Word Count: 8,739
Rating: R
Category: AU/AR, Post-War, Humour, First Time, Romance
Notes: Written for 2012 Teddy Fest. Many thanks to Wwmrsweasleydo and Moshesque for their Brit-picking advices; Ayla Pascal, Katmarajade, Songquake, Carolinelamb, and Knownickname for being excellent brainstormers and cheerleaders; Ayla Pascal, Luvscharlie, and Moshesque for betaing! <3
Summary: A lover of books, Hugo grows up to become an editor, and he fulfils his dreams of working with his favourite writer.
Pairing: Teddy Lupin/Hugo Weasley
Warnings: Slash
Dedications: None
Completed Date: July 15, 2012

---

Hugo remembered being six and sitting on Grandpa Granger’s lap, listening to his grandpa’s deep voice read aloud the stories of Winnie-the-Pooh. The stories took him to the Hundred Acre Wood, where he pretended to be Christopher Robin visiting Pooh and his other friends. The stories encouraged him to read more, and it wasn’t long before he read all the Pooh books and began to act out and create his own stories and adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood.

“Let’s play Poohsticks,” he’d say to Lily. “I’ll be Pooh.”

“Then I’ll be Tigger.” Lily would grin and bounce to the bathroom in the Burrow, wearing her tiger-striped pyjamas. Hugo would follow her wearing a bright red shirt that said “Pooh” on the front. There, in the bathroom, they used toothpicks in the tub to see whose stick would reach the finish line first. They added bubbles and food colouring to the tub to make things more exciting, and then they splashed around and had rainbow water fights. They had so much fun; they didn’t even care when they got scolded for making a huge bubbly mess. For days afterwards, Hugo found bubbles everywhere — not just in the bathroom, but in the bedroom, in the sitting room, and even in his mum’s study!

Since meeting Pooh and going on his own adventures, Hugo became a voracious reader.

At the age of eight, Roald Dahl introduced him to black comedy and satire, and Hugo devoured any and all of Dahl’s books. The supernatural and magical elements of the books didn’t faze him, not when he was surrounded by magic himself, but it was Dahl’s sense of humour and the way he portrayed the world in his satirical ways that fascinated Hugo. From Matilda to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to The BFG, he escaped the real world and joined the fictional characters on their voyages.

He even begged his parents to take him to the Wonka Factory in America, believing it to be the exact replica of the magical place in the book he’d read. He asked Uncle Harry if it were possible for a glass lift to be created as a transportation device, saying it seemed more practical than a broomstick.

But his mum tried to explain to him that the factory in the United States was a Muggle factory, and that Honeydukes’ in Hogsmeade and Uncle George’s shop in Diagon Alley were the closest he’d find to Wonka’s factory. Even Uncle Harry explained how a glass lift would make a terrible transportation device, saying it had none of the flexibility a broomstick offered.

The explanations didn’t bother him. Hugo still read and imagined anything and everything he could. Even when he read the Narnia books and Lord of the Rings trilogy by the time he was twelve, he still kept his imagination, still daydreamed and imagined the magical and the Muggle worlds he lived in to be like the ones he read in the books. Even in Hogwarts, the most magical place in wizarding Britain, Hugo found things to be too mundane for his liking, so whenever he wasn’t studying, he continued to read and lose himself in the fictional worlds books provided.

But it was the novel he read at the age of fifteen that changed his life. It was the winner of the Agrippa Literary Award that year, a book where reviews said it started off deceptively simple, but ended in a way that gripped and thrilled readers, taking them on a twisting, page-turning, rollicking adventure until its last page. Muggle-borns compared the book to the magical-realism genre, especially with novels by Gabriel Marquez Garcia. It was a book where nobody knew who the author, R.L. Tilleridge, was (rumours had it that the author had a secret-keeper), but they all praised the book for its genius storytelling and theme.

Curious, Hugo read the book, wondering what made it so special, especially when nobody knew who the mysterious author was. He approached Tilleridge’s novel with wariness, thinking it had to be some overhyped marketing tactics.

He read it three times. Three times in three days. The book made his mind hurt and made him question everything he knew of the world until then. He laughed at the humorous parts until his stomach cramped; cried at the parts that overwhelmed him with emotions, hoping nobody was around when he quickly scrubbed his eyes; and in subsequent readings, he found new concepts and realisations that would leave him numb from shock. But everything the author alluded to made perfect sense to him, and all the little nuances, the symbolisms, the allusions — they were all put together masterfully.

It was Tilleridge’s book that became a milestone in Hugo’s life. This work was what made Hugo decide to become an editor instead of a writer. After seeing such skills, he knew his own mediocre writing could never live up to the likes of Tilleridge. That was not his strength — instead his strength was to read and analyse, to find loopholes and think of alternative ideas, and he’d proven that when he worked as an editor for the Hogwarts newspaper. Now he dreamed of one day becoming Tilleridge’s editor.

And when the day arrived that Tilleridge was finally revealed to be none other than Teddy Remus Lupin, Hugo decided to do everything he could to achieve his dreams.

---

“You have the qualifications, but do you really think you’re capable of becoming his editor?”

Hugo blinked at that question, surprised by Luna’s seriousness. Of all the years he’d known her, he was used to seeing her with a dreamy expression. Then again, those were times when she’d been going on about some magical creatures she and her husband, Rolf, had discovered. So perhaps, with her job as the head of a successful publishing company, she took things a bit more seriously.

