustons and the McCormacks. They had roughly the same stuff Charlie grew up with, only given sooner and so frequently they didn’t have to think about who was giving and who was getting. All the unsightly parts of running a household tucked away and given adamant space live away from guests. Trash cans in a drawer, cleaning supplies in its own closet, clothes hung up neat with matching hangers. Even their means of a simple hairstyle were turned invisible. His chest puffed, getting a defense ready he wasn’t sure he even needed. It felt needed, but he didn’t know for what.
“You two are embarrassing,” Duke said shaking his head as he took a plate of egg casserole and bacon for himself.
“Like you ever tried to do it.”
“I did try, I almost burnt everything but I did try,” Duke said blushing and looking down at his plate. “This looks amazing though.”
“Defection,” Myron sing songed making his way to the table to join everyone else. Its residence being too occupied with eating to even talk.
“Only child, so I guess Mum spoiled me a bit,” Duke laughed nervously. “I sprung the move on them, so there wasn’t any of that ‘prepare you for uni’ list they made.”
“They wanted you to go to muggle university?” Charlie piped up, dishing out the last and biggest portion for his own plate.
“Yep,” Duke nodded, smiling proudly. “They're both halfbloods, so there was always this weird mix in the house. It’s hard to let go of those expectations of going to school, then uni, then getting a job. Even after being part of the wizarding world for so long. Even with an adopted pureblood child.”
Charlie almost choked. He knew Duke was adopted from Molly’s friend circle being loud about their whispers, but he had no idea Duke himself knew. Even more surprising was him talking about it so openly.
“Yeah I know, it’s unexpected. You purebloods are always so weird about adoption I swear.”
“No, no it’s not that, honest,” he coughed. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Yeah, a bit of the point,” Duke chuckled.
“When did they tell you?”
“They didn’t really,” Duke shifted, sitting on the counter so he could place his plate on his lap. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. I look nothing like them, and then I saw some ministry couple in the paper and it just came together.”
“Wow,” Charlie breathed, “I can’t believe you knew all this time.” Duke raised his eyebrows in surprise, confusion painting his posture. “Oh, my mother Molly is old friends with Kathleen. They were roommates before she married. Right before the war and everything.”
The implied “everything” being Duke, but that fact sat too sour on his tongue. He had heard the two women’s less than subtle arguments over tea, so he knew a moderate amount of the story. None of it felt right to say right now, not with both of them grown up and Duke having his own independent life. He doubted it would add anything of value at this point.
“Yeah, I know about Kathleen and all that. I just didn’t care,” Duke shrugged “I had my parents, my family, didn’t see the point of complicating things when I was happy with what I had.”
Charlie smiled, joining next to him on the counter. “I’m glad you were happy.”
“I was,” he smirked. “Besides, if she’s anything like that dear Molly that sent that howler I think I dodged a bullet.”
“She’s not that bad when she’s not in bear mode,” Charlie assured. “You knew you were Katie Bell’s brother, that’s wild.”
“We came out of the same hole,” Duke said, holding up a hand with a roll of his eyes. Now he looked ready to defend. “That hardly constitutes family. Let’s not stretch it.”
Charlie snorted into his coffee, the hot liquid almost going up his nose. He spent the next half hour eating and snickering, feeling closer to Duke by every nudge of their forks.
===
Bill,
Tell Mum that I’m with someone and that I’m fine . I’m sorry I forgot about the train, and for worrying you all. I got . . . occupied.
I’m spending Break at the house, and no, I’m not spending Easter with someone who sends Howlers to an 18-year-old at 7 in the morning! I’ll update you fully when I get back to the castle.
Charlie.
It wasn’t eloquent or very long, but Bill needed neither at this point. He was sure his brother had some idea of what he was doing. He was a little sad he was going to miss seeing Bill. But he had visited the Burrow at Christmas and to see him off for school in September. They had been exchanging letters so much the Hogwarts owls all resented him for the trips to somewhere so hot and sandy. He could make up for it with a visit to him soon, and it would be just the two of them, so it would be even better.
He braced himself for a letter back. For Duke’s pitch black owl to come swooping in with a dozen more howlers and a strongly worded regular letter just for kicks. But nothing happened. The owl came back an hour later with nothing but a hunger for treats and a snippy attitude. The silence was deafening, conveying Molly’s anger more than yelling ever did. She was never quiet, even in her sleep her presence demanded noise fill their spaces. Charlie was sure a storm was coming for him, but he could only hope the week and possibly the rest of the semester cooled the storm down so it didn’t vaporize him on sight.
