Summary: He thought he would get a fling, but ended up with a bit more than that.
DISCLAIMER: I am not J.K.Rowling. Thank you, Kara, for your help and encouragement, and the title as well.
Nominated for a QSQ in the Same Sex Pairing category.
Categories: Next Generation Characters: None
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Slash, Strong Profanity
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 2015
Read: 2184
Published: 12/15/10
Updated: 12/15/10
1. Chapter 1 by hestiajones
Surveying the sight with his arms resting on the fence, he thought Hogsmeade looked beautiful that day. It was still snowing lazily, and while most people would complain about having to plow their way through, the great expanse of white calmed him. That, combined with the peace and quiet the much-abandoned Shrieking Shack offered, made the day rather special for him.
That was not all, though. The highlight of his outing was neither solitude nor scenic beauty, for he was, after all, a teenager. Something had to contribute to the perfect arrangement of the moment, make it more interesting. A setting was only so remarkable as the event made it, and when that event had something to do with romance, why, nothing could beat its appeal.
He chuckled at the very thought of the word “romance”. How odd it sounded. But there was no other way in which he could describe it; “sexual attraction” sounded crude, and “love” just seemed to take it too far.
Of course, he had to admit that he was, by all accounts, sexually attracted to the person he was waiting for. He wanted to violently kiss those lips while running his fingers through the mad, curly brown hair. Something about the cool blue eyes usually got him bothered. Heck, even the errant freckles tickled his fancy.
Still, that wasn’t all there was to his feelings. There were plenty of good-looking students whom he could run after, and this person was nowhere in the top ten as far as that matter was concerned. The thing was, he actually liked this person, actually cared.
He wouldn’t have known the person if it weren’t for Quidditch and the school’s DADA club. That was how they had met. Their friendship hadn’t had an ideal beginning, seeing as they were the spawns of men who had passionately derided each other; there had been prejudice from both sides. But they had soon found that they could get on quite well, even though they would have to resort to making a fool out of the other. It was a habit they couldn’t do without, and they had grown accustomed to sprouting horns during breakfast in the Great Hall, or getting Bubotuber Pus in the mail.
This person made his life better, he had to accept it. And yet, it wasn’t that thing called “love”. For him, “love” was supposed to mean much more than this. To be honest, he didn’t even want to be in love. He was too young, and life an endless universe of adventures and opportunities. Love sounded mature; he wasn’t prepared for maturity yet.
What he was looking forward to, and hoping to get, was a fling, one that preferably came with all the fun, and without any of the baggage. And this person happened to be the only one he wanted to have that fling with.
“Boo,” whispered someone in his ear.
“Bloody frigging “”
The sound of laughter came from somewhere to his left, and he began to discern the unusual shape of the air which could only be attributed to a well-executed Disllusionment Charm.
“Fuck you, Hugo,” he said, pointing his wand at the laughing, semi-visible figure. “Finite.”
The first thing to materialise was the irresistibly curly brown hair; the second thing he noticed was the blue eyes which were crinkled in mirth; the third was the full lips; fourth … well, he usually stopped at the third.
“How long have you been here, then?” asked Hugo.
“Fifteen minutes, and damn you, you git. My heart rate’s still going fast.”
“Want me to hold you?” asked Hugo innocently, holding out his arms wide open.
“Shut it.”
“Your sleek blond hair is all ruffled,” continued Hugo.
Before he could comment, Hugo reached out and tugged his hair into place, while muttering, “Can’t believe that you believe this do is still in style, mate.”
“Well, I can’t cut it,” he said. “I have thin hair. I apologise for not having your genes in that department.”
“Poor you.”
“But I’m blessed with a clean chest, and not a furry mat, like some primate we know.”
“Hey!”
He chuckled, and dragging Hugo’s arm, he led him away.
“Where are we going?” asked Hugo.
“Some place where we can get up to shenanigans.”
“Inside the Shrieking Shack, for instance?”
“No, you troll! The smell would put us off. At its back, more like, and you don’t even know how to get inside that shack.”
“But, of course,” said Hugo, in a drawl that he had inherited from his father, and often slipped into. “Pure-blood noses can only stand perfumed parlours.”
“At least we don’t live in a hovel, Weasley.”
“Is that what your dad told you?” asked Hugo, laughing.
“My grandfather, actually,” he replied. “Anyway, that is not important. We have reached where we were supposed to reach.”
They looked around the scene of their soon-to-be-committed crime. It was horrid. The back of the Shrieking Shack was old and dilapidated; the wood had assumed a musty black, dirty facade. He supposed that the place must be surrounded by weeds in warmer seasons, but the snow had taken care of that.
“Tergeo,” he said softly, trying to clean up the wall a bit.
“This really was an odd place to choose,” said Hugo as he took out his wand and helped draw out the dirt. “I bet few people come here to make out. Plus, I don’t really know why we are cleaning this up.”