He selected his words carefully. “I’m capable. I may not be perfect, but for what I lack, I’ll make it up with hard work and determination.”

“Ah, hrmmm.” Luna tapped her gaudy peacock quill, complete with a glittery tip. “I should warn you that it will not be an easy job.”

“I . . . ” Hugo cleared his throat. “I don’t care if this is going to be the world’s hardest job. Even if I have to be Uncle George’s test subject to do this job, I’ll still do it. It’d be an incredible honour to be Teddy Lupin’s, or should I say, Tilleridge’s, editor. I’ve read every single book he’s written so far.” And he had. He had even bought two copies of each book, one to read and one to keep in mint condition.

Luna nodded, and the familiar dreamy smile returned as she wrote on a small parchment, making the glitter fall all over her desk. “Here are the Apparation coordinates for his place. He’ll expect you tomorrow at ten o’clock in the morning.”

He accepted the parchment, puzzling over something. “That’s it? Doesn’t he need to interview me?”

“No. He leaves that sort of thing up to me. Don’t worry about it. Just go be the best editor you can be and more. Welcome aboard, Hugo.”

Once outside, Hugo carefully folded the parchment, slipped it into his pocket, and then let out a loud yell of happiness, not caring that he almost gave some poor lady a heart attack.

Feeling high and mighty, Hugo rushed home to his small flat near Baker Street, and he eagerly began his preparation for tomorrow.

---

Ding dong!

Hugo stepped back and shifted nervously as he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. He looked around the well cared for bushes that lined the small path. It connected to a larger dirt path, and that path became two a few hundred metres away. Down one way, he could see a small town. On the other route, he saw it going into an ominous looking forest. Just looking at that forest gave Hugo the willies as he remembered that one and only time he and Lily had snuck into the Forbidden Forest, and it was there he realised just how scary gigantic spiders were and just why his dad did not like them.

Hugo suppressed a shudder and quickly looked back at the longhouse in front of him. The place had a thatched roof with a stone chimney attached to it. The longhouse wasn’t as big as some of the ones belonging to farmers, but its smaller size gave a cosy feel to it. He wondered how the inside would look.

Then he realised that nobody had come to the door. Frowning, he pressed the doorbell again.

Ding dong!

Still nobody came. Confused, and now wondering if he had even Apparated to the right place, Hugo pulled out the parchment from his pocket to re-check his coordinates. “These are right,” he muttered to himself, and he took a deep breath and tried again.

Ding dong! Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong!

Exasperated, he reached for the doorknob, fully expecting it to be locked, but instead it opened with a click. There’s something familiar about the wards, he thought, as he slowly opened the door.

“Hello?” he called out. Hugo stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It was one gigantic room with one side of the place designated as the kitchen and dining area, another side as the study and sitting room with a fireplace, and the final side was walled off with a door, to which he guessed was the loo.

From the entryway, he stared at the piles of books all over the place. There were books stacked by the fireplace. In front of the unlit fireplace, two armchairs, a sofa, and a table were arranged there, and all of them had their own piles of books. One pile, on the table, was set precariously, making Hugo wonder if the slightest bump would cause an avalanche or not. The desk nearby, placed in front of a sunny window, also had stacks of books and parchments on it. There was even a huge Muggle-style entertainment system set up with a gigantic telly and video game systems.

He averted his gaze to the kitchen and dining area, and he wrinkled his nose from the sight and the terrible stench emanating from the area. In the sink, and on both the counters and the table, there were dirty dishes. He even eyed the open microwave and saw a bowl in there, and he knew that it, too, was dirty like all of its companions in the vicinity. He decided to forgo checking the loo, deeply afraid of what he may encounter in there.

Instead, he looked at the stairs in the back of the house, past beyond the kitchen area, which led to the loft. He headed over to the stairs, and he called out again, “Hello? Ted — er — Mr Lupin? Mr Tilleridge?”

There was no answer. Hugo’s brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips as he began to slowly ascend. Halfway up the stairs, he saw something from the corner of his eye. He looked and saw a huge dangling spider and a man with glasses and the most frightful, messy-looking white hair.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Forgetting that he was on the stairs, Hugo took an automatic step back and fell onto a soft cushion that appeared just in time. He landed with a loud “oof!” and while he tried to regain his breathing, he looked back up at the face that was peering over the edge of the loft’s opening.

“Oh!” Teddy, at least Hugo assumed it was Teddy masquerading as that one Muggle scientist, stared back owlishly. “Terribly sorry about that! I was digging under my bed and through my trunk for this little eight-legged fellow, so I didn’t realise the doorbell was ringing and that someone was calling for me. I thought it was just my head playing tricks on me. Good thing Harry had spelled the wards to allow friends to enter. It’s also a relief that Luna had convinced me to spell that cushion to appear in case somebody falls off these stairs. Are you all right?”

“Juh — just fine,” Hugo managed to gasp, still trying to calm his wildly beating heart. He gestured at the spider, and he shivered at its realistic appearance, which included the rather large fangs and the hairy legs. “I’m glad you found it.”

“Me, too. I needed Shelob here to give me inspiration for my next story. Now that I found it, I should get to writing some. And you are . . . ?”

“Hugo. Hugo Weasley. Your new editor?” He gathered his dignity and picked himself off the cushion. “Didn’t Luna tell you?”

