Close Your Eyes - H/G, H/R - NC-17
Title: Close Your Eyes
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, implied Harry/Ron
Warning: Harry/Ginny (and other het) shippers, if you try it, stop reading at the fish; Harry/Ron shippers, um, it’s het….
Words: 1700
Rating: NC-17

For the enchanting maple_mahogany, because she is the best sort of Ron/Hermione shipper, and we had a conversation along these lines in about July, and I needed to include it in a fic, even though she has probably forgotten all about it.

Betaed by the brave magicofisis, who is just about the only other person I can imagine reading it…


Close Your Eyes
****
Ginny's POV
The Floo flared into life and Harry stumbled into my flat.

Bless him, he still isn’t the world’s greatest Flooer, but he looked deliciously windswept – insane hair and flushed cheeks – and I brushed the soot off him and accepted a kiss.

“Good day?” I asked, drawing him down onto the couch, capturing his hand and entwining our fingers.

He winced and showed me bruised knuckles.

He and Ron are almost finished Auror training and their physical combat course is almost brutal.

“Did you punch Ron again?” I asked, carefully wrapping his arm round my shoulders and snuggling closer.

“You know that was an accident,” he said, his hand drifting into my hair.

Mum hated my new, shorter, haircut, but Harry loved it, and was always running his fingers through it.

“Shall we go out for something to eat?” he asked.

“I c’n make something, you know,” I protested. “I won’t poison you.”

“Maybe later,” he said and I smiled up at him.

His other hand cupped my face, tipping it up to him as he bent his head.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered huskily, against my lips, and I complied.

His mouth covered mine and clung for a moment, brushing two, three kisses on my lips before parting them with a gentle tongue.

“Hmmm,” I sighed, eyes closed, opening up to him as he tasted me.

“Hush,” he murmured, both hands now in my hair as he pushed me back on the couch.

He is always more physical after a combat training session, the adrenaline still coursing through him, and he covered my body with his own, our legs tangled and his erection grinding against my thigh.

His hand ran down my body, caressing my thigh and hooking behind my knee to drag my leg up and over his hip.

I rubbed myself against him, holding him close with my calf as he stroked my leg. He’s always been a bit of a leg man, but I don’t mind, because my chest isn’t exactly over abundant and doesn’t feel neglected.

His hand settled on my hip, holding me down as he rocked, his tongue’s rhythm matching his thrusts against me.

I watched him through my eyelashes, his eyes open as he kissed, an adorable frown between his brows. He had discarded his glasses and his eyes were out of focus and his cheeks were flushed and I snuck another look as he rolled off the couch to strip off his clothes.

I ran a hand down his chest. I wish I had long fingernails to rake his skin, but Chaser training requires I keep them short, or I’d never catch the Quaffle.

Harry tugged at my jeans and I lifted my arse to let him pull them and my knickers down and off.

He stroked my leg again, bending to press a kiss dangerously high on my thigh. My breath caught as he nuzzled my groin, my belly, my hipbone.

“Turn over,” he muttered and I got up on my knees, resting my face on my forearms, crossed on the back of the couch.

One hand slipped under my shirt, fingers digging almost painfully into my flesh.

“You’ve got a gorgeous arse,” he whispered, leaning over me and kissing the back of my neck. “Toned, gorgeous.”

“It’s all the Quidditch training,” I giggled, flexing my toned cheeks and trapping him as he slid his fingers between them.

He moaned and I felt his hot breath against my neck and I shivered.

His cock rubbed against my thigh and I pressed back onto his fingers, which slipped lower and finally inside me, leaving his thumb brushing back and forth between my cheeks.

He moved closer and his cock slid between my parted thighs.

“Yes,” I hissed encouragingly and his fingers left me, holding my folds apart as his cock pressed into me.

“Fuckyes,” he moaned, one hand gripping my hip and the other caressing my arse as he withdrew and surged back.

I arched my back, knowing how much he liked to touch me while he took me from behind like that, and his fingers slid between my cheeks again, using my own juices to gently penetrate me.

He pressed downwards, inside me, and moaned as he felt his cock slide past his fingertip.

He’d once admitted, while very drunk, that he’d go for a threesome with another bloke, and I think he imagines his cock is rubbing against someone else’s, inside me.

He hasn’t mentioned it since, and I’m not going to bring up the subject. Maybe one day. Although I can’t imagine who we’d find – who can you ask to take your girlfriend from behind, while you fuck her?