He’s made his decision and he wasn’t going to back down. Not for guilt, not for Molly Weasley, not for anything.
Bill sent little letters through the week, usually vague updates on the Burrow’s day and heavy hints on their mother’s emotional state. He scribbled little answers in between jam sessions and tea with Darby and Caroline. It wasn’t the most important letter he received. Wednesday an all too familiar owl tapped on the sliding glass door, a regal-looking barn owl with pink painted talons: Tonk’s owl.
Short and brutally sweet, just like its writer. Nothing flowery to crowd the point.
Char,
Talked to Mum and Dad, they rang me a new one. Sorry for being an oblivious bitch.
Can we talk when we get to the castle? Usual spot?
I miss you.
Tonks.
He cried when he read the last line. Despite all the anger, so had he. He had missed his best friend like a frozen off limb. Duke gave him a drink and a toast after he’d sent the barn owl on her way with his letter back. The new sting of alcohol slipped down his throat with the widest smile.
The toasting wasn’t the only new thing he encountered. Being in a household of only young adults was odd. One minute they were bustling with activity, and the next they shifted to going between their own activities and doing nothing at all. Charlie could sit and stare at the wall for hours and no one would blink twice. In between watching him try to write songs he spent the day teaching Duke domestic spells. Their first session was a disaster, ending with a few exploded bottles. Eventually, he got the hang of guiding the lingering trash. His food still a bit burnt when they had moved onto cooking, but it was edible. Duke insisted only one day be lessons. Charlie had offered to teach him out of sympathy and a touch of boredom, and Duke was happy to learn, but he didn’t want Charlie to feel responsible for something he should have learned a long time ago. They compromised by them visiting Flourish and Blotts, Duke buying domestic spell books and the new Scamander Guide to Dragons for Charlie. It occupied most of Charlie’s days for the next few days, with Duke occupying most of the nights.
Flooing back to the castle was bittersweet. This wasn’t going to last past the week and they both knew it. It was just a fun trip for him. Romania and touring the world was their future, not each other. He enjoyed this while he had it, and he’d hold onto the memory fondly as long as he had a mind. Kirley Duke would always be the boy who made Charlie realize he could be desired, even loved one day. He’d always be grateful for that. He could walk into adulthood a little taller, chest puffed out, Duke’s personal backstage pass in his pocket, and tailored blue suit in his trunk.
===
“Charlie?” Bill waved, snapping in front of his face. “You’ve been staring at that cloud for a while now. You alright?”
“What? Sorry, lost in thought. Did you say something?”
Charlie looked around. Golden grass, wheat fields in the distance, blue sky filled with clouds. He had to re-establish himself in his skin, feeling his mind drift back from the sea of memory.
“Letter came in ten minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“I have been,” Bill wracked his head with the envelope “it’s not my fault you're going deaf.”
He stuck his tongue out at him before turning to the letter, not bothering what Bill had done in return. He could guess just as easily.
“Who’s it from?” He asked bending over Charlie trying to snoop on his note.
“Top secret,” Charlie snapped the letter to his chest. “Felix, he wants me to stop by the pub. He has leads on our next job.”
“Never a day off for that one, huh?”
“Don’t think he has anyone to take off for.”
“So he’s coming up here just for you?” Bill asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a smirk. Charlie turned around to face him. Something in his posture similar to when he’d seen him after that Easter break, ready for Charlie’s full story.
“No,” he huffed flatly, “he goes back and forth between Romania and Wales for smuggling jobs. It’s no special trip.”
Bill shook his head, muttering out a “sure, sure” as he shuffled upstairs. Charlie rolled his eyes and stuffed the letter in his pocket. Felix’s owl hopped around the kitchen counter, pecking at some grapes.
“No Calleach, not those,” he hastily scoops her up, placing the short-eared owl away from his mother’s fruit bowl. “Here, I’ll get you some chicken. We have leftovers.”