“Did she? I think I heard the Floo go off, but I was trying to cook eggs at that time. But that didn’t go too well, hence those dishes down there,” Teddy explained as he came down and stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Hugo finally got a good look at the man whose books had changed his life. Teddy was just a bit shorter than he was — then again, Hugo did inherit his dad’s height and build — and aside from that hairstyle, he wasn’t a bad looking bloke. He had broad shoulders, but his body was on the lithe side. The way he carried himself gave him a sereneness that felt almost otherworldly to Hugo. When he looked into Teddy’s hazel eyes, deep within the mixture of colours, he saw a spark. He couldn’t find the exact words to describe it, but he sensed that Teddy was different. Hugo felt like all time had stopped as he continued to look into those eyes, and when Teddy began to speak, he saw the full, but chapped lips moving slowly.

“–do the dishes?”

That broke the spellbinding hold on him, and Hugo shook his head, his fringe moving along, and he blinked his eyes. “Sorry?”

“Will you do the dishes and then help me organise and put these books away?”

“Huh?” Hugo pressed his lips together, and he clenched his fists before saying, “I’m your editor, not your house elf.”

“You’re to also helping me with my writing.”

“By cleaning your place?”

Teddy took out a large notepad and summoned a quill and began to write on it. “Yes. How else can I focus and find the time otherwise?”

“You could get a house elf,” Hugo repeated, this time slowly.

“That goes against my principles.”

“Wait, what?!” Hugo’s mind went back to the stories he’d heard from his dad and Uncle Harry about his mum’s wild SPEW campaign, and he wondered if Teddy had been lured into the whole thing by his mum.

“Oh, and when you’re done, can you prepare some tea? I just realised I didn’t get my caffeine fix yet. I take milk with mine, Helio.”

“It’s Hugo, and who in Merlin’s beard would name someone ‘Helio’?”

Teddy went to his desk, and he set the notepad on top of the mess and continued to write without stopping. “I know someone with the name Prickenstein. Or was that a book title? By Bloody Mary? No matter, that’s not important.”

Prickenstein? Bloody Mary? It took every ounce of control for Hugo to not correct him. Instead, knowing that it was easier to just do the chores instead of arguing with this madman, he turned and went to do the dreaded dishes and prepare the sodding tea. All the while he cursed at how someone could use up every single dish in the cupboards to make eggs, and he began to wonder if this was really an editor’s job or not.

---

By the end of the second week, Hugo was exhausted. He was also amazed by Teddy’s capacity to create a mess every day. He suspected Teddy must stay up all night trashing the place instead of writing. Sometimes there were dirty clothes all over the place. Other times, the books Hugo had put away would all be back out again. Then there were always the dishes left for him to wash. Strangely enough, though, the loo was the only place in the house Teddy kept tidy. Hugo was tempted to ask about that, but then he feared that might only give Teddy the idea to mess it up, and Hugo did not want to add the loo to the many things he had to clean.

Hugo had to go see Luna before going to Teddy, so when he saw her, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Is this really an editor position?”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked while trimming some of the needles off her pet cactus, Billy. The cactus — a gift from Neville — glared at him and stuck out its tongue. Hugo gave it a look of his own.

“I haven’t edited anything yet. I’ve been–”

“Cleaning? Preparing his food? Making sure he doesn’t blow up his place with his microwave?”

Hugo nodded and then remembered something. “Is this what you meant by being a good editor and ‘more’?”

“Yes. So good of you to remember.”

“But–!”

“You know what I think an editor is supposed to be?” Luna’s face took on a serious look once more. “It’s to support their author in every shape and form. Most people believe that an editor’s job is to only correct and suggest ways to improve the author’s writing, but the strongest relationship between the editor and the author is supposed to be one of trust, mutual respect, and understanding. It’s quite similar to marriage.

“Teddy’s a brilliant writer,” she continued. “But you have to be patient and help him achieve that in his writing.”

“How on earth did he write all those great books before? How did those editors handle him?” Hugo asked with a frown.

Luna cocked her head to the side. “You think all of his books are great? You know that’s not the general consensus in the literary world? Everyone agrees that his first novel, the one that won the Agrippa Award, was a work of a genius, but the novels he wrote after all lacked the same greatness of that first book.”

“That’s not true! All of his books to date have been brilliant!” Hugo retorted. “Granted, the others after are not on the same level as the first book, but the other people are just not able to understand what each book is doing!”

“That’s your opinion, and you’re the first one I know of that thinks like that.” Luna smiled gently. “Therefore, as his editor, if you really believe in him, you can get the others to believe in him, too.”

“Huh? Why should I be the one to try and convince the others?”

“You don’t have to, but as an editor, you’re to also help produce a book that will affect our society in some way or other.”

Hugo saw her opening up her tiger-striped, rainbow-coloured notebook. This was a sure sign of dismissal. He stood up, gave one last glare to the unfriendly cactus, and turned to leave, but before he reached the door, he heard her say, “By the way, when he wrote that award-winning book, he had an excellent relationship with his editor. But that editor passed away unexpectedly, and since then, all the editors he’s had did not have what it takes to be with him. But I think you’re unlike the others, Hugo. You can make this work.”

