Greg slammed the flat's door closed, grateful that he'd sent Luthien to Stone Walk for the night. Keeping his facade up all evening long had drained him mentally when he couldn't afford such a thing. He just couldn't bring himself to drop his problems in Maeve's lap. What he needed, he decided as he yanked off his shirt and kicked his shoes off, was a bottle of Grey Goose...and some company. With a small smile he whistled for Huginn. Fred would either show up or not. Either way, Greg would be getting utterly and completely pissed. After sending Huginn off with the note, he laid out on the couch and amended the wards to allow Fred entrance. Only then did he crack open the bottle. He found the remote and flipped through until he found a CD that was loud, pounding, and downright angry. Godsmack was perfect for his current mood. As Moon Baby blasted from the speakers, he made his way back to change into something more comfortable than dressy trousers. He pulled them off, tossing them over the chaise, and replaced them with silk pyjama bottoms, then returned to the main room to wait and see if Fred would be joining him.

Curious about Greg's request for company and feeling like a few drinks wouldn't go amiss, Fred scratched a 'yes' on the back of the note and returned it to the glossy black raven. "Take that to your master, bird," he directed, scanning over the little card of directions that had been included, amused to note that he'd be allowed to bypass the flat's wards. He glanced around his flat and armed his own wards before Apparating to the location he'd been given, blinking at the sudden burst of sound as he reappeared with a comparatively inaudible 'pop' in Greg's sitting room. Hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he canted his head at his host, questions visible in his eyes.


Greg tipped the bottle in Fred's direction, having downed a bit while waiting. He saw the question in Fred's eyes but wasn't willing to go into it just yet. "Welcome to my humble home. Vodka? Me?"

Smirking before he could help it, Fred arched an eyebrow at the offer. "Both, preferably, though..." he eyed the bottle of vodka and lifted it from Greg's hand, taking a long swallow before setting it on the coffee table, figuring half the bottle was enough for Greg to start with. He sank to his knees beside the sofa, laying his hands at the edge of the cushion and waiting for Greg's reaction. He was fairly sure, between the quantity of alcohol already consumed and the music still causing the floorboards to thrum, that he knew what Greg needed from him, but he'd learned over time that patience had its place.

"Both would be excellent," Greg said huskily, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Fred's hair, "though you just took my bottle."

"It would have been in the way in a minute," Fred pointed out, his eyes wandering over Greg's bare chest. "Rough day, then?" he asked, exerting his willpower to keep his hands to himself, for the moment.

Greg sighed and tugged on Fred's hair. Leaning forward, he kissed the corner of Fred's mouth gently. He needed a bit of consoling just now. "Rough day...week...month...fuck it all it's been a bad five years."

Moving closer, Fred bent the few inches necessary to press his lips to Greg's, drawing back after a moment to allow for talking. Greg's words could have been his own; he didn't know the specifics yet, but imagined that it was true for both of them. "I'd drink to that but it would involve moving," Fred offered, not wanting to push too hard as Greg obviously needed to vent a bit.

Greg moved over, a clear invitation for Fred to sit if he wanted to. "I didn't think moving back would be so fucking hard. Maeve is dealing with enough and doesn't need to hear my shite, a man I thought of as a brother is an utter and complete wanker now, and I'm more Muggle than wizard these days. It's just shite."

Levering himself onto the chaise-like sofa, Fred stretched out on his stomach next to Greg, folding his arms over the chest that fascinated him so and laying his head on them, eyes still trained on Greg's face. "Sounds like it," Fred agreed, remembering weeks, months of those days on end. "I wasn't sure what you wanted when you owled, but I'm fair as either an ear or a distraction... up to you."

Greg tried to smile and failed. He settled for twirling a lock of Fred's hair around his finger before letting it fall. "You...just you."

"Right here," Fred reminded in a murmur, stretching up for a kiss, lips insistent on Greg's. Being a distraction came naturally to him; listening he'd had to practice, and he knew from experience what torture it was to try to talk to someone when the words weren't there. He licked lightly at Greg's lower lip, asking instead of demanding, feeling rather subdued himself after spending part of his day at the cemetery.

Greg kept the kiss light. They both needed gentle tonight and he was happy to oblige. He pulled back a little and whispered, "I'm a willing ear if you need it."

Shrugging as he laid a hand on Greg's chest, propping his chin on it, Fred allowed, "Spent the afternoon in the churchyard... Sundays are usually a bit like this." He knew he ought to stop torturing himself, but it was one area where he seemed to need routine, some sort of anchor to that place that really held only memories.

Greg sighed at the realization that maybe just maybe they could heal one another, if only a little bit. His method of dealing with the memories and the pain wasn't the best, but it did provide a nice numb feeling for a bit. "Well, I apparently get drunk when I go," he offered.

"It doesn't help," Fred said sagely, having learned as much from repeated experience. "Not that that stops me all the time, but it doesn't. You'd drink yourself to death before you could forget enough."

Greg wondered if he should mention that he'd actually tried that. Best not, he finally decided. Having Fred there was comforting, sort of like being with his Pixie...but different too. A good different. Katie brought sunshine and cheer while Fred allowed him to acknowledge the darker parts. He needed to see that he wasn't the only one with darkness. He laid his hand on Fred's shoulder as the urge to touch just couldn't be denied. "That sounds like a good option sometimes, doesn't it?" He pursed his lips considering what else, other than shagging, had worked for him. "Then again, beating the hell out of a punching bag or sparring partner works too."

Thinking of the hours he'd wasted on the cliffs, staring at the pounding surf or destroying bits of chalk, Fred nodded. "I could see that having an appeal. As for the drinking, though..." he shook his head, Ginny and Katie coming immediately to mind as he continued, "There's too many people who'd never forgive me if I did." It had been a sobering thought many times over, particularly that first year, and was one of relatively few reasons he'd never tested the height of the cliffs.

Greg remembered Raven hauling his sorry arse to the nearest fight club and insisting that he join. It had been the best decision he'd made in years. He should really see about the clubs in London, though training with strangers was never fun for the first little while. In fact, it was a testament to how fucked up he'd been that he'd not thought of it before. His hand slid up to the nape of Fred's neck and idly stroked his pulse point. "I need to stop, I know I do. I've not the too many people that you do though." He shook his head at the direction this conversation was heading in. "Why don't we forget the 'should not's' and get completely and utterly pissed?"

Fred watched the shadows slide into Greg's eyes and sighed internally, memories of himself doing exactly the same thing rising to the surface of his thoughts. He made a decision as Greg's fingers slid over the back of his neck and shifted slightly, then grabbed Greg's arms and rolled the both of them before he'd have time to react, reversing their positions. Pinned now by Greg's weight above him, he looked up into dark eyes and suggested, voice low, "Why don't you forget the alcohol and fuck me instead?"

"That I can do," Greg said, matching Fred's tone. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Fred's roughly. He needed saving from himself tonight and Fred seemed to know that. He pushed Fred into the cushions with his body as he deepened the kiss, nipping at Fred's lower lip. The alcohol made his head spin and he gripped Fred's shoulders. Once he found his balance, he leaned back enough to reach down and tug Fred's shirt from his jeans. Yanking it up, he nearly growled when he said, "this needs to be off, now."

Pushing his thoughts away to focus on Greg and what he was doing, warm weight against him, lips and hands demanding on his skin, Fred smiled, a flash of teeth, at Greg's growl. He lifted his shoulders and shrugged out of the fabric, dropping the shirt on the floor next to the sofa. "Better?" he asked, knowing he could behave with everything but his mouth - provocation was too much a part of what he did, and would keep Greg's attention where he wanted it, which was outside the bottle of Grey Goose on the table.

Greg growled again. "It'd be even better if these," he said, tugging on Fred's jeans, "were gone too. That can wait a minute though..." he trailed off, leaning down to bite Fred's neck, wanting, needing to leave a mark. Mine, his mind screamed as he soothed the sting with a kiss before returning to Fred's lips. He caught Fred's lower lip between his teeth and tugged at the exact moment his nails trailed over Fred's nipple, just hard enough to garner a reaction.

