Title: Hazy Cerise
Pairing: Bill Weasley/Harry Potter
Warnings: explicit sexing, implied rimming, and Bill talks a bit during the sexing
Wordcount: a little over 3,600 words
Summary: Harry asks Bill to help him uncover what he suspects is a Horcrux in a deserted manor. It is a booby trap, and now they're stuck together until someone finds them.
Author's Notes: For LJ's community ownficfest. This needs to be made slightly AU and post-HBP. Hope you enjoy it. :)
Many thanks to my BFF, T, who pokes me into finishing the fic, and for the most awesome mod on this planet whose patient should be called legendary.
The layer of dust whipped angrily up into the air with every step they made, and refused to settle. Its paleness stuck in a stark contrast to their dark clothing, making them visible in the camouflage of night. They moved on, wands raised, watchful of their surroundings and their goal. They knew it was in here, somewhere, and they were going to find it no matter the cost. Their aim never wavered as they drifted past niches and corners, ignoring the darkness trapped behind each alcove, until the destination.
Cautiously, Harry opened the door and waited for a small whirlwind signifying the breaking of a preservation spell to pass. They had agreed that Bill would go in there first, though, so it was Bill who led Harry into the room, pace slow but with no hesitation. The room they were in was large; larger than what Harry remembered from the floor plan or what he had mentally calculated. It was pitch black, but they came prepared. Harry was glad that he had insisted they strapped flashlights to their wand arms. In this depth of darkness, flashlights might not help much, but they would work better than Lumos and were more dependable. This room, it looked as if it could swallow magic. They knew that they could not stay long, not in this room; the air was tainted with sulfur and practically vibrating with electricity, making it almost unbearable. It reeked of evilness, of Power not of this world.
There was an altar here, somewhere, they only had to find it. That book Hermione had found was very clear that what he wanted would be on top of it, in the circle of the Venus symbol. At which point Bill would take the lead again and inspect the altar for any trap or dark magic.
It took a lot of time, but they managed to find the altar fifty paces to the right in between the clutter and litter of broken furniture. They both noticed a thin blood red circle around it, but there was no way they would back out now. Bill crouched down and waved his wand in a complicated pattern above the line, and even though Harry tried to listen to the spell casting, it was rather incomprehensible to him.
Someone sighed, not quite content nor displeased. It wasn't their sigh, both of them realised at the same time. Not theirs.
They glanced around, nervous, hands jittering all over the place, making flickering crisscrosses of narrow rays from their flashlights. Nothing came out from the dark, but they didn't let their guard down.
It came quickly, not unexpected, but faster than they could defend themselves. It started as a hiss, and then it grew in volume to the point of deafening. Then they started to move. Bill recovered first, casting a Protego that protected them from nothing. Or rather there was nothing for it to protect against. Harry startled when he felt something brushed past his back, slimy and cold against his clothed skin.
Then Bill started choking.
"Bill!" Harry gasped, staring at Bill in shock as he struggled for breaths.
Rushing to crouch down beside the fallen man, Harry struggled with unseen hands clenching tightly around Bill's neck. The redheaded was losing complexion fast.
"Damn it, damn it," Harry chanted, brain searching fruitlessly for something, anything to make the invisible hands dissipate.
He was so preoccupied it was no wonder he didn't prepare for when another invisible hand grasped for his throat and wrapped around it in a tight, unforgiving grip.
Agonised seconds went by slowly, taking Harry and Bill both to oblivion.
It might have been hours or days ago since their capture. Harry could not be certain, but the light from their flashlights had died out a few minutes back. They had tried exploring their prison twice, but there seemed to be no end to the walls. Their Lumos did not work here, they had discovered quickly, nor did any spell that they could think of. There was light, though. Small beams of light rained across the walls and floor in random patterns so it was not completely dark, thankfully, but the light was dim enough that they could not see properly three feet away.
At least the air from a vent, somewhere far above their reach, was fresh and pleasantly cool. Bill had found water seeping through a part of the wall a few minutes' walk back. It looked clean enough, but no one dared try to drink it. They were not that desperate yet.
Rendered completely unable to help themselves, Bill convinced Harry to rest for a while; his voice still held a bit of hope that they would escape, somehow, in the not so far future. Harry settled down, eyes closed and breaths fast in anxiety, Bill's proximity burning like a furnace at his side. Harry had been itching to reach out to the man, partly to find comfort in the other's confidence, and partly to send unvoiced apologies. The loud silence broke in interims with the thump-thump of their heartbeats their only entertainment for a while.
