Tell Me Tonight
I'll settle for a cup of coffee, but you know what I really need
Leave me to lay, but touch me deep
I don't sleep I dream
"I Don't Sleep I Dream" - REM
Charlie arrives on his doorstep a few days after Michaelmas, his longish hair dirty and disheveled, his clothes in much the same condition.
Oliver isn't expecting the visit, but he invites Charlie in all the same. He doesn't get many visitors at his cottage in Puddlemere these days, not that he really ever did. For all that he was a social creature while at Hogwarts, his life outside of school became something of a self-imposed exile. Oliver realized a long time past that his school friends were right: one could be too obsessed with Quidditch.
The two men settle at the kitchen table and drink Oliver's strong coffee long into the night, talking all the while. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Charlie stills and fixes his gaze upon Oliver. The younger man feels a turning deep in his belly and waits for Charlie to speak; whatever is to come is no doubt important.
Charlie bluntly inquires as to Oliver's loyalties. It is an answer that Oliver considers for a moment before giving. He is by no means a supporter of You-Know-Who, but up until now, Oliver's felt blissfully isolated from the war raging through his world. Puddlemere has been a haven for him, but now he must face reality. He tells Charlie that he stands with the Order -- the conviction with which the statement is made was absent from Oliver's heart before this very moment, but it is now it is solid and immovable.
As Charlie smiles, Oliver realizes he hasn't felt this good, this whole in years. The warmth radiating off of Charlie doesn't hurt either.
When Charlie leaves that night, Oliver watches him go and knows that he's half in love with the former Seeker.
Charlie visits quite often after that. They always share a coffee before Charlie tells Oliver of the mission he's needed for. Good fliers are hard to find, Charlie tells him, and Oliver believes it. Besides, he's happy to do his part and with the moratorium on Quidditch in England, he's had a lot of free time. It's better than polishing broomsticks he says. The joke makes Charlie laugh, the skin by his eyes crinkling. It's the most wonderful sight Oliver's ever seen.
Oliver returns from a particularly hard reconnaissance mission to find Charlie sitting in the living room before a roaring fire. Charlie looks up at the sound of Oliver's arrival.
"We thought you had been lost."
Oliver smiles grimly. "No such luck."
Charlie's body visibly sags with relief.
"I have the information we needed." Oliver sets aside his broom and midnight cloak and moves toward Charlie and the much-welcomed fire. "It should prove quite useful to the Order, one way or another."
It's then that Charlie moves. Oliver's crouching by the fire and suddenly Charlie is beside him, in front of him, touching his face, tears stream down his own. "I thought --"
"You thought what? Charlie?" Oliver can't help being flustered. As much as he might have dreamed that this, whatever this is, might one day happen...
His train of thought is broken the instant Charlie leans across those few precious inches and touches Oliver's lips with his own. Oliver is off balance in an instant and clings to Charlie's shoulders to stay upright. It's as if his whole body is awakening for the first time. It feels glorious and Oliver has to smile.
Charlie pulls back to look at Oliver. "What is it?" He tries to remain serious, but Oliver can see the grin threatening to peak out.
"Nothing, Charlie. Just you."