His Gift

Disclaimer: You really think Rowling would write something like this? Anyways, I wrote this eons ago back when I was only so-so with Fleur. Things have changed since then. But yeah, the point is I\'m not making any money on this and I don\'t want to be sued. kthnxbye

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“Oh, Monsieur Bill…”

The soft moans of the half veela beneath him were cut off as Bill Weasley dipped his head so that his lips met Fleur’s. He gently devoured them, bringing her lower lip into his mouth as his tongue played along the soft curves there, drawing another cry from the girl as he drew her lip in further before pulling back. Lips hovering a mere centimeter above hers, Bill looked down at her. He’d seen her a year earlier at Hogwarts while visiting Harry and Ron with his mum, and known right away the sort of girl she was. Just the way she’d held herself had been enough to let him know. After all, Bill had seen plenty of those sorts of women in his time, and they were all the same. They were the uchabchable beauties that all the boys lusted and longed for, and they knew it. The sort that liked to tempt and tease without giving so much as a glance to her admirers. The sort that thought they were better than all those who wanted them, simply because they were visionary perfection…

The sort that somehow always ended up in my bed. It’s almost boring how predictable these sorts are… Of course, technically this time it’s not my bed.

Bill had been sitting in his office chair writing up a report for his last raid back in Egypt when Fleur swept her way into his office. She’d acted as coy as usual at first, so Bill had acted the same way he usually did: he continued with his work while only half paying attention to her. Of course that only infuriated her further; she probably wasn’t used to her charms being resisted. But in order to bed an irresistible woman, one must at first resist. He’d tried to give Ron that advice when he’d visited, hoping that he would be the one to sleep with her (as clearly it needed to be done), but as usual the rest of his brothers lacked the finesse and charm needed for this sort of delicate operation. In the end, Fleur had broken down in just thirty minutes and finally demanded why Bill didn’t want to sleep with her. His response had not been verbal, as in such cases ons ons spoke louder than words. And now, here they were, Fleur pinned down in his office chair pushed back against the wall while he leaned over her, one hand on either armrest.

Nimble fingers familiar with their work danced down the front of her white blouse, freeing each button until the pale skin beneath the soft fabric was revealed. Bill found he barely even needed to think about what it was he was doing, so used to this routine was he. His mind wandered as his hands moved over the curves of the younger girl’s form.

Younger indeed… the girl was nearly ten years younger than he was. Most of the women he slept with these days were younger. He was nearing thirty, after all. Of course, he would refuse to sink into old age (well, just old-er, really) without some sort of fight. Some fought by changing careers, some by purchasing expensive new brooms or flashy robes… he fought by seducing as many young women as possible, it seemed. Indeed, this was the third one this month, and it was only the eighteenth of June.

But that’s not why you’re doing this, is it Bill? After all, you started out with older women…

The whisper of French silk against skin filled the silence of the room – silent thanks to a quickly cast silence charm – as the blouse was removed entirely. It slipped to the floor, unattended in the dust, as smaller fingers sought out his own dragon hide vest to push it back off his shoulders. Bill shrugged it off, watching Fleur’s facial expressions. He loved to watch their faces. There was simply nothing in the world as beautiful as a woman’s face in the hef paf passion, any woman at all, and he wasn’t about to miss a moment of it. This one reminded him terribly of that first girl he’d slept with. His mind trailed away once again, recalling the memory.

She was a seventh year in Hufflepuff. He was a fourth year in Gryffindor. She’d been impressed with his natural talent for Arithmancy. He’d taken her out for a walk to discuss it. Before he’d known what he’d done, the two were laying in a sweaty tangle of clothing on tuidduidditch pitch, staring up at the late spring sky. It had been beautiful and unexpected and he was immediately in love. Not with the girl; no, he couldn’t even recall her name today. It was the act itself. Making that shy, awkward girl move like that and make those sounds – it was exhilarating. It was because of him that she’d felt so good. He made her feel those things, and he didn’t need magic to do it.

Being the sort of laid-back, carefree guy he was, Bill had always naturawantwanted to make those around him enjoy life as much as he did. To him, everyone worried about thing too much. The best he could do was cheer his friends and family up whenever possible. At home, he was always teasing his mum, exchanging jokes with his father, or just goofing off with all his siblings. Percy especially resisted his attempts to make him laugh, while the twins were constantly outdoing him at his own games. Charlie took best to his games; the two had always been close and…

Bill lifted Fleur’s hips, removing the simple dark blue skirt with a quick but gentle tug. His train of thought froze suddenly as it occurred to him that he was thinking about his family while preparing to have sex with this girl. That wasn’t right. Not right at all. Deciding it best to go back to focusing on tasktask at hand, Bill slipped down to his knees between Fleur’s legs, still keeping eye contact as best he could. For her part, the girl’s eyes had been closedoughough most of the past few minutes, but at the sound of movement they fluttered slowly open and then widened at the site of him looking up her body. She gasped, uttering a small exclamation of pleasured surprise just as Bill hooked one long slender finger in either side of her panties, tugging them down.

After removing that last barrier, he leaned forward once again, a hand on each pale thigh to either side of his head. He allowed himself to sink into the heat awaiting him there as his tongue delved deeper. Through the years he’d developed a rather effective pattern of movements consisting of swirling, flicking, and then sucking that seemed to do the most… damage. As he started in on this tradition, he mused silently to himself that he should really copyright his little trick, maybe get the technique named after him. Now there was the right way to go down in the history books – inventing a new sexual technique.

