Dances With Twinks

Charlie Weasley sat wearily outside the dragon enclosure, lightly fingering the shiny new burn etched into his upper arm. Damn Shortsnout, he thought angrily, hating the fact that he had to be back in Britain and worst of all back at Hogwarts, merely to play baby-sitter for a bunch of overly-hormonal female dragons.

He looked up at the castle, silhouetted against the purplish-pink hue of the setting sun and felt a surge of anger rise up inside of him. He had spent seven angry years in that hell-hole, trying to figure out the confusing feelings that were growing inside of him. When he finally had discovered the truth about himself, that he was a flaming homosexual and proud of it, every opportunity to act on his red-hot faggot desires had been shot down repeatedly. It seemed that young Charlie could never sink his meat into any willing subject without being caught- by his older brother the head boy, by prefects, and once by Professor Trelawney. His sexual energy had been pent up, and had made him a very repressed young man.

But now Charlie was in a better place; Romania afforded him plenty of willing gypsy twinks to exercise his homo-erotic fantasies on and the other dragon-tenders were open minded and adventurous with him. There was nothing he liked better than to have a forbidden gay-sex tryst in the back of a Chinese Fireball’s pen as its fiery breath caressed both his and his lover’s aching loins.

There was fat chance of any illicit sexual encounters taking place on this business trip, however. Charlie had taken a quick run-through of the castle before his evening shift with the dragon bitches and found there was not even one paltry glory-hole in even the most derelict of boy’s lavatories. To make matters worse, his brother Ron was in a foul mood, meaning there was no chance he would introduce his older sibling to any of his willing effeminate school chums.

Charlie had just resigned himself to an evening of pocket-pool when he heard the crunch of footsteps in the dark. A wave of panic swept over him when he realized they might belong to the gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid had been repeatedly propositioning Charlie throughout the day- he was willing to trade NSA sex for a chance to frolic in the dragon enclosure. Though Charlie was cock-hungry, he wasn’t willing to have his rectum pierced by the half-giant’s enormous wang. Many wizards had perished after a bout of rough sex with such creatures and Charlie wasn’t interested in taking that chance. Although Hagrid could probably suck dick with the best of them, Charlie knew that the half-man-half-giant would probably be inebriated, and thus much more likely to bite off his aching tool in the heat of the moment.

The footsteps however, were far too light to be that of Hagrid, which meant they were probably a student. Pulling out his wand he carefully made his way forward into the thick patch of brambles where the sound had come from, trying not to prance like the lady-man he knew in his heart he was. Pulling back the curtain of hanging plants he revealed a crouched young man, trying valiantly to hide under his school-issue cloak.

They both stared at each other for five full seconds- the sexual tension between them was palpable, Charlie noted, despite the fact that he knew nothing about this mysterious student. The roar of the Hungarian Horntail broke them out of their reverie, and a thrill of horror raced through Charlie’s heart. The boy had seen the dragons! Charlie would be fired for certain- the entire point of his guarding the beasts was to ensure that they remained unseen. His dismissal from the dragon tending job would send him on a downward spiral of gay club drugs and senseless one night stands, a prospect that seemed enticing until he thought of himself as a run-down thirty-year old flamer sucking cocks for speed in the back of a Knock-Turn Alley pub.

Quickly pushing the idea out his mind he realized that he had the upper hand. Here was a student, out past curfew, snooping around an area that was definitely out-of-bounds. Working to keep a hysterical smile from ruining his pretense of anger, Charlie leaned down and grabbed the young man’s lapels with two angry fists.

“What do we have here?” he hissed into the boy’s face, noting that the badge on his robes identified him as a Hufflepuff. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in now? This area is off-limits to non-authorized personnel, especially students. I have half a mind to march you into Dumbledore’s office right this moment.”

The young man went completely white, his breath coming in shallow wheezes. Charlie worked to keep his raging erection from poking out of his robes and taking control of the situation.

“What’s your name, kid?” Charlie sneered. When he didn’t receive an answer he shook the boy vigorously, noting the ease at which he was able to control him.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley, fourth-year,” stuttered the Hufflepuff, clearly attempting to hold back tears.

“Well, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, if I were you, I wouldn’t say a word to anyone about what you’ve seen tonight. I would also be in the fifth-floor men’s room at quarter to midnight tonight, unless I wanted to find out what real trouble was,” Charlie said, pushing the pale-faced Finch-Fletchley into the brambles with the sort of careless treatment usually reserved for truck-stop whores.

Charlie turned his back quickly to hide his glee as well as his throbbing meat. As he listened to the panicked footfalls of the soon-to-be violated Hufflepuff, he finally felt excited to be here.