---

All weekend long, Hugo thought about his conversation with Luna. He thought about Teddy’s quirky personality and his “inability” to take care of himself. After much prodding and hemming on his own, he decided that he’d support Teddy in every way he possibly could because he did want to see another great book from Teddy, and he did want to fulfil his job eventually, despite all he’d have to do. Besides, the endless amount of chores didn’t take so long to do now as he was getting used to them. He was becoming quite proficient in cleaning and cooking charms.

Despite Teddy’s absent-minded way of living, Hugo noticed that Teddy was a creature of habit in his own unique way. Every morning, when Hugo arrived at Teddy’s place, Teddy would be up and ready. Some days, Teddy opted for his natural appearance, but other days he would change his hair colour and style and his eye colour for fun. Hugo quickly got used to seeing Teddy with an orange mullet and purple eyes or some strange combination like that. Looks aside, he was always ready for whatever breakfast Hugo decided on making.

Since that first day when he had to clean up the egg disaster’s aftermath, he’d quickly learned that Teddy was not to be trusted with anything kitchen-related. Case in point, when Hugo had asked for sugar one time, Teddy had handed him salt instead, and Hugo saw that Teddy would not pay attention to what he punched on the microwave. Ergo, he decided that the only safe thing Teddy could handle was setting the table.

The few times Teddy did try to help out, he noticed Teddy preferred to do everything without magic. He asked about that one time.

“Hrm? Use magic to clean and cook? Well, this is a bit embarrassing to say, but I’m quite awful at those spells.”

“But I thought you did great in Charms?”

“No, I did great in Transfigurations. Besides, I kind of like the Muggle lifestyle. It adds something more rustic, yes?”

You mean you like it because it gives you an excuse to do a horrible job at cleaning and cooking to get someone else to do them for you? Hugo thought, but not unkindly.

That was breakfast, and then after, Teddy would do research or watch some Muggle shows to learn from them, and that was when Hugo would clean up the place and do laundry. Then he’d cook something for lunch, and they would eat it together. It was during their lunch that Teddy would initiate random conversation topics such as:

“You know how history tells us that Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were rivals? And they even grew apart because of their ideological differences?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it was more than ideological differences. I think Gryffindor fancied Slytherin and vice-versa.”

Hugo dropped his fork and gaped. “What?!”

“It makes sense. They both fancied each other, but they were both too tied down by societal expectations, busy creating and maintaining Hogwarts, and focussed with the whole Muggle-borns situation. All of that pretty much created unresolved sexual tensions for the two, so that further deteriorated their relationship.”

“Oh, er, that’s an interesting . . . theory?”

“Thanks! Oh, and also, you know the Stonehenge? I believe the whole thing used to be shaped like a penis . . . ”

After lunch, Teddy would do one of two things. He would blast out the wireless and write on his laptop (a gift from Harry) that was charmed to type his dictation if he wanted, or he would turn on one of his video game consoles and have them play a game of his choice. Most of the time, they played something called “Mario”, and Hugo tried to figure out the concept of a plumber going around some mushroomy place to rescue a princess from this strange dragon-turtle thing with spikes. He also noticed that Teddy was a vocal and active player.

“Jump! . . . No! You’re jumping too slow! That mushroom’s getting away from me! Blast it all! That bloody fireball!” While saying all this, Teddy jumped and moved around on the sofa. Hugo quickly learned to give Teddy plenty of space whenever they played video games.

Tea time came in mid-afternoon, and Hugo prepared tea with scones or other treats, and Teddy would have that while reading some gigantic book. It was during these moments Teddy had told Hugo to do whatever he wanted. Hugo usually opted to do some lingering chores or tasks that needed to be done. But sometimes he became bored, so he decided to just talk to Teddy.

“You know, you really have an impressive book collection.”

There was no answer — fairly typical of Teddy whenever he was drinking tea and reading a book.

Hugo, undeterred, smiled and continued, “You remind me of Matilda, except you’re drinking tea, not Ovaltine.” Suddenly an idea came, figuring this would break Teddy’s concentration. “By the way, I’m hung like a hippogriff.”

He watched closely for a reaction, any slight movement. There was none except for Teddy turning a page while his eyes moved to follow the words.

Rolling his eyes, realising that Teddy’s concentration could not be broken even if a real hippogriff did come, Hugo finished his tea.

His last task of the day was to leave Teddy some dinner, usually by getting takeaway. Then he’d bid Teddy a good night, and he’d go home. And each day he did, he wondered whether he had done enough to help Teddy with his writing and hoped that he was forming that mutual trust and respect Luna had mentioned.

---

One Thursday morning, after tea and cake, Teddy said abruptly, “Let’s go to London after lunch.”

“Huh?” Hugo was thrown off by the unexpected suggestion.

“I’d like to take a ride on the Tube, go see the Buckingham Palace guards, and go to Hyde Park.”

Hugo raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said slowly. “If that’s what you want . . . ”

“Stupendous! There’s a safe point we can Apparate to, and from there we hop on the Tube.”

Teddy wandered up to the loft to change. While he did that, Hugo checked his own outfit to see if he was wearing something proper for Muggle London. He never wore robes, so his simple ensemble of a red Weasley jumper over a t-shirt with jeans and trainers passed his test. However, when he saw Teddy coming downstairs, he ended up gawking at Teddy’s appearance. Teddy wore a white shirt under a dark grey pinstriped waistcoat with a matching pair of trousers. He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and he wore a blue tie with some abstract designs on it. His black dress shoes and his grey-and-black-banded fedora finished and complimented his outfit. Under his hat, his hair was short and it was black with blue tint.