Body arching into Greg's at the bruising bite, Fred's hands slid over toned shoulders, running up the back of Greg's neck to curl around the strands of dark hair. Twitching slightly and losing a low noise of surprise against Greg's lips, his fingers tightened their grip reflexively as he only just resisted the urge to pull Greg down to him. He'd healed the mark from that afternoon in the vault, glad he'd done so when Alicia ended up sharing his bed, but these he would leave. He wanted them, reminders of lifting pain from Greg's burden, if only for a while.

Greg's control nearly broke; the vodka, the submission, and that soft sound combined were almost too much. Mine, mine, mine. The grip on his hair was what pushed him over. He rocked his hips against Fred's instinctively as his mouth trailed down Fred's chest. His tongue slowly circled a nipple before he nipped at it, anticipating Fred's reaction. He wanted to make him lose control. His hand drifted down to grip Fred's thigh, wondering what it would take to push him over the edge.

Forcing himself to release Greg's hair before he used his grip there to drag the questing mouth back to his, Fred groaned deep in his throat, knowing this would be payback for the afternoon in the vault. He scraped his short nails along the back of Greg's neck and across his shoulders, needing to return some of the sensation before it overwhelmed him; some kind of anchor in touch. He'd already chosen to give whatever Greg wanted, needed, to cope with the day, and would keep that promise.

Greg's head spun. He needed to be needed, wanted...gods he didn't know what he needed, just that it was right there, just out of reach. The scrape of Fred's nails drew a groan from him. Without second guessing his intentions, he moved his arm to circle Fred's waist as he slid back up to press their lips together. He flipped them, giving Fred back control. He didn't know how to say that as much as he wanted control, that tonight he needed to be taken care of. He lifted his eyes, locking them with Fred's blue ones, hoping that Fred could see what he couldn't say.

Fred gazed down at Greg in surprise for a moment as their positions were reversed again, reading the need in his eyes and giving a small nod to show that he understood. If it wasn't power that Greg needed, Fred could give him safety. He reached out to tip Greg's chin up, capturing his lips again for a moment before trailing the kiss away down the side of his neck, lips brushing slowly over the skin, soothing. He lost track of time as he repeated the motion, painting Greg's neck, shoulders, collarbone with light kisses, until he felt the gripping tension fade away. Taking the tendon between neck and shoulder in his teeth, lightly at first and then hard enough to bruise, sliding his hand over Greg's chest to still him, he left his own mark.

Greg relaxed under the realization that, just this once, he could be the one taken care of. For far too long it had been his responsibility to take care of everyone. He wanted, needed, to be led. He cherished the sting of Fred's mark as it made him feel wanted. He slid one hand up Fred's spine and twined his fingers into Fred's hair. The need to have an anchor, a point of control was too ingrained for him to stop himself. He was nervous, but somewhere deep down he knew that he was safe, that it was okay, because it was Fred he was handing the control to.

With the knowledge that he would be the one to drive away Greg's demons of the day, guiding him to a calmer place than he was currently in, Fred retraced his path back to Greg's lips, claiming them in a kiss as he knelt, drawing Greg up with him. "Show me your bed," he directed, wanting a space where Greg would be comfortable. He pulled away enough to stand, holding his hand out to Greg, waiting.

Greg laid his hand in Fred's and pulled himself to his feet. He led Fred through the flat and into his bedroom, the large bed beckoning them. Greg was unsure again. If he was in control he would have shoved Fred onto the bed, stripped off his jeans and shoes before shackling Fred's wrists with his hands. Holding Fred beneath him, he would proceed to drive him to the point of total and complete abandon. He sighed quietly, too damn bad that wasn't what he needed tonight.

Catching Greg's sigh, sure he was missing something about why the normally stoic man seemed so nervous, Fred toed out of his shoes and left them by the door, then guided Greg over to the bed. Releasing the hand still clasped in his, he moved to the middle of the wide mattress, sitting back against the headboard, legs splayed to make a place for Greg to sit in front of him. He'd purposely chosen one of the least threatening ways to approach this as he could, short of actually having Greg above him, which he evidently didn't want. Looking up as Greg hesitated at the edge of the bed, Fred smiled and prompted gently, "Well, come here."