Guiding Fleur’s legs to rest on his shoulders, Bill moaned against the flesh currently held between his lips, sending pleasant vibrations coursing through it until his own moan was echoed by a lighter one from above. The legs on either side of his head tensed, pressing against him. He didn’t mind. They were so delightfully soft. He loved that about women: how soft, smooth, and curved they could be. He could never find a woman with a curve he didn’t like. They were all so beautiful. It was like their bodies were formed by flowing water. Not a single sharp angle or corner to them. Not like men. Charlie, for instance, was much more chiseled and hard, especially after working so many years with dragons in Romania. When water ran down his back, it was never a smooth path. It…

No, on second thought, Charlie wasn’t the best example. After all, Bill had never… not with his brother, at least.

Bill had slept with men. His first experience hadn’t been until he’d been in Egypt for a year. One night, after celebrating in his camp for breaking the final magical seal on a tomb, he’d been led half-drunkenly into one of the tents he’d set up for the two girls he’d allowed to accompany him. He’d written them off as guides to the bank, though truly they were just there for more leisurely activities. The girls insisted that his assistant, a younger wizard from the area by the name of Sebak, join them and somehow the two had ended up with each other while the girls sat to the side and giggled. Though the both of them were embarrassed the next morning, Bill had hardly regretted the experience. The following evening the two met once again, though this time sober and without the girls. Unfortunately, he rarely found another man around London so open minded as to spend the night with him. It was really a shame. Women were wonderful, but sex with another man had so many different sensations that simply couldn’t be felt otherwise. In his opinion, the afterglow was more intense. Sebak had always been so absorbed in his , ne, never letting himself go long enough to truly enjoy himself. It was good to see him spread across the lush pillows in the tent, staring quietly at the ceiling in utter bliss. It was too bad he couldn’t give Charlie the same lesson; that boy was just too involved with his work.

Wait, what?

Fleur’s legs tightened around Bill’s head one last time before her entire body went limp. Extracting himself from her thighs, Bill tried to mask the sudden confusion linked to his last thought. How had that popped in there? He was having sex with a girl, not looking through an old family album. How could he possibly keep coming back to those sort of thoughts? It was his family! It just didn’t make any sense…

Still struggling with his thoughts, Bill pulled off the tight t-shirt he usually wore, kicking off his boots as he did. His dragon hide trousers were next, requiring a bit of shimmying on his part to free his legs from the tight material, followed closely by his pants. Soon enough he was as nude as his partner, whom he scooped up into his armed and carried over to his desk. With a sweep of his arm he cleared the area of parchments, sitting Fleur so that he legs dangled over the edge.

Bill had made sure when requesting an office at the London branch that the height of his desk was correct for these sort of matters. He’d told Gringotts of course that it was because the height difference between goblins and humans was so large. Now he found it a simple enough task to step forward until he pressed against Fleur in all the right places. She was still breathing heavily from her climax, but she managed to wrap her legs about his waist while reaching back with one hand to free his hair from his ponytail. Long, flaming red strands fell over his shoulders, standing in stark contrast to the nearly white blond hair or Fleur.

Ok, Bill. Focus. Can’t be losin’ it now.

With one fluid motion Bill slipped inside of Fleur to the hilt. He’d wondered before if the girl was a virgin, but evidently she was not. He met little resistance as he slowly pulled back before thrusting forward again. Her small hands grasped hold of his shoulders, clinging to him as he moved in and out of her. Her airy moans now tickled his ear, shifting his hair with each sound. Bill found his rhythm; being sure to give his hips and extra twist each time he thrust in to press against Fleur’s more sensitive parts. This was good. This was right. This was what Bill did. He made others happy. That was what was important in the end: enjoying life. Some people died without ever managing that small a feat, struggling all their lives for fame or money without ever exploring what they could have with just the bare essentials. What he was giving to this girl right now didn’t require any money or years of schooling, just their bodies devoid of everything else. Happiness couldso sso simple sometimes. Why couldn’t everyone else in the world just see that? Rich, poor, Bill could make anyoappyappy this way. As happy as everyone deserved to be.

Why couldn’t he make his family this happy?

Bill’s thoughts grew less and less connected, not because of his surprise at his last thought, but because of the approach of his own climax. His thoughts came through now like a poorly-tuned muggle radio, with small bursts of rational amidst static of pure sensation. His gift... His gift in life… What he did best... What he shared with the world... What he couldn’t give to those he loved most... Wanted to… Make them happy… Wanted to… So bad…

Just as Fleur’s high cry of release met his ears, the coil that had been closing in on itself in his chest reached its limit. With a sudden release of tension, Bill climaxed, thrusting one last time into Fleur as she clung helplessly to him. There were no thoughts at this moment, just pleasure. It washed over him, over thoth,oth, leaving them sweaty and gasping for air. Ever so gently, Bill managed to guide Fleur to lie down upon his large desk. He leaned over her, kept up for a moment longer upon his arms before he melted down on top of her slender body, his head pillowed between her breasts. He listened silently to her heartbeat as it slowly returned to its normal pace. Opening the top drawer of his desk with one hand, Bill found his want. With one quick flick and a mutter of “impendo conceptio” he made sure that there would be nothing left behind from their actions other than the afterglow itself. Tilting his head, he looked up to see her smiling down at him. She looked so completely peaceful. There wasn’t a trace of the hau arr arrogance that had once tainted her lovely features. She wasn’t trying anymore to seem so perfect and alluring every single moment. This was her, stripped of all her useless trappings, laid out beneath him and completely content.

“Monsieur Bill… you… definitely had a talent for zis sort of thing… a gift…”

Bill smiled back up at her, hoping the sudden pang of sadness in his heart didn’t show on his face.

A gift, right… Charlie has a gift with dragons, Percy has a gift for the academic, Fred and George have a gift for laughter, and even Ron and Ginny have a certain gift for their loyalty, innocence, and strong character. My gift… I could never really share it with any of them. Ever.