Just Walk In & The Job Is Yours [HP Fanfiction. George Weasley/Dudley Dursley]

Just Walk In & The Job Is Yours--Part 1

Hi!! Please enjoy! This is crossposted on AO3! Lastly: please do not steal.

There is some sexual content in this chapter.

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George Weasley shouldn't have followed that man into The Rusty Knob's alleyway. He was drunker than he should've been and sadder than he'd previously thought he could ever be. When they had caught each other's eye across the room he'd known what it had meant; how could he not? The man was nothing George had, in the past, ever looked for in a partner. He'd had the look of someone with no business being there, who was only stopping off on his way off the boat. But he'd had a certain look in his eye that said: "you are worth absolutely nothing to me."

And George just couldn't help himself. He'd slid himself off of the stool and followed the older stranger to the familiar door. He walked across the stones. Shame burnt a path through him; his cheeks couldn't get any hotter than they were just then. The door had groaned shut behind them. The man had stopped, turned toward George, and placed a hand on the top of his head.

"Solnyshko, you look like my brother, " the man's voice was low, and something unidentifiable started to churn in George's stomach. Hah, and he'd thought he couldn't fall any further. "Except for ear."

"Let's get to it, mate," George responded, as he dropped to his knees. The cold dampness bled through the thin denim of his jeans. The man's belt buckle was, to his surprise, well-kempt, shiny and obviously valued, especially in comparison to the rest of his ensemble.

But it came loose as easy as any other, looser than morals, looser than George's self-esteem, crumbling at the foundation. It was too dark to see, so George let his mouth fall open, slack and pliable and surely a sight to see, if one indeed could see, as he searched for the man in the dark. He knew he had found what he was looking for when he tasted warmth, wet and briny as the open sea. He closed his lips around the tip, as he drew it back into his mouth. By the time George got to the base the man was fully hard, too wired to care whose mouth it was that got him off. The saltiness intensified, the man started to thrust deep into George's mouth, he had to take it all. He gagged. The man's dick pressed against his palate, the roof of his mouth tacky.

It blocked his air, and there were tears in his eyes, but those were genuine tears in his eyes, for the first time in months. All the while, that man thrusted away, with a grunt now and then, as he used George as if he was less than human, less than filth. The man, the stranger, seemed to be having a grand ol' time. When the man came, George didn't want to swallow. So he slapped the man's thighs until he moved away, then spit onto the greasy cobblestone of the alley, as he thanked the lord he could finally breathe again.

George's knees were screaming in vengeful protest. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and he was going to pay for it. George pulled himself to hands and knees and creaked up to his feet. The man grabbed onto his forearms, helped him to steady himself. George sighed and leaned against the wall, then closed his eyes.

A warm, wet pressure lingered on his forehead, truly a shock to his system. It was the first act of affection he'd felt in months and the thought brought tears to his eyes for the second time that night.

"—the fuck!"

"I will return favor, yes?" The man smiled and began to unbutton George's corduroys.

George's hands flew up to stop him, "No, man," he tried to grin, "but you can lend me a cig." He eyed the man's pockets. "I noticed you were especially happy to see me."

The man paused, raised his eyebrows, then removed his hands from George's trousers to take out his pack and lighter. "All right."

George leant forward, looking up at the man, to take the cigarette in his mouth. Their eyes met once more. The click of the lighter seemed so loud in that alley. Once it was lit, George took a drag and exhaled into the night air. He thought all that fresh air might have been killing him.

"Thanks, mate," was all he said. "I think I'm gonna get another drink."

George saluted and headed back indoors.

TO BE CONTINUED...