Harry didn't remember falling asleep, but he was startled awake when Bill gently shifted his shoulder. He let out a small groan due to sore muscles.
"Sorry," Harry whispered, apologetic, but Bill shrugged and smiled.
"No problem," he assured. "Listen, I'm thinking we should turn back to that water source. We don't know how long until anyone will notice we're missing, and how long 'till they figure out where and how to find us."
Having no other suggestion, Harry nodded his assent. They tracked their way back until Harry slipped; his shoulder impacted against the wall and came up wet to the end of his sleeve. They settled down a few metres away from the pooling water, Harry attempting in vain to dry his shirt sleeve with his handkerchief. After a while, he finally gave up and sighed in irritation as he took off the clinging shirt and put it down on the floor to wait for it to dry. Beside him, Bill raised his brows but did not comment on his half nakedness.
A breeze brushed their skin and Harry shivered, both from unexplainable fear and from its coldness. Tentatively, he shifted closer to Bill, his naked arm brushing Bill's clothed one. Without allowing himself much thought and somewhat encouraged by Bill's silence so far, Harry leaned some more into the blessing heat of Bill's arm. He was starting to get sleepy again when he felt it; the tickling feelings of Bill's long hair on his bare limbs. The hair went everywhere, fanning across Bill's muscular arm and long enough to blanket the top of Harry's shoulder. Bill's eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply.
Much as he wished to return the favor and let Bill sleep peacefully, Harry was going to laugh soon if the hair didn't go away. He noticed how ridiculously soft and silky it was, and it reminded him a bit of Cho's long pretty hair. The color was not the same, but the texture might be – rich and velvety smooth to his clumsy touch. Harry glanced at Bill again, itching to prove his theory on Bill's hair, but refrained from doing so. He, however, could not stop thinking about it.
Harry's fidgeting must have alerted him because Bill turned and looked at him, eyes bleary but amused. "Sorry, the band was pulling at my hair, so I thought I'd just free my scalp from the torture a bit."
"No, sorry I woke you up," Harry mumbled.
Bill smiled again and kind of wiggled to find a comfortable position. Harry told himself not to lean into the man to seek warmth again. His determination, however, was shot down when Bill smirked and told him that his shoulder was now free of the tickling hair.
Harry turned his face away but rested his head on Bill's shoulder, embarrassed now that he knew for certain Bill wasn't actually asleep, but not stupid enough as not to take advantage of the invitation. He was relieved, too, that after knowing it, the temptation to touch the damned hair disappeared completely.
"We should probably try to call for help," Harry muttered after resting in silence for a while.
"Yeah, but I'm not sure who will come looking for us," Bill said, pursing his lip thoughtfully.
"Good point," Harry admitted, falling silent again. He was starting to doubt if they would ever leave this place. Hermione might get a clue, eventually, but even then it would not be so simple as just looking for, even less finding the right incantation to trigger whatever it was that had brought them here. Harry was pretty sure that it had been something that Bill did on the red line, but stating his thought aloud might not be the best thing in this situation. Besides, Bill had probably already come to that conclusion himself.
"Can you guess how long we've been here?" Harry asked instead, squinting at the vent in hope of figuring out the time from the light coming through it. Of course, as expected, Harry was left as enlightened as he already had been seconds ago.
Bill thought for a minute and replied, voice uncertain, "Possibly less than six hours. We haven't started getting hungry yet, right?"
Because of his mentioning of hungriness, Harry realized that yes, he was ravenous. "Make that more than six hours. I think I could eat a cow right now."
Pointing wordlessly at the pooling water, Bill nudged at Harry's arm in encouragement. "Wanna try that now? It won't help much, but water is better than nothing."
After much consideration, Harry reluctantly nodded and moved to stand in front of the small pool. He was surprised to find Bill rushing in front of him and crouching down, cupping a small amount of water in one hand and sniffing it.
"Not bad-smelling, most likely not waste water from any loo," Bill said jokingly. "Can't be sure about the color because it's too dark to see properly, but there's still a way to try if it's drinkable…"
Before Harry could protest, Bill let the water rain down into the pool, leaving only a small amount of it on his fingers. Using only the tips, Bill brushed the wet fingers on the inside of his lip, face scrunching in concentration as he waited.
"Smells funny in the mouth," Bill complained, but seeing that he hadn't started choking on his tongue or falling down death after ten minutes, he nodded at Harry to start drinking.
Harry was bewildered to find that the water tasted of chlorine, faint but still noticeable, just like when he'd sneaked into the pool right after cleaning and the water, still fresh from the tap, was filling in along with the chemicals dumped in to kill any possible germs.
"I'm sure this is safe," Harry said, looking at Bill. "The smell you mentioned is from a Muggle… potion put into water to kill diseases. It's safe to drink, even though it doesn't smell pleasant."
Bill looked faintly interested (and if this were Mr. Weasley who was with Harry, the questions would start coming), but didn't ask further questions as he swallowed down big gulps of water.
Filled up with water until his stomach ached, Harry led Bill back to their claimed place and waited.
They found a few sheets of cloth and what they perceived as a mattress on the second day. Exhausted and pained all over from sitting on the cold stone floor for so long, they were not about to start being shy around each other when Bill stripped to his boxers and crawled into the nest they'd made out of the sheets and mattress, Harry securely tucked inside his arms. Bill's chin poked his head and the muscular arms suffocated him a little, but Harry was in pure bliss of warmth and did not think to complain.
From that point on, it was their habit to start exploring as soon as both of them woke up and they ended the day on the same bed when either of them started to get tired.
Harry tried not to acknowledge almost dragging Bill back to their bed each day, eager for a cuddle, even though Bill obviously wanted to go on. He didn't count the days even though each morning Bill would cross out a day off their makeshift calendar.
The crosses went on for nearly a half of their one-week calendar when it started.
Neither of them was certain who made the first move, but Harry blamed Bill's ridiculous hair. They were lying together, sleepy and not completely willing to start another day with another fruitless search for a way out, with Harry sprawling partly on top of Bill. Winds from the vent were particularly vicious on that day, and Harry shuddered as he snuggled deeper into the cocoon of Bill's right arm and the multiple layers of sheet. Strands of Bill's hair not trapped under him and Harry were blowing slightly on the wind, and Harry, irritated, grabbed for them. Bill was jerked awake by the rough handling of his hair, and sat up suddenly. Harry bounced off his chest and fell off the mattress. By strange circumstance, Harry's leg was still trapped in between Bill's, and the twist from his fall forced Bill to follow the motion. When things settled down again, they breathed hard and stared at each other in surprise, legs tangled together in an impossible way.
Harry was aware of how close Bill's crotch was to his own when Bill started trying to detangle himself, but stopped abruptly. The friction from that one rub almost made Harry's head spin. His body's reaction, however, was even more instant than his brain's. Mortified at his bulging boxers, Harry blushed hotly and held his breath, waiting for ridicule which was sure to come.
Unexpectedly, Bill only looked at him with an unreadable expression, making Harry squirm uncomfortably under the stare. Then Bill bent down, down, down, until his lips touched Harry's gently. Soft breath rained on his cheek and lips, asking permission. Harry wasn't aware he had responded to the teasing touch until his tongue was lured into Bill's mouth, battling playfully yet shyly with Bill's.
Feeling like he was being carried away by a whirlwind, Harry panted and moaned as Bill pulled down his boxers, his mouth planting hot kisses down his torso. Swallowing around Bill's invading fingers, Harry bit down softly in warning as Bill dipped his deft tongue into his navel and licked around it. Bill's free hand was still conspicuously missing, and Harry was both dreading and anticipating the whereabouts of it. Hoping to make it quite clear just where he was in need of immediate attention, he lifted his hips and ground his weeping cock against Bill's chest, but only got a chuckle in reply to his attempt.
Frustrated, Harry bit on the fingers more forcefully this time and looked up with hazed eyes at Bill's mouth.
"Want me to use my mouth?" Bill asked, smirking around the words. Harry was tempted to just call it quit simply because of that infuriating smile, but his lower brain was in veto of that thought.
As if sensing Harry's irritation, Bill's took Harry in his hand and rubbed, using enough force to make Harry squirm, and successfully scattered any thought Harry might have had. Possibly thinking Harry was sufficiently distracted, Bill pulled his fingers from Harry's mouth and rubbed the wet digits on his sphincter, delicately coating it with the makeshift lube. He made his way inside Harry with difficulty, but his hand stroking Harry's leaking shaft and his mouth licking and spouting nonsense near Harry's ear were relaxing the muscle clenching on his fingers.
Patiently, Bill worked Harry into a boneless pile of flesh and lust, practically begging Bill to take him to make the torture stop. Satisfied by his preparation, Bill turned Harry onto his stomach and slowly pushed into the quivering body. He thrust jerkily a few times, trying to find a rhythm Harry could easily take, but forced his desperate hips to stop moving when Harry cried out raggedly.
