Fic: Beneath the Wedding Tent
May. 30th, 2014 09:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Beneath the Wedding Tent
Author:alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Harry Potter
Summary: Weddings aren't just for the wedding couple.
Word Count: 1120
Warnings: Semi-public sex.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest.
Day thirty prompt(s) used: I'll either find a way or make one, Pottery, Tent, Biscuit.
Kink: Partially clothed sex.
This pairing was suggested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adafrog. :)
Betas:sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Beneath the Wedding Tent
~
“One, two, three!”
The wedding tent rose slowly until its roof was floating steadily over the ground. Mr Weasley smiled. “Lovely job, lads.”
Harry exhaled, blowing hair out of his eyes. For all it looked deceptively easy, there was a reason it took several of them to do this each time it was needed. And with it only being three this time, it’d been a strain.
“Right, now we need to set up the inside--”
“Arthur!”
Mr Weasley winced. “Right after I see what Molly wants.”
“Harry and I can take of the inside, Dad.” Charlie patted Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll have it all set up in no time.”
Mr Weasley seemed to hesitate. “Maybe I can send George out to help you--”
Charlie shook his head. “He needs to be with Angelina right now.”
Mr Weasley sighed. “You’re right. And Bill’s with Fleur--”
Charlie hummed, his hand dropping to Harry’s waist. “Trust me, Dad. We’ve got this. We’ll either find a way to get it done or we’ll make one.”
“Thanks, lads.” With a wave, Mr Weasley took off for the house and Charlie steered Harry into the tent.
The tent came with a floor and furniture, but it was all jumbled up and needed sorting. It was a lot cooler in there, however, and Harry exhaled in relief. “Ugh, it’s hot,” he said. “Why couldn’t Ron and Hermione have decided to get married in November?”
“Because by then the baby would be here and Mum would have a cow,” replied Charlie.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I suppose.” He looked around. “So what do we do first?”
Charlie’s grip on Harry’s waist tightened and he leaned close, his voice low, dark. “First we christen the place.”
Harry swallowed hard, a frisson of arousal spiralling inside him. “You can’t mean--?”
“Oh yes I can.” Dropping his hand to Harry’s arse, he manoeuvred him in the direction of a bar area in the rear of the tent. “We’ll have to be quick, though, since Dad’s sure to be back soon to check on our progress.”
Once they were behind the bar, Charlie pulled Harry in for a searing kiss. His lips were chapped but his wet tongue as it moved in and out of Harry’s mouth quickly made that moot. Backing Harry against the bar, he plundered his mouth, not drawing back until they were both panting harshly.
“Charlie,” Harry moaned. “We shouldn’t--”
“Shh.” Charlie’s grin was wicked. “You think I don’t know you love the idea?” He palmed the front of Harry’s trousers, caressing his erection through his clothes. “The only question is if you can be quiet enough.” He smirked. “Can you?”
Slowly, Harry nodded.
“Good lad,” whispered Charlie. “Now undo you trousers.” A moment later Harry was being swung around, his chest being pressed to the bar as Charlie fumbled with his own clothes.
They moved quickly, Harry’s trembling fingers finally managing to undo his flies and shove his trousers and pants down over his hips. Charlie was right there, pressing up against him, panting hotly in his ear. “Wish I had time to open you slowly,” he murmured. “I’d lick you open until you screamed.”
Harry shuddered. “Charlie--”
“Mm, I know, baby.” Charlie muttered something and Harry felt slick and slightly loose. “But we have to do this fast.”
Stacking his arms on the bar, Harry leaned forward, resting his head on his arms. Charlie’s thumb slid over his slick hole, the very tip slipping inside Harry. Harry whined.
“Quiet,” Charlie ordered. “We don’t want anyone to hear, do we?”
Harry groaned, but before he could say anything Charlie was breaching him, pressing deep, making a place for his thick cock inside him. He gasped.
“Fuck, but you’re tight,” Charlie moaned, sliding even deeper. When he was fully seated, his chest moulded to Harry’s back, he growled, “Love fucking you so much.”
Closing his eyes, Harry whimpered. “Please--”
“I know,” whispered Charlie, pulling back, the drag of his cock against Harry’s prostate making him see stars. “And I will.”
