lesyeuxverts | Not Just A New Cloak

Title: Not Just A New Cloak
Author: lesyeuxverts
Beta:

bewarethesmirk
Word Count: 389
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Charlie/Kingsley
Warnings: absolutely none
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: For

angela_snape for the "Stump the Author" meme

Charlie came back to London every year to buy a new cloak. Nothing sold in Romania matched the flame-retardant cloaks from Gladrags – nothing else was as safe.

And it was only the cloak, he told himself, the cloak and perhaps the chance to visit with his family when they did their own shopping in Diagon Alley. It had nothing to do with the other customers who came to Gladrags, nothing at all.

Pinching a bit of fabric between two fingers, Charlie pretended to check the weave and softness of the cloak. One of the Aurors that made up the Minister's security detail glared at him, but Charlie ignored her, looking back at the mirror that showed Kingsley Shacklebolt's reflection.

He grinned, a slow smile that was matched by one in the mirror. Kingsley winked, and Charlie's heart skipped a beat. He'd never – six years of coming here, after the war, six years of watching the seamstress press a measuring tape to Kingsley's body, fawning and flirting as she fitted him – six years, and he'd never got the chance to see Kingsley smile.

Charlie almost dropped the cloak when Kingsley pushed the seamstress aside, striding past his Aurors and coming to stand in front of him. "That's a fine cloak," he said, reaching out to touch the fabric.

"I – er, yes," Charlie said. He swallowed hard.

"I'm sure you need a lot of specialty cloaks in your line of work." Kingsley's hand inched up the cloth, coming closer and closer to Charlie's fingers. "Don't I see you here every year?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. He couldn't look away from Kingsley's bright eyes. "The … er, the flame-retardant spells wear off after awhile."

"Is that so?" Kingsley's fingers were touching Charlie's now, and he didn't look away. "I've been thinking about whether the Aurors should wear cloaks like this. Perhaps you'd be willing to share your expertise with me?"

Charlie blinked. It couldn't – he didn't – Kingsley stood there, waiting for his answer, and Charlie took a deep breath. "Sure," he said. "I'd love to."

Kingsley smiled again, and covered both of Charlie's hands with his own. "Meet tonight at six? Dinner at my place?"

There wasn't any need for excuses or pretenses, but every year after that, Charlie made a point of going to Gladrags with Kingsley and buying a new cloak.