“Few people come here. Actually, I bet nobody comes here, that’s why I chose it,” he answered and stowed his wand back in his pocket. “And we are cleaning this up because …”
He pushed Hugo against the wall. The startled boy began to say something, but stopped when he leaned towards him, his left hand pressed on the wall, and his right hand touching the other boy’s cheek.
“Suave git,” remarked Hugo.
“Do you ever shut up?”
“I would,” said Hugo, fidgeting and moving away, “but this wall is icy cold, mate.”
He rolled his eyes, snatched Hugo’s wand and cast a Warming Charm on the wall. It was now very wet. Cursing loudly, he jabbed the wand several times in its direction, shooting Drying Charms here and there.
When Hugo returned to his position, he was smiling. “You’d make some girl a nice, thoughtful boyfriend.”
“Her loss,” he said absent-mindedly, eager to get back to what he had started. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“About … this.”
“What is there to think?”
“You are … you are okay with it, then.”
An expression of doubt flitted across Hugo’s face. “I don’t know … I mean, I won’t know until we have really tried, would I?”
“But we have kissed before!”
The note of panic in his voice surprised him, but Hugo didn’t’ seem to have noticed. “Yeah, we have. But think about it. What if it ruins our friendship?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, not willing to give up. Then, he moved in, closed his eyes, and kissed Hugo. There wasn’t much of a response at first, but as he urged him, his fingers roaming through those curls, Hugo seemed to fully thaw.
Soon, he felt his neck being caressed tenderly, but for some reason, Hugo’s long, rough fngers never touched his head. Curious, he broke off and asked, “Why are you keeping away from my hair?”
“Don’t want to spoil it,” said Hugo.
“Stupid sod.”
Hugo grinned and drew him closer towards him, until they were almost nose to nose. “All right, all right. So, I like kissing you. But …” He was frowning again. “I love you too much as a friend to risk this.”
“You don’t want to lose me?”
“No.” Hugo kissed his nose; the gesture made his throat ache, for some reason. “We can’t have it both ways, do we?”
“Hugo,” he said emphatically. “I can’t live without this now.”
“You’ll still have me.”
“No … I mean, I can’t live without this. I would like to kiss you whenever I want, to know that you’re thinking of me as I am of you, to …” He kissed him again. “Bloody hell! I couldn’t bear it if you went to someone else.”
“I won’t,” said Hugo.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked. “If you’re not mine, if this is open-ended and you’re a free agent, you’d leave if you found someone you liked.”
“Spoken like a true Slytherin,” said Hugo abruptly, letting go of him and looking away.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he replied quickly.
“But all you want is a fucking fling,” replied Hugo, his voice rising. “That’s what you said. I care too much for the friendship we have to bring a torrid affair into the picture.”
“A serious relationship would do more damage, Hugo.”
“So, if it isn’t serious, why the hell do you want me tied down to you? Why can’t I be a free agent?”
“Because “ because “ ”
“The thing is,” said Hugo, finally meeting his eye, “you don’t want to be tied to me.”
He had nothing to say to that.
“Isn’t that what it is?” Hugo continued. “You want me as your friend and your fuck-buddy. And that’s fine. Lovers can be friends. But you will have to be mine, too.”
“I am yours,” he said. “You know I am yours.”
“No, you aren’t,” said Hugo. “If there’s one thing you are right now, it’s ‘confused’.”
As soon as he had said that, Hugo shrugged him off and started walking away. Stunned by the ugly turn of events, he stood there, staring at the wall, unable to process his thoughts. And then, it hit him.
“Hugo!”
No answer. He ran “ as fast as anybody could in the thick snow “ and caught up with Hugo. “I “ get “ it,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”
Hugo didn’t deign to reply, but waited for him to go on.
“I was being selfish, I know it,” he said. “But I “ I like you too much, okay? I am ready to do it. Be committed and … you know …”
To his alarm, Hugo just stared at him and didn’t speak for a long time. “You aren’t ready, no,” he finally replied. “You’re just scared to see me go away.”
“No, I am,” he insisted, desparate to convince him. “You’re right. I am scared to see you go away, but that’s not why I stopped you. Being the selfish prat that I am, I’d have let you go if I honestly didn’t want to be tied down to anybody, no matter how much it hurt me. But I can’t let you go, you see. That’s got to mean something.”
Again, there was that frightful silence and steady glare, and he felt himself being scrutinised.
“All right, you sod,” he said, “I fucking love you.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow in reply.
“I must be mad,” he said, nodding. “But … really…”
“All right,” said Hugo, at long last. “All right. But, we start slow.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t have the liberty to pounce on me whenever you like,” said Hugo irritably. “Especially considering the fact that you still don’t know what the hell you want,” he added.
“But …”
“But, yes, we are going out. As of now, we are …boyfriend and boyfriend.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Liar.”
“No, I do,” he said, giving Hugo’s cheek a peck. “I actually do.”
“Merlin help us.”
“Shut up.”
Later, as they walked back to school arm in arm, he reflected upon how things had finally turned out. He was, funnily enough, in love, had been so all the time, and he had found that it wasn’t half bad.
End Notes:
Happy Birthday, Emma! I hope you liked it.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.