Charlie gave no quarter after that, fucking Harry hard and deep. Harry loved all the ways Charlie fucked him. The night before it had been long and slow and gentle, explaining why they’d been late for breakfast, but as Charlie rammed into him in the tent, only a few feet from the rest of the family, Harry had to admit that this was his favourite. In fact, just the thought of someone walking in on them as Charlie slammed into him was making his arousal spiral even higher. Harry clenched his muscles. “I’m going to--”
“Hang on, love.” Charlie swivelled his hips and Harry arched his back, taking him deeper.
Within a few moments, Charlie’s rhythm went rough and with a low moan, he stilled, emptying himself into Harry.
Harry was trembling on the edge, his cock throbbing with the need to come. “Charlie--”
“Got you,” whispered Charlie, his hand coming around to pull Harry’s cock. It took only a couple of strokes to bring Harry off and he was coming, shooting his seed onto Charlie’s hand and the floor.
They collapsed atop the bar, Charlie’s face buried in the back of Harry’s neck. Outside Harry could hear Mr Weasley’s voice getting closer. “Charlie!”
“I hear him. Fuck.” Charlie stood up, pulling out of Harry. Before Harry could clean himself up and pull up his clothes, however, Charlie stopped him, his fingers pressing something into his arse. Harry gasped.
“What are you--?”
“Beads,” murmured Charlie, pressing another inside. “This way my come stays inside you.” He nipped Harry’s ear as he pushed the rest in. “And if you’re good, I’ll take them out during the reception.”
He tugged at the string gently and, unbelievably, Harry’s spent cock twitched. Harry’s eyes almost crossed. “I can’t--”
“You can. And you’ll love it.” After a final pat on Harry’s bottom, Charlie moved away, fixing his clothes. “Now hurry, Dad will be in here soon.”
Harry barely got his clothes in place before Mr Weasley pulled back the tent flap. “Molly wants the pottery for the flowers around the perimeter and she’s going to be bringing biscuits down in a moment, so we need a table here--” He stopped, sniffing. “Everything all right here?”
“Brilliant, Dad,” said Charlie, emerging from behind the bar. “I was just showing Harry how to set up the bar. Why don’t I help you bring in the pottery?”
And as Charlie steered his dad out of the tent, Harry sagged against the bar and groaned. The day was going to kill him. The beads shifted inside him and, despite himself he smiled. But what a way to go.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Harry Potter
Summary: Weddings aren't just for the wedding couple.
Word Count: 1120
Warnings: Semi-public sex.
A/N: Written for
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest. Day thirty prompt(s) used: I'll either find a way or make one, Pottery, Tent, Biscuit.
Kink: Partially clothed sex.
This pairing was suggested by
adafrog. :)Betas:
sevfan and emynn. Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Beneath the Wedding Tent
~
“One, two, three!”
The wedding tent rose slowly until its roof was floating steadily over the ground. Mr Weasley smiled. “Lovely job, lads.”
Harry exhaled, blowing hair out of his eyes. For all it looked deceptively easy, there was a reason it took several of them to do this each time it was needed. And with it only being three this time, it’d been a strain.
“Right, now we need to set up the inside--”
“Arthur!”
Mr Weasley winced. “Right after I see what Molly wants.”
“Harry and I can take of the inside, Dad.” Charlie patted Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll have it all set up in no time.”
Mr Weasley seemed to hesitate. “Maybe I can send George out to help you--”
Charlie shook his head. “He needs to be with Angelina right now.”
Mr Weasley sighed. “You’re right. And Bill’s with Fleur--”
Charlie hummed, his hand dropping to Harry’s waist. “Trust me, Dad. We’ve got this. We’ll either find a way to get it done or we’ll make one.”
“Thanks, lads.” With a wave, Mr Weasley took off for the house and Charlie steered Harry into the tent.
The tent came with a floor and furniture, but it was all jumbled up and needed sorting. It was a lot cooler in there, however, and Harry exhaled in relief. “Ugh, it’s hot,” he said. “Why couldn’t Ron and Hermione have decided to get married in November?”
“Because by then the baby would be here and Mum would have a cow,” replied Charlie.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I suppose.” He looked around. “So what do we do first?”
Charlie’s grip on Harry’s waist tightened and he leaned close, his voice low, dark. “First we christen the place.”
Harry swallowed hard, a frisson of arousal spiralling inside him. “You can’t mean--?”
“Oh yes I can.” Dropping his hand to Harry’s arse, he manoeuvred him in the direction of a bar area in the rear of the tent. “We’ll have to be quick, though, since Dad’s sure to be back soon to check on our progress.”