The owl perked up, snapping her beak in delight. Charlie smiled. He and Calleach had a familiarity with each other by now. Chicken was her favorite, especially when he made it. She was snooty about her treats. A fine fit for Felix Rosier he thought as she flew away with his quick sprawl of a response. The man who still enjoyed luxury even if he’d severed his aristocratic family ties long ago. Despite his feelings on the tories he didn't mind Felix spoiling him when they were out on a job. It didn’t feel patronizing, like he was giving him everything Charlie didn’t have as a child to show off. It just felt like a gift.
He did not feel spoiled walking into their bar. Dingy at best and the setting of a villainous lair from a gang war book at worst. Peanut shells were all over the floor, blending in with every surface made out of dust-aged grey wood. Patrons with pulled up collars and rowdy voices mulled around, playing pool and guzzling glasses as big as Charlie. They weren’t here for the alcohol, they were here for the anonymity and the knowledge that the bartenders kept their mouths shut. It had taken ages for them to find a good place to discuss their smuggling plans, and Charlie wasn’t about to let any of the eggs in the black market fall into the wrong hands because they had to keep their voices down in someplace respectable.
Even at a place like this, the Weird Sisters ended up playing over the wireless. He couldn’t help but laugh, the ridiculous story of his night spilling from there. He couldn’t help but laugh at his younger self along with himself from the previous night.
“Hey, where did you end up going after that soundcheck? I just realized I don’t remember you being at the Celestial Ball.”
“I stayed in Hog’s Head after that,” Felix said, playing with the edge of his basket of fish and chips. “I was only there to smooth their deal over with Dumbledore and the other teachers. I had no desire to stay for the dance and have to watch you and Duke fondle each other.”
Charlie looked Felix up and down. His posture still straight as a nail but he seemed to sag despite that. Folding in on his fried food with the same odd face he had worn when Duke started first flirting with him. With a cold drip down his back and heat up his face, he put the puzzle pieces together. He was an idiot, and Felix was jealous.
“You—you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” Charlie blinked, not looking at Felix, and instead stuck on his shirley temple. His eyes not able to leave the bright red as he processed. All the clouded confusion from so many snippets of their history finally becomes clear.
“My God,” Felix breathed, “you had no idea?”
“I—” his mouth wobbled but still refused to shut in shock. “I thought I was just seeing things, that it couldn’t be true. How could it be?”
Felix’s shoulders dropped. His posture melted as he slid off his stool. “Oh Charles,” he whispered, breath barely felt and words the only thing in the room despite the raging noise around them. He slowly cupped his cheeks to give Charlie enough time to pull away if he didn't want the contact. Charlie let himself turn towards him, eyes going up to Felix’s face and going as close to locking eyes as he could get. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
“I know what I look like,” he scoffed. “People tell me what I look like all the time.”
“That’s not what I said,” he defended softly “It’s not solely your looks, it never was. It’s everything. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you touch, everything you are. All of you.”
“This whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” Felix admitted “but when we started writing letters to each other, I don’t know, something just grew in my chest.”
“I enamoured you?” Charlie supplied with a hesitant smile.
“No,” he said firmly, dark eyes growing intense and cupping his cheeks more completely “you became my sun, Charles Weasley.”
Charlie breathed. So scattered he couldn’t think of what else to do.
Bullshit, actually.
He cupped Felix’s face, leaning in with their foreheads leaning against each other. His flaming burnt umber eyes meeting deep into Felix’s chilled russet ones. For once in Charlie’s life, he felt comfortably warm.
“Kiss me.”
===
Felix kissed him. He’d kissed him and kissed him and they hadn’t stopped kissing each other since. Two months and kissing hadn’t grown old. Neither did holding hands or brushing their legs against each other as they charmed black market dealers. Neither did brushing each other’s hair before going to bed in their hotel room eggs happily sitting in their case in the corner. Neither did eating together or running like hell with an iron grip on each other’s hands as poacher buildings went up in flames. Neither did talking about dragons or arguing about Scamander’s new book on unicorn breeding.
It was an ease they had worked for, raked and ripped from the worst of odds. This was simply another layer. They still drove each other up the wall. Still pushed each other for better and better, but now they could make out after they came home.
Charlie laid on Felix’s bed, the first time he’d stayed at his house for the night since their relationship started. Felix’s fingers running through his hair and brushing against his hip, eyes half idle and drifting steadily closed. He hummed as he brushed, making Charlie shudder all over again.
“So,” Charlie panted, still out of breath and his voice horse “that’s what that's supposed to feel like.”