Normally, Teddy wore outfits that tended to clash and be horribly uncoordinated. The other day, Teddy had worn some neon pink and green polka-dot shorts and a purple and orange striped t-shirt, with matching neon green coloured hair. All day, Hugo had to resort to wearing sunglasses. With that kind of style, Hugo assumed that it was just another one of Teddy’s quirks and that he just had bad fashion sense.

But no! What Teddy wore now made him look so different, so dapper. Hugo cleared his throat. “Will you wait a few?”

“For?”

Teddy’s eyes looked back at him half-lidded. His eyes, like on their first day of meeting, were hazel, and Hugo didn’t miss the sparks in the blend of colours. He felt smothered by them and it took him a couple of seconds to regain his composure before saying, “Er, I need to change.”

“Change what?”

“My clothes.”

“Whatever for?” Teddy looked genuinely confused, so unlike his usual unfazed, unflappable self.

Hugo gestured at Teddy’s well-put together ensemble. “I look like rubbish compared to you!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You look fine.”

“We’d look quite mismatched,” Hugo insisted.

Teddy reached out for Hugo’s wrist, and he side-Apparated them to the station. There, he continued to tug him along.

“W-wait!” Hugo exclaimed, but Teddy didn’t stop moving. Still holding onto Hugo’s wrist, he bought their tickets, and he only let go when they were in the train.

Hugo could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He knew that they were probably wondering why someone so plain-looking was with someone dressed up like some model. He tried his best to ignore them, and instead he glanced at Teddy, who ignored everyone as if he had no other care in the world. As the train travelled, Hugo tuned out the noise and his body became used to the vibrations, which relaxed him. He glanced at Teddy once more, and he saw Teddy’s head moving slowly, his eyes taking on a serious gaze.

Hugo knew instinctively to not say anything, to not bother Teddy, but he wasn’t sure why his gut was telling him that.

Upon reaching their destination, they silently walked outside and soon reached the gates of Buckingham Palace. Hugo and Teddy joined the slew of tourists who were snapping away on their cameras. Just like on the Tube, Hugo assumed Teddy would not say anything and would just look around. That was the case until Teddy said, “Are you really hung like a hippopotamus?”

Hugo whipped his head around so fast and hard that he could feel his neck muscles cry out in pain. He watched a few people look at them strangely before they walked away, and he hissed, “Shut up!”

“Eh? That’s what you said to me a few days ago during tea. These guards’ hats reminded me, so that’s why I decided to ask.”

Bloody fucking hell! He’d been listening all those times when I was talking to the front of his book? Hugo flushed, groaned, and slapped his forehead. He then whispered, “I said ‘hippogriff’. I never said ‘hippopotamus’.”

“We’re in the Muggle world now, so I replaced that word with one that sounds similar,” Teddy responded airily.

“Oh.”

“So are you?”

Hugo blinked before remembering the original question. “No! Time to change the subject! Let’s go to Hyde Park.” This time he grabbed Teddy’s wrist, ignored the soft chuckles, and guided them through the streets to reach the park.

They reached a quiet area and took a seat on a bench. Hugo leaned back heavily and tilted his head and looked at the sky. Next to him, Teddy took off his fedora, laid it on the spot next to him, and slung his arms on the top of the bench. He heard Teddy inhaling deeply. Teddy then stood up and walked slowly to a nearby tree.

Hugo remained at the bench, and he watched Teddy touching a tree, watched the way his slender fingers traced the trunk and the leaves. Like before, Hugo stayed silent because of his instincts, and as he continued to watch Teddy, it hit him then that Teddy was doing all this for his writing. Teddy was observing and participating in the world they lived in so he could write all about them. The way Teddy was communing with nature at the moment reminded him of the Lake Poets and their love for nature. Just like the poets of the past, he realised that Teddy’s own writings contained a lot about surrealistic interpretation of nature, so that was why this outing was suggested today.

Teddy may act like the most incapable, oddest bloke he had ever met, but Hugo knew that there was more to Teddy than met the eye. Something shifted inside of him; after that day, he began to look at Teddy differently.

---

The hands, its fingers all callused and rough, were warm. They grazed his cheeks for a few seconds, right below his blindfolded eyes, the roughness meeting the scratchiness of his stubble, before they slowly descended and traced his collarbone. One of the hands stopped at his nipple, pinching it softly until it proudly perked up. The other hand went farther down, past his navel, and he felt the heated hand around his throbbing manhood.

Hugo let out a moan as the hand slowly pumped him, its thumb right on his slit, playing with his precome. “More. Please, more. Faster!” he begged.

He felt something hot and wet on his ear, and he heard a sultry voice say, “You like this?”

The hand down below picked up the pace ever so slightly, and the pleasure inside of him grew and spread all over his body so slowly that it made him want more. “Yes!” he panted out, trying his hardest not to sound so needy. He arched his body forward, urging that hand to move even faster. “I . . . please!”

“Is that all? Don’t you want to know who I am? Aren’t you curious?”

“Yes, I . . . ” The hand stopped moving, and Hugo let out a soft whimper as his cock throbbed where the hand squeezed him. “Please, don’t stop.”