Once they were behind the bar, Charlie pulled Harry in for a searing kiss. His lips were chapped but his wet tongue as it moved in and out of Harry’s mouth quickly made that moot. Backing Harry against the bar, he plundered his mouth, not drawing back until they were both panting harshly.
“Charlie,” Harry moaned. “We shouldn’t--”
“Shh.” Charlie’s grin was wicked. “You think I don’t know you love the idea?” He palmed the front of Harry’s trousers, caressing his erection through his clothes. “The only question is if you can be quiet enough.” He smirked. “Can you?”
Slowly, Harry nodded.
“Good lad,” whispered Charlie. “Now undo you trousers.” A moment later Harry was being swung around, his chest being pressed to the bar as Charlie fumbled with his own clothes.
They moved quickly, Harry’s trembling fingers finally managing to undo his flies and shove his trousers and pants down over his hips. Charlie was right there, pressing up against him, panting hotly in his ear. “Wish I had time to open you slowly,” he murmured. “I’d lick you open until you screamed.”
Harry shuddered. “Charlie--”
“Mm, I know, baby.” Charlie muttered something and Harry felt slick and slightly loose. “But we have to do this fast.”
Stacking his arms on the bar, Harry leaned forward, resting his head on his arms. Charlie’s thumb slid over his slick hole, the very tip slipping inside Harry. Harry whined.
“Quiet,” Charlie ordered. “We don’t want anyone to hear, do we?”
Harry groaned, but before he could say anything Charlie was breaching him, pressing deep, making a place for his thick cock inside him. He gasped.
“Fuck, but you’re tight,” Charlie moaned, sliding even deeper. When he was fully seated, his chest moulded to Harry’s back, he growled, “Love fucking you so much.”
Closing his eyes, Harry whimpered. “Please--”
“I know,” whispered Charlie, pulling back, the drag of his cock against Harry’s prostate making him see stars. “And I will.”
Charlie gave no quarter after that, fucking Harry hard and deep. Harry loved all the ways Charlie fucked him. The night before it had been long and slow and gentle, explaining why they’d been late for breakfast, but as Charlie rammed into him in the tent, only a few feet from the rest of the family, Harry had to admit that this was his favourite. In fact, just the thought of someone walking in on them as Charlie slammed into him was making his arousal spiral even higher. Harry clenched his muscles. “I’m going to--”
“Hang on, love.” Charlie swivelled his hips and Harry arched his back, taking him deeper.
Within a few moments, Charlie’s rhythm went rough and with a low moan, he stilled, emptying himself into Harry.
Harry was trembling on the edge, his cock throbbing with the need to come. “Charlie--”
“Got you,” whispered Charlie, his hand coming around to pull Harry’s cock. It took only a couple of strokes to bring Harry off and he was coming, shooting his seed onto Charlie’s hand and the floor.
They collapsed atop the bar, Charlie’s face buried in the back of Harry’s neck. Outside Harry could hear Mr Weasley’s voice getting closer. “Charlie!”
“I hear him. Fuck.” Charlie stood up, pulling out of Harry. Before Harry could clean himself up and pull up his clothes, however, Charlie stopped him, his fingers pressing something into his arse. Harry gasped.
“What are you--?”
“Beads,” murmured Charlie, pressing another inside. “This way my come stays inside you.” He nipped Harry’s ear as he pushed the rest in. “And if you’re good, I’ll take them out during the reception.”
He tugged at the string gently and, unbelievably, Harry’s spent cock twitched. Harry’s eyes almost crossed. “I can’t--”
“You can. And you’ll love it.” After a final pat on Harry’s bottom, Charlie moved away, fixing his clothes. “Now hurry, Dad will be in here soon.”
Harry barely got his clothes in place before Mr Weasley pulled back the tent flap. “Molly wants the pottery for the flowers around the perimeter and she’s going to be bringing biscuits down in a moment, so we need a table here--” He stopped, sniffing. “Everything all right here?”
“Brilliant, Dad,” said Charlie, emerging from behind the bar. “I was just showing Harry how to set up the bar. Why don’t I help you bring in the pottery?”
And as Charlie steered his dad out of the tent, Harry sagged against the bar and groaned. The day was going to kill him. The beads shifted inside him and, despite himself he smiled. But what a way to go.
~