Greg did as instructed, thankful that Fred somehow understood what he needed just now. He smiled as he crawled up to sit where Fred wanted him. He leaned forward and brushed a light kiss on Fred's lips, then settled in. "Here?" he teased.

"Very good," Fred acknowledged, running his fingers lightly across Greg's hips, up over the hard plane of his stomach, caressing without logic or pattern. He nuzzled the fall of Greg's hair aside, leaving a soft nip at the base of his neck before licking a wet line to his ear and pulling the lobe into his mouth to suck. Parting from the tempting bit of flesh with a scrape of teeth, he paused to murmur, "Relax. You need this and I'm not going to hurt you any more than you want me to."

Greg groaned and arched his back, laying his head on Fred's shoulder. His hands gripped Fred's thighs, his anchor. "I trust you."

Smiling against Greg's skin, Fred let his fingertips continue mapping the toned surface of the chest under his hands, alternating mere brushes with firmer strokes, sometimes changing course to circle or pinch a nipple, enjoying the hitches in Greg's breathing. He teased the stretch of throat Greg had bared to him, nipping, licking, sucking, mouth occasionally straying up to nibble along the shell of his ear.

Greg gripped Fred's hips, his brain scrambled from all the sensations. "Fred...more," he whispered, ending in a low groan.

A hum of pleasure at Greg's plea left Fred's lips, raised from the warm flesh he'd been tasting to curl into a smirk. His hands swept down Greg's chest slowly, one straying lower to stroke over the bulge prominent against the black silk, his teeth bared in a wicked grin as Greg's hips arched against his hand. He tugged lightly at the waistband of the trousers, breathing, "Get rid of these, then," into Greg's ear.

Greg grinned, lifting his hips and pushing down his pyjama bottoms, and kicking them off. He turned his head to meet Fred's eyes as his grin morphed into a wicked smirk. "How do you want me then?"

"Breathless under my hands, at the moment," Fred returned, pulling Greg back into his lap, fingertips dragging over the newly-bared thighs, purposely continuing up over Greg's hips to his stomach, resting there ever so lightly. "We have all night, unless you'd planned on sleeping," he teased, slicking one hand with a silent charm; unsurprisingly the first bit of wandless magic he or George had ever learned. Trailing one wet fingertip downward from Greg's navel, he curled his hand around the base of Greg's erection, pulling slowly upwards.

"Sleeping...is overrated," Greg managed, arching up into Fred's hand and moaning. His eyes fluttered closed as the sensation of pure pleasure overwhelmed him. His mind screamed minemoremine. "Oh Gods..."

Fred chuckled against Greg's ear, tongue flicking out to swipe across the spiral, murmuring appreciatively, "I thought you might agree with me on that." His fist pumped slowly, drawing the tease out, thumb playing over the head at the top of each stroke, fingers tightening slightly as his hand slid down. He was quite pleased with the success of his distraction, and used his free hand to tilt Greg's chin away, closing his teeth tightly over the quick tattoo of his pulse.

Greg wasn't sure if he could say or do anything in his current state. He barely managed a light nod of agreement. His world had narrowed to the mixture of pleasure and pain Fred was currently clouding his mind with. All his worries, fears, and insecurites were falling away. He reached out blindly, fisting his hands in the silk sheets.

Releasing Greg's neck with a parting lick, Fred squeezed his hand lightly and increased the pace of his stroking, feeling Greg twitch, his breath catch, at the change in rhythm. He doubted Greg could last much longer, as tense as he'd been; giving in to his body's wants with Fred there to catch him would help him relax, and that's exactly what Fred wanted. Pressing himself closer against Greg's back, the hand at his chin smoothing down the muscled chest, rolling his fingers over a nipple, Fred laid his lips against Greg's ear, explaining his plans in a soft growl. "I want you on hands and knees for me after this, and I want you to be feeling very, very good by then." He nipped the edge of Greg's ear sharply, demanding, after the space of a heartbeat, "Come for me."

Greg was helpless to do anything but comply.

[Summary: Greg invites Fred over for some distraction. Fred is only too happy to help.]