The other hand that had been playing with his nipple moved away, and his blindfold slipped slowly down his face. He blinked at the sudden light, and they slowly focussed on the smirking man.

“Gah!” Hugo woke up with a start, breathing hard as he reached up to wipe away the sweat on his face. He shifted and realised that he was still hard from that dream. A dream that had him aching for more. He couldn’t believe it.

He glanced at his nightstand, and then he flew out of bed and went straight to take a cold shower. He had overslept.

In the freezing shower, he thought about his dream, and he told himself, “It was only a dream. Dreams do not mean anything!” Yet no matter how many times he repeated it, deep down inside, he knew it meant something.

He quickly made it to Teddy’s place with only minutes to spare, and he shoved all the sexual thoughts away as he concentrated on his job and pretended that nothing had happened.

But night after night, his subconscious betrayed him, and every morning he’d wake up hard and wanting Teddy so much. Some nights the dreams were sweet and pleasant, as he and Teddy snogged themselves until they were completely breathless. Other nights were like his first dreams — kinky and sexually-driven. Still, despite his own wants and needs, he did everything to not show his feelings on this particular matter. He acted polite and went about his job; he mentally patted himself on the back for being able to keep his personal life separate from his professional one.

Or so he thought.

---

About a week later, Teddy said during breakfast, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes!” That came out far higher than normal. Hugo cleared his throat and continued, “Everything’s all right.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been much too quiet these days and it seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”

Oh, bugger! So he hadn’t been doing a good job. Inwardly, Hugo berated himself, and his mind rushed around as he tried to think of something to say that would change the subject. “Why did you write under a pseudonym before?”

“Is that what’s been bothering you? I thought it was because I kept beating you in Mario.” Teddy looked surprised.

Mario? An image of a mushroom came into his mind, and he began to wonder if the tip of Teddy’s cock was shaped like that or not, but before he could dwell on it further, he mentally slapped himself to get back to Teddy’s pseudonym. “Uh, yes? If you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”

“Mmm.” He took a sip of his tea. “It’s not a big deal. I just decided to write under a pseudonym because I wanted to see if I could make it without being known as the son of war heroes and such.”

“Oh.” Hugo could understand that. His parents were heroes, too, plus his cousins were also all descended from the most famous war hero of all.

“Also,” he continued, the serious tone and expression stilling Hugo, a tone and expression that were a far cry from his usual absent-minded behaviour. “I wanted to use the name ‘Tilleridge’ to commemorate my first editor.”

“Tilleridge was your first editor?”

“Well, sort of. He was a Muggle living next to my grandmother. An old chap, widowed, and the biggest lover of books. I went over to his place a lot when I wasn’t in school. His personal library was impressive. He encouraged me to read and write whatever I could. He helped me a lot when I was writing my first novel, so while he was never my official editor, he was one for me.” Teddy took a deep breath. “He died before I finished the book.”

Hugo nodded once. His throat was too tight for him to say anything.

“He and Harry were both like a father to me. I will never forget him.”

“Yes. And you won’t. You’ll join him one day and see your parents when you go to the Grey Havens.”

Teddy looked up in surprise. “You know . . . ?”

“Yes. I’m a big fan of Tolkien’s books. And I figured you read his books, too, considering how you named that spider ‘Shelob’.”

They both looked at each other and started to laugh, which changed their current atmosphere to a happier one. Teddy stopped laughing first, and he said, “Well, a lot of the books you see here are from Tilleridge’s library. Thank you for helping me take care of them.”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad to help.”

Teddy reached out and squeezed Hugo’s shoulder. Without any more words, Teddy finished his breakfast, and the rest of the day passed as any other day.

Hugo’s shoulder stayed warm the whole day.

---

One afternoon, Hugo suddenly heard loud noises when he was in the loo. It didn’t sound like any of Teddy’s video games, and it didn’t sound like the wireless. When he stepped out, he marched over to where Teddy had planted himself in front of his gigantic telly. On screen, he saw a bunch of large elephant-looking creatures, men in armour and on horses, and ugly goblin-looking creatures, all fighting for their lives. “What in Helga’s name are you watching?”

“The Battle of the Pelennor Fields.”

Hugo frowned. “Isn’t that from The Lord of the Rings?”

“Yes, this is the film adaptation of the book.”

“Oh! That trilogy directed by Paul Jackson?”

“Peter — not Paul.”

“Oh, right. Peter Jackson.” Hugo sat down next to Teddy, their shoulders nearly touching, and he watched the continuing battle on screen. “I have heard about the film adaptations, but I haven’t watched them.”

“Why not?”

“Because Mum always told me that the film adaptations of books were always rubbish compared to the books.”

“Mmm.” Teddy nodded. “I tend to agree with your mother, but Peter Jackson did do a brilliant job with the trilogy. Some of the changes and some of the scenes he chose to not include are not always logical, but what he did as a whole, these are great films.”

Hugo was about to ask about the changes when Teddy continued, “Plus, I cannot deny the fact that Aragorn, Legolas, and Faramir are all quite handsome. Actually, no, they are all quite sexy in their own ways.”

Hugo’s mouth dropped opened. “Um, what?”