His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his finger hooked inside me, as I tightened my muscles around him, squeezing hard, and he came with a muffled shout and buried his face in my hair.

Carefully slipping from my body, he fell onto the couch, pulling me down on top of him and raising a knee between my legs, for me to rub myself against.

“Harry,” I moaned, my hands tangled in his hair as I ground my clit against his hard muscled thigh.

“Hmm,” he sighed, pulling my face down to his. “Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and kissed him deeply, sucking on the tongue that slipped into my mouth as I bucked harder and faster, finally seeing stars and collapsing in his arms.

<’))))><

Harry's POV
I showered as quickly as possible after combat training and jogged up the stairs, hurrying over to the Floo queue in the atrium.

I stepped into the fireplace and stumbled out into Ginny’s flat.

She bounced off the couch and over to me, brushing the soot off me and reaching up for a kiss.

“Good day?” she asked, dragging me over to the couch, clasping my hand and squeezing my poor, bruised knuckles.

I yelped and showed her my injury.

Ron and I are, thankfully, almost finished Auror training, because the physical combat course is going to finish me off. It’s not all that tough, really, it’s just that I’m not coping very well with being partnered with Ron. I’d had to desperately squirm out from under him, as my cock reacted to his body pressing me into the floor, and the punch I’d thrown had been blocked by the brickwork, rather than his face.

“Did you punch Ron again?” she asked, snuggling against my side.

“You know that was an accident,” I said, my hand running through her hair.

I loved her new, shorter, haircut; it made her look much more like her brother.

“Shall we go out for something to eat?” I asked guiltily.

“I c’n make something, you know,” she pouted. “I won’t poison you.”

“Maybe later,” I said, giving up, tipping her face up to me and bending to kiss her.

She smiled and looked up at me, but her eyes were warm brown, not bright blue.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered, against her lips, and she obeyed.

I kissed her deeply, thrusting into her mouth as she parted her lips, hushing her murmurs of pleasure and pushing her back on the couch, my hands tangled in her bright red hair.

I hate myself for it, but after being pressed up against Ron’s body for three hours of combat training, I am always so aroused I could explode, and I sprawled on top of her, our legs tangled, my erection grinding against her thigh.

My hand ran down her body, hooking her leg up and over my hip and caressing her muscled thigh. She’s always so tight and toned from Quidditch training, and has a strong, athletic body.

I pressed down on her hipbone, holding her down on the couch, rocking against her and thinking of Ron.

Her eyelids fluttered and I frowned at the sliver of brown and at what a bastard I was, then slid off the couch to undress.

She stroked my chest, with her blunt nailed, callused, Quidditch player’s fingers and I tugged off her jeans and knickers off, bending to kiss her thigh.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t take her like that, her breasts crushed between us, not when I wanted him so much I could cry.

“Turn over,” I muttered and she knelt before me, her arse covered by the tail of her shirt.

I slipped my hand up, under the shirt, my fingers digging into her flesh.

“You’ve got a gorgeous arse,” I whispered, leaning over her and kissing the back of her neck, nuzzling the short, red hair. “Toned, gorgeous.”

Just like Ron’s.

“It’s all the Quidditch training,” she giggled, flexing her cheeks and trapping my fingers between them.

I moaned at the feeling, rubbing my cock against her and running my thumb over her hole as I slipped my fingers down and inside her.

She was so wet and I grabbed my cock and slid it easily between her folds.

“Fuckyes,” I moaned, as her heat surrounded me.

I caressed her arse until she arched her back, parting her cheeks for me, and I used her juices to slick my fingers and press into her arse.

Inside her, I could feel my cock slide past my fingertips and I groaned.

I’d once admitted, while very drunk, that I’d go for a threesome with another bloke, but she must never know I imagine Ron’s cock inside me, driving me into her.

At the thought, my thrusts became harder and more erratic, and I hooked my fingers inside her, rubbing my cock as she tightened around me, squeezing hard, and I came, burying my face in her hair as I tried not to shout Ron’s name.

Slipping my cock and fingers from her body, I collapsed onto the couch, raising a knee between her thighs and holding her tight as she rubbed against me.

“Harry,” she moaned, eyes bright as she ground against my thigh.

“Hmm,” I sighed, pulling her face down to kiss her. “Close your eