Of Company and Payment in Kind
It was evening. The shadows fell long across the kitchen floor and Sirius nursed his firewhisky, wishing for a full house again. It was lonely, living somewhere that wasn't supposed to be a prison and yet felt like one. He missed the bustle of the Summer.
As if answering his prayers, the fire turned green. Charlie Weasley spun into view.
Sirius half-stood but Charlie waved him down and brushed away the soot. "Everything is fine," he reassured Sirius. "Nothing has happened."
The gripping panic knotted in Sirius's chest loosened and he knocked back what remained of his firewhisky. "Want one?"
Charlie shook his head. "I'm here to ask a favour," he hedged. He examined the cleanliness of his dragon-hide boots and, apparently satisfied, strode out of the grate. He flopped into a chair with a deep sigh.
Sirius let the silence percolate for a moment in case Charlie had, indeed, come for a favour. When the moment stretched out, taut and almost tangible, he cleared his throat. "We are alone," he said softly.
Charlie's face registered utter desolation and he buried it in his hands, his shoulders suddenly heaving with sobs. Sirius was unsurprised, albeit alarmed at the apparent strength of feeling Charlie was showing.
"Hey, now," he murmured, shuffling closer and gripping the exposed, scarred forearms. "What's happened, hm?"
Charlie's harsh sobs petered out until his forehead rested on Sirius's still-prominent sternum. "Sorry," he breathed.
"Don't apologise," Sirius said mildly, running a hand over Charlie's overlong hair and smiling at the presence of the phoenix-stamped dragon-hide thong he'd bought the redhead, tying it nearly back. "Tell me."
"One of the mothers trampled her whole nest in distress because I was trying to recruit a colleague and the atmosphere was getting a bit… prickly." Charlie sighed and sat back. "She lost her eggs last year to the Triwizard Tournament, and now she's grieving again because I can't pick a proper time and place. I'm trying to do my bit for the war, but I'm also a dragon keeper. I just don't want to do both. He said no, anyway. I'm a rubbish recruiter." He stopped and bit his lip. "I tried so hard."
"I'm sorry about the eggs. Maybe she could be a foster, if you find you need one?"
Charlie jerked his chin. "Maybe," he sighed. He rested his forehead against Sirius's. "Thank you for the gloves. They fit beautifully. Winters can be bitter in Romania." He hesitated. "What… what do you want in return?"
"This was never about sex," Sirius reminded him. "I'm lonely, Charlie. I spent twelve years on my own, and now I've escaped imprisonment, I'm still on my own. I miss people. I miss being able to walk on crowded streets, drink in bars. You give me company, and you understand."
"In a way, I do," Charlie agreed. "I can do all those things, but I don't feel part of it, somehow. The whole world seems to connect sexually and I don't want to."
Sirius barked a laugh. "Twelve years of enforced celibacy and it loses its power," he admitted. "Come with me. I have something for you, and… well, I'm tired, and you look like you haven't slept in a week. Just… hold me?"
"That's exactly what I need."
"I think we both do."