“Hmm? Do you not trust my taste? Here let me show them to you!” Teddy eagerly began to push the buttons on the remote control, and he happily showed all the characters in the trilogy. Hugo’s head spun as he watched the montages of the original Fellowship members, Faramir, Celeborn, Eomer, Haldir, and even of the antagonists such as Saruman before Teddy finally stopped. “See, all of these men — young or old — are all good looking. But my absolute favourite is Aragorn. Several of my lady friends all swooned over Legolas — I guess it’s because he’s very pretty? — but I, myself, greatly preferred Aragorn. Though I cannot say I like him being with Arwen. I always thought Eowyn would have been a better match for him.”

Hugo burst out laughing after listening to Teddy’s opinionated speech. He knew Teddy liked Tolkien’s books, but he had no idea Teddy’s love for the work went this far. Even better, though, was that he now knew for sure Teddy’s own preferences, so that made him feel all hopeful and giddy at knowing that perhaps, just perhaps, he had a chance with Teddy.

However, he was unsure of how to make the next move. He decided that now was probably not the best time to announce his crush. Instead he said, “I agree. Eowyn would be better for him.”

“Absolutely!” Teddy beamed. “Do you want to watch the whole trilogy from the beginning?”

Hugo slowly smiled. “Why not?”

“All right. Do you want to watch the theatrical release, which is about nine hours long or the extended edition for eleven hours?”

“I . . . er . . . extended?” Hugo felt faint at the suggestion of watching something for eleven hours, but Teddy mistook his hesitance.

“Extended it is! That one is much better. Let’s begin this marathon.”

Hours later, when Hugo finally left Teddy’s place around four in the morning, he knew what was meant by the Muggle’s phrase of being a “couch potato”. He also discovered just how hard it was to keep his hands to himself during those eleven hours. Teddy’s excitement and love of the films shone brightly through his facial expressions, his body language, and his intricate explanations. The twinkling in his eyes, the smile that showed off his dimples, that bit of skin that made itself known whenever he raised his arms up in the air as he cheered on the characters, and that deep, husky voice that sent shivers down his spine — all of these made Hugo fall harder for the man right next to him. Teddy was so near, so close to him, and yet Hugo could do nothing as he waited for the marathon to end so he could go home and fantasise about him even more instead of thinking about that Ring that Launched Hell on Middle Earth.

Yet his own brains turned against him that night when he finally got some kip. Instead of dreaming about the two of them bonking each other, he’d dreamed that Teddy was Legolas and he as Gimli, and they were going at it like two wild Cornish Pixies. When he got up a few hours later, he woke up scowling and muttering, “Bloody hell, making me the short dwarf, and Teddy the cool, good looking elf even when I’m taller than him . . . I hate my subconscious!”

---

“I think I’m done.” Teddy stretched and then scratched his leopard-patterned hair.

“With what?” Hugo spelled the last set of cups onto the drying rack. He dried his hands and walked over and sat across from Teddy. In between them was the coffee table, and on it was a stack of papers bound together.

“The first draft.”

“Oh!” Hugo smiled. “That’s great. Congratulations!”

“Thank you. And now, it’s your turn.” Teddy turned his laptop off and he moved to the front of his video game system.

“Right.” Hugo felt a bit odd — after months of cooking and cleaning, he was finally going to do the job he originally was to do. He felt anxious and excited, wondering what this newest novel would be like. Taking a deep breath, he made himself comfortable on the sofa, and he picked up the thick draft and began to read.

For the next five hours, that was what he did along with keeping notes of what he read on a parchment. He just couldn’t stop. He didn’t even stop for their mid-afternoon tea; Teddy somehow took care of it himself, surprisingly without causing an explosion.

Hugo ignored the tea Teddy gave him. He only continued to read and edit. Every single word, every sentence hit him just like the very first novel he’d read from Teddy. He became lost in the characters’ minds as he looked at the novel’s world through their eyes. The more he read, the more he felt disconnected from the physical world. The mixture of narrations at first confused him, but they all came together in ways that were almost magical.

When he finished the last page, Hugo’s eyes lingered on the final words. Unbeknownst to him, tears had gathered in his eyes, and they came down slowly. He came back to reality when he felt someone touching his cheek gently and taking away the pages from him. Then he felt someone sitting next to him, and he turned his head and stared at Teddy through his tears; one of Teddy’s thumbs wiped away another tear that had fallen.

Teddy’s eyes held a hint of concern. “Was it that bad?”

He shook his head.

Teddy looked relieved. He removed his hand, and he was moving back, but then he stopped because Hugo had reached out and grabbed him by the back of his neck.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Hugo grew dizzy. Unhurriedly, inch by inch, they came closer. Hugo closed the remaining gap between them, and he kissed Teddy hard, remembering one of the novel’s messages, about how people should grab life by the bull’s balls or something. Or was it a hippopotamus? All thoughts about the novel disappeared when he felt Teddy kissing back, and all his nightly sexual fantasies came back in full-force.

Someone moaned into the kiss; Hugo didn’t care whose moan it was — he only cared that they were both full out snogging now, both tongues caressing each other’s, and Hugo found himself lying on the sofa, with his back now against the soft cushion and Teddy’s warm, hard body on his. He wrapped his arms around Teddy’s broad back, and his legs spread open wider, arching into Teddy’s body when he felt their groins meeting for the first time.

It was Teddy who broke the kiss. Panting, he shifted his lower body and said, “I feel as if you are hung like a hippogriff.”

Hugo let out a breathy moan as he felt the movement, and he flushed harder as Teddy reminded him of that blasted conversation. Yet before he could say something, Teddy said, “We should stop.” But he didn’t stop. He continued to plant small kisses all over Hugo’s cheeks and neck.

“You first,” Hugo gasped, tilting his neck to give Teddy better access. He moaned out loud when he felt Teddy’s hot mouth and tongue sucking on his sensitive skin. Their hips both rocked back and forth, and Hugo’s body was on fire as he felt his arousal growing more in the passing seconds.

Teddy stopped sucking, and he moved his hands to slip under Hugo’s shirt. “I can’t. You’ve been occupying my dreams far too much lately. Made me wonder if you had cast a spell on me.”

Hugo laughed. “I did no such things. If anything, you cast a spell on me! You . . . do you know how much I’ve wanted this?”

“Do tell. Tell me more,” Teddy said, moving back up to kiss him again.

Before their lips met again, Hugo said, rather shrilly , “I fancy you!” He cringed at his voice, which suddenly reminded him of his mum’s voice when she was upset.

“I’m glad the feeling is mutual.” The words sounded raspy, but Teddy didn’t stop there. He came closer and his lips gently covered Hugo’s.

Hugo accepted the kiss for a few seconds before he brought his hands to Teddy’s chest and pushed him off. “Let’s stop!” And before he could sound like an arse, he added, “Let’s take it a bit slower. As much as I want to bonk you or be bonked by you, let’s go back to that novel of yours. The ball grabbing thing can wait.”

Teddy sat back up, while Hugo closed his eyes tightly as he imagined Hagrid in some BDSM get-up. That worked for him, but when he pulled himself up into a sitting position very close to Teddy, he almost faltered at the image of a naked Teddy that bombarded his mind. Luckily Teddy said, “What’s this ball grabbing thing you’re talking about?”

“Oh, erm, that’s a message I got from this novel? That people should grab life by a bull’s balls when they need to?”

Teddy blinked. “That’s an interesting interpretation. Anything else?”

Hugo reached out for the parchment with his notes on it. “Here. These are my notes with all my suggestions and corrections that are to be made.”

“All right.” Teddy took the parchment and read through it. Minutes passed as Hugo watched a frown grow deeper and deeper on Teddy’s face. When he finished he set the parchment down and said, “You went pretty hard on me there.”

“Is that . . . a problem?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Teddy smiled. “It’s a good thing. My previous editors were never this hard on me. But you’re like Tilleridge. Both of you are encouraging, but also complete hard-arses with editing.”

“Oh,” Hugo said nonchalantly, but was secretly glad he was compared to Tilleridge and was told that he was a hard editor.

“Hrm, can you elaborate on this point? Then afterwards let me treat us to a good restaurant I know in London? I’m kind of tired of fish and chips. And we need to celebrate me finishing this first draft! I’ve worked hard on this, you know.”

Hugo laughed and grabbed Teddy’s hand and squeezed it. “I do know. Let’s go for it.”

---

“Are you pleased by the reviews and accolades Teddy’s book has been getting?” Luna asked, smiling in a knowing way as she carefully moved Billy to a new location on her desk.

Ignoring Billy, Hugo said, “Of course. It feels great that I helped edit it.”

“I’m glad you two worked out well. I have to say I had my doubts when Teddy suggested you.”

“Suggested me? What are you talking about?”

“He hasn’t told you?” Luna looked at Hugo intently and then laughed softly. “I guess both of you have been too busy communicating in other ways, and it must’ve slipped his mind.”

“Luna!” Hugo flushed at her allusions. “Wait, wait, are we that obvious?”

“Have you forgotten the time I walked in on you two when his hands were in your–”

“You can stop now!”

“–and like I said, he was the one who suggested you to be his new editor,” Luna continued. “Apparently, he saw you in a bookstore, saw you picking up one of his newest books that was released last year . . . ”

His mind flashed back to that day, too. He remembered being thrilled for the day he’d been waiting for what felt like forever. He had stood in front of the display that was stacked with copies of Teddy’s book, and he had reached out, slowly picking it up as if it were a precious gem.

” . . . and he recognised you. And he was enamoured by your smile, by your sheer happiness at his book. And he told me that you were his kindred soul to his writing.”

Hugo made a face at the cheesy line. “Yeah, right.”

“Well, that wasn’t the exact phrase. What he really said was that your smile was sexy and that you had one hell of an arse.”

“Luna!” Hugo felt his cheeks flushing. He was pleased to hear about Teddy’s thoughts, but quite the opposite at how Luna was presenting all this as if she were discussing Nargles.

Luna just smiled brightly. “Yes? I only speak the truth.”

Quickly, Hugo moved on, “Wasn’t there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Teddy has these book signings and events to attend to in the next few weeks. Your newest task is to ensure he makes it to all these events.”

Hugo nodded and took the parchment she held out. He scanned it and said, “Quite a bit, but this shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Easier said than done. Getting him to one of these is like trying to stay awake in one of Professor Binns’ lectures.”

He blanched at the comparison. “That bad?”

“Somewhat. Though . . . ” She winked at him. “I’m sure you have ways to convince him. Now I bid you a fond farewell. I must go see Neville about Billy.”

Blushing once more, he left her office, and there Hugo let out a slow smile. As he chuckled to himself, he walked outside to Apparate to his lover’s home, where he looked forward to this new challenge.