Title: Night Sweats
A soft breeze blew across Harry’s bare back and ruffled the hair on his neck. He grumbled sleepily and rolled over, settling down into the sheets. He felt the obvious presence of someone lying next to him, and memories and visions of the night before came rushing back. Bill’s mouth and hands all over him, and his cock deep inside him…Harry was fully awake now.
He felt like jumping up and shouting. Voldemort could come for him now. If he died, at least he wouldn’t die a virgin. He couldn’t wait to tell Ron. Ron hadn’t yet got past the masturbating stage, but Harry…Harry had just had sex, unbelievable sex, with a gorgeous man, who was…Ron’s brother. Uh-oh. That complicated things a bit. Liking other blokes was one thing, but sleeping with your best friend’s brother was another subject altogether. Harry decided this would be one of the few secrets he kept from Ron. Maybe he’d tell him some other time, but not now.
Harry relaxed into the pillow and his mind went back to the events of the night before. Just as he was remembering how it felt to have Bill’s hand wrapped around his cock, he felt a keen pair of eyes on him. He opened his own eyes and saw that Bill was watching him.
Bill smiled at Harry and reached over to touch his shoulder. Harry’s skin was warm and flushed from sleep. His eyes were barely open, just a speck of green under long black lashes. His cheeks were pink, with small imprints from the pillowcase. His lips were red and still swollen with kisses. Bill was speechless.
Eventually, he found his voice and managed to say, “’Morning.”
Harry blinked a few times, trying to make his eyesight adjust without his glasses. It was no use. Though he was nearly blind without his glasses, he knew the blurry form next to him was Bill. Bill, in his bed, with barely a sheet between them.
“’Morning,” Harry murmured, trying to sound as casual as Bill had. He hoped the way his lips curled into an undeniable smile wouldn’t give him away.
Bill sat up on his elbows, sliding out from the sheet. “Are you hungry? I can make breakfast. What do you want?” He ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.
Harry would’ve been happy with burnt toast and runny eggs.
“Doesn’t matter. Anything’s fine,” he said, all too aware of the way Bill’s hips and thighs were exposed by the shifting of the covers, and how his cock, long though soft, lay immodestly between his legs. Harry tried to look away, but it was useless, and in the end he just closed his eyes again.
Bill rose from the bed. “I’ll call you when it’s ready,” he said.
Harry lifted an eyelid and was awarded with a full view of Bill’s backside as he walked away. Bill was one of the most beautiful men Harry had ever seen. Bill’s hair, messy from sleep and tangled with dried sweat, hung in limp curls around his shoulders. The muscles in those shoulders bulged and rippled down his back then narrowed to his waist, then curved out again at his toned arse.
Yes, Bill was beautiful, and Harry knew he wasn’t the only one who noticed him. Anybody would want to be with Bill, and Harry had been with Bill. Bill had touched him and kissed him and fucked him…God, had Bill fucked him. Harry had never felt anything so incredible in his life. But the night was over, and reality was settling in with the yellow rays of the morning sun.
What happened now? Harry didn’t know. Maybe last night had been Bill’s method of comforting him. Maybe it was a simple, friendly convenience. Maybe Bill had been lonely and Harry had been willing. Harry was sure that was the case. After all, he’d kissed Bill before and Bill hadn’t responded to it, didn’t even bring it up the next day. There had been no post-sex cuddling or good morning kisses. Not that Harry had any experience in that sort of thing. But he’d heard girls at school talking about it, and it always happened that way in the Muggle movies Aunt Petunia watched when no one was around. Instead, Bill merely patted Harry on the shoulder and asked if he was hungry.
Harry wasn’t in love with Bill. He didn’t even know Bill that well. But he hoped that what happened between them the night before meant something, even a little something, to Bill. It didn’t have to last forever. Harry was only seventeen, and he knew, or hoped, that he’d have other lovers, experiment a bit before he settled down. But he wanted to be more than just another one of Bill’s conquests, more than just a kid with a rather convenient crush. A little stability and security wasn’t a bad thing.
Breakfast could be promising, though, Harry told himself. He’d heard of breakfast in bed. Maybe Bill would saunter in, balancing a tray of food and a vase with a red flower in it. They could eat and talk, and afterwards, there would be more touching and more kissing and, Harry hoped, more fucking. It always happened that way in the movies.
Bill, wrapped in a loose towel, stuck his head in the room and grinned. “Food’s on the table, if you want it.”
Okay, maybe breakfast wasn’t so promising after all.
****
Bill slept in his own bed that night. For the first three hours. After that, he gave up the pretense of sleep. He couldn’t keep Harry out of his head, and his erection came back, even after a successful wank. With the excuse of making sure Harry wasn’t having another nightmare, he crept into Harry’s bedroom. Harry’s eyes shone in the dim light from the moon, and Bill knew Harry couldn’t sleep, either. Neither of them spoke, but when Bill knelt in the floor next to Harry’s bed and leaned in to kiss him, one touch led to another, and gratefully, Bill found himself fucking Harry with his tongue, then with his fingers, and then with his cock.
The following night, Bill managed to stay in his own bed for two hours. The next night, it was only an hour, and the night after that, he didn’t even bother. When Harry went to bed, Bill followed. With eager hands, they tore at each other’s clothes and then Harry crawled on the bed and spread his legs in invitation. They didn’t talk about what was happening, they just let it happen. Between all the gasping and moaning, they were too out of breath and too tired to bother with talking.
It kept happening, night after night. Never in Bill’s bed, but always in Harry’s. Harry didn’t care so much about the messy sheets; he was more concerned with the potential mess of emotional hurt. He still wasn’t in love with Bill, but he could feel the beginnings of something similar to it. He honestly didn’t expect anything from Bill, and he wanted Bill to know that, but Harry would be leaving for Hogwarts in just a couple of weeks. He needed to know if Bill would forget about this summer, forget about him.
After a week of internal debate and confusion over his feelings, Harry decided to approach Bill about it. He waited until after the sex, of course. No sense in rushing into things.
“Can I talk you about something?” Harry asked. He stared up at the ceiling. It was easier than looking at Bill.
Bill turned over on his side to face Harry. “Sure,” he said in a deep voice.
“This,” Harry glanced nervously at Bill, “that’s been going on…between us, you know, well…I just…it just makes me wonder sometimes.”
The talk. Bill knew it was coming. Now he was going to have to try to make sense of it all when he didn’t fully understand it himself. He decided to let Harry lead. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, feeling more courageous than he’d expected. “I mean, is it just…you know…or is it…something else.” He looked over at Bill with searching eyes.
Those eyes never failed to take Bill’s breath away. “You scare me sometimes, Harry,” he said in almost a whisper. “I shouldn’t want you the way I do.”
Harry didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. He turned on his side to face Bill. “Why do you say that?”
“Because…well,” it was Bill’s turn to stutter, “I’m…I’m supposed to be taking care of you. Mum would hex my dick off if she knew what I’d been doing to you.” Harry chuckled and Bill had to laugh, too.
“We just won’t tell her,” Harry said with a grin.
Bill turned serious again. “It’s not just Mum, though.” He thought for a moment. “I’m 30, and you’re…?”
“Seventeen. Same as Ron.”
“Ron. Right. How do you think he’s going to take this?”
Harry shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Before, Bill would’ve been surprised at the surety in Harry’s answer. Now, it was as familiar as Harry’s dark hair on the pillow next to him.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Bill said, and he took Harry’s leg and wrapped it around his waist.
While Bill’s growing erection pressed against his stomach was quite the distraction, Harry wasn’t done with the conversation. He needed to know. “So…will you forget about me when I go back to school?”
Bill chuckled and nuzzled Harry’s neck. “Harry, I could never forget about you.”
****
“Today you’re going to learn to Apparate,” Bill announced.
Harry was standing around in the kitchen one morning, watching as Bill searched for a saucepan. He still hadn’t brought Harry breakfast in bed, but he’d shown Harry his feelings in other ways, and as long as Harry was with Bill, he didn’t care where, or what, he ate.
Harry looked at Bill quizzically. “But I already know how to Apparate.”
“Not properly, you don’t. I’m going to teach you. The area around the temple is still full of Repelling spells. Paul and Luke are sealing up the wall where the bark was taken out. It’ll be the perfect place. Now, help me find that bloody saucepan, will you?”
****
The saucepan remained elusive, so in the end, they opted for cold cereal. After a thankfully uneventful cab ride and a surprisingly smooth camel ride, Harry and Bill arrived at the temple. It was a Sunday, so no one was working and they had the place to themselves. Bill suggested that they practice outside. He hadn’t forgotten Harry’s aptitude for causing disasters inside.
Bill knew that learning to Apparate was dangerous, and he wouldn’t have tried to teach Harry if Harry hadn’t done it before. He would use short distances, too, to make it less difficult. Although it wasn’t supposed to be done without a license, Bill knew that Dumbledore had a lot of influence over the Ministry and could get them out of any trouble. He wasn’t worried.
Bill put his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him. “Don’t be nervous. You’ve done it before. Just relax.”
Despite Bill’s encouragement, Harry was still nervous. He trusted Bill, but Dumbledore was a much more powerful wizard, and Harry would’ve felt a little better if he’d been around to supervise.
“I’ve been through this with five brothers,” said Bill, seeming to read Harry’s thoughts. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“But what if I splinch-”
“You won’t,” Bill interrupted. “Remember what Dumbledore taught you?” Harry nodded. “Okay, now try it.”
Bill walked a few feet ahead and Harry closed his eyes. He tried to concentrate on getting to Bill, concentrate on opening his eyes and seeing Bill right in front of him, close enough to touch. But nothing happened. Harry didn’t feel anything, no movement at all, and he knew he hadn’t succeeded. He tried again, thinking about Bill and how badly he wanted to get to him. He clenched his fists tightly at his side and wrinkled his nose in concentration, but still, nothing happened. After a few minutes, Bill walked over to him.
“Concentrate. You’re not concentrating,” Bill whispered in Harry’s ear.
Harry opened his eyes. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re pressing up against me,” said Harry, without a trace of irritation.
Bill chuckled and took a step back. “Sorry.”
“I wasn’t complaining, you know.”
“I should hope not,” Bill said with a smirk. He walked a few more feet away. “Okay, try it again.”
Harry tried again. He closed his eyes and tried picturing Bill, how it felt to be close to him, and how it felt to have Bill’s arms around him. But nothing happened and Harry was starting to feel like this whole idea was a waste of time. He opened his eyes and shook his head.
“Don’t concentrate on me, concentrate on Apparating to me,” Bill instructed.
“Easy for you to say,” said Harry. “You’re not looking at yourself. You know you’re gorgeous, don’t you?”
Bill waved Harry’s comment off modestly. “Nonsense. Now, think, Harry. You can do it.”
Harry tried again. He closed his eyes. This time, he focused on moving, focused on being in one place and appearing in another. He tried not to think about Bill, just about getting to where Bill was. He held his eyes shut tightly, concentrating. Move, he said to himself. Move. Move. Suddenly, Harry felt the air around him start to stir. He felt it rustle his hair and he heard it roar in his ears. In a second, it was gone. When he opened his eyes, Bill was right in front of him.
Harry felt like squealing and jumping up and down until he remembered that he was much too mature for that sort of thing. Bill grabbed Harry and hugged him.
“That was great, Harry, just great.” Bill kissed him. “Okay, now go again.”
****
Days passed, and Harry dreaded every one of them. He knew he’d have to leave for Hogwarts soon. He hadn’t even bothered to pack. His clothes were strewn about the room, though that was mostly Bill’s fault, and his books had collected dust were they’d been forgotten on the desk. That was Bill’s fault, too. Some days, Bill fucked Harry until Harry wasn’t sure if he could walk, and that left very little time for studying. Bill had even gone on temporary work leave, telling his boss that he was desperately needed at home and he just couldn’t break away.
It was more than sex, though. Harry knew it, and Bill knew it, too. Now, Bill always held Harry afterwards, and Harry decided that cuddling was almost as good as sex. Almost. Bill’s strong arms made Harry feel secure and protected, a feeling that Harry was becoming addicted to, much like he’d become addicted to Bill’s kisses.
Harry’s nightmares had disappeared completely. They’d stopped the night Bill came into his room and kissed him. Voldemort couldn’t touch him with Bill around. At Hogwarts, Harry would be sleeping alone, with no one to stop the nightmares and no one to hold him when he woke up screaming.
****
August thirty-first came sharp and sudden, with lots of sun and not a single sign of rain.
Bill ran a lazy hand through Harry’s messy hair. “Wake up. We’ll have to be leaving soon.”
Harry snuggled closer. “I don’t want to go,” he pouted, becoming the child that most people thought he was.
“You’ll miss the train, and then what?” asked Bill. “It’s your last year at Hogwarts. You don’t want to miss that.”
Harry draped a skinny leg over Bill’s thigh and hid his face in Bill’s neck, breathing in the scent of sleep and sex on his hair. “Just a bit longer,” he said sleepily.
“Harry, really, I think…” But then Harry started rubbing against Bill’s hip, and Bill decided that another thirty minutes in bed wouldn’t hurt.
****
“Bill,” Harry begged, pulling away so that he could look Bill in the eyes, “I don’t want to go. Let me stay with you, please. I don’t want to back.”
The whistle on the Hogwarts Express sounded. Except for a few parents, the platform was deserted. All of the students, with their trunks and animals, were on board and settled into their compartments. The train would be leaving soon, but Bill didn’t want to let Harry go.
He pulled Harry close and held him tight. “You know you’ve got to go. They won’t let you stay with me.” He gripped Harry’s dark hair between his fingers. He wanted to hold on to Harry for another ten months, when Harry’s last year at Hogwarts would be over with and he’d be free to go back to Egypt and live with Bill.
The train whistle sounded again. Bill kissed Harry, crushing his lips and drinking him in. Then he let go and backed away.
“Bill…” Harry started.
“Don’t,” Bill said. “Don’t. Just go.”
“But I-”
“Don’t, Harry,” Bill repeated. “Remember, owls every day.”
“Every day,” Harry promised.
“Now go. You’ll miss the train.”
Harry ran to the train and took the steps two at a time. He didn’t look back, he couldn’t. He knew if he did, he’d run back to Bill, forgetting the train, Hogwarts, his friends, and all the other significant parts of his life that suddenly seemed so unimportant.
Harry found Ron in a compartment at the very back and took a seat opposite him.
“’Bout time,” Ron said. “I thought the train would leave without you.”
the end