"Come on, Harry," Bill urged, "Take me in. Just a bit. Come on, you want me deeper."
Harry closed his eyes and sighed when he felt a gentle tease of teeth and a delicate lick on his earlobe. He shivered and whimpered when the friction of a hand on his cock head and the feeling of another hand playing mercilessly with his already filled hole were starting to become overwhelming.
Bill pulled out until only the head of his cock was left nestle just inside the ring of muscle, making Harry almost demand that he get back in. As a finger wiggled its way inside him, Harry bit back a startled moan and attempted to stay still. Slowly, the finger slipped in and out as if trying to map the contour of his insides.
"Ah!" Harry shouted in alarm as the tip of another finger, this time still dripping wet, was slowly pushing inside. Puzzled and worried, he turned to look at Bill.
"You're still too tight," Bill explained before he could voice the question, his voice raspy and harsh as he tried to stop an involuntary thrust. "Need you to loosen up more."
Harry bit his lip as the liquid on Bill's finger (possibly Bill's spit combined with Harry's pre-come) made its way deeper and messily covered his insides with sticky warmth. He could not stifle his moans when Bill started to rock slow and hard against him, rubbing the coarse hairs on Harry's bare ass when he swiveled his hip in a fast pace. Harry found himself desperately grabbing the sheet as he writhed and moaned for moremoreharder.
Jerking and crying out Bill's name in abandon, Harry let himself go and covered the sheet and a part of his body with sticky white semen. Behind him, Bill was still pounding away as if his life depended on it, making Harry groan and clench harshly. Bill gasped and shuddered in response, momentarily stunned by the sensation, then came violently.
Harry shuddered for the last time, and went completely still. Bill sighed and pulled him closer, breathing deeply of his heady scent. Exhausted but sated, Harry wiggled his ass and tried to find a position he could be comfortable and still have Bill wedged inside him at the same time. Having just found out that he liked the feeling of Bill's cock inside him a lot, he wasn't ready to let Bill pull out yet. Bill, however, had another idea.
"Come on," Bill murmured, rocking his hip a bit to catch Harry's attention. "We need to move to the bed, it's cold down here."
Grudgingly, Harry agreed, and they slowly moved their tired bodies onto the mattress, not caring that Harry was wet from both of their come and would dirty their bed.
That night, Harry learned that after being fucked with no protection, he needed to be cleaned up both outside and inside. He wasn't going to complain when they used Bill's tongue as a wet wipe.
Bill said 'we could never talk about it' the second time they fucked. He explained that it didn't mean they could 'not talk about it' when Harry glared at him, but that he had meant that if Harry didn't want to talk about it, they could pretend this never happened. Bill then learned that opening his mouth, in this particular way, was not a good thing to do during sex.
Harry forgave him in the next few hours, but it was pointless by then.
It was exactly four days after they had arrived in this trap that Hermione and Ron found them. Remus was beside himself with worry and Dumbledore looked at Harry with a mixed expression of quiet disappointment and relief. Mrs. Weasley cried when she hugged Harry, and cried even more when she smothered Bill with her motherly chiding and furious hugs.
Being the center of the storm of motion while Dumbledore arranged for an investigation of their prison and Hermione asked a hundred questions, Harry and Bill didn't have any chance to actually say good-bye. Harry found himself being shipped off to Hogwarts' infirmary to be checked up on, while Bill was called up almost immediately by Gringotts. Harry let himself be dragged around, head blanked but full to the brim at the same time with memories of Billbillandbill.
When things started to slow down again for Harry, he sat on a couch near the fireplace, trains of unidentifiable and jumbled emotions running into each other. Noticing the way the flames gleamed on the metallic surface of a photo frame, Harry was reminded of how Bill's hair had pooled on their mattress, contrasting with the paleness of Harry's hand as he played with its silkiness. Turning away only did him so much good. He found himself staring at a parchment left by a first year; its pale texture called up a memory of Bill's freckled hands as they slid over Harry's torso and moved to spread his legs wide apart.
The dull ache between his legs was also not helping. Harry shifted and tried not to think of how Bill fit into the crook between his legs, and of the length of his cock slipping down and up until it filled Harry so good it hurt.
Bill was driving him crazy.
Harry glanced at the small note sent from Dumbledore that he should spend the rest of the break at the Weasleys', and found himself growing hard from anticipation. Harry couldn't wait for the moment Madame Pomfrey deemed him fit enough to be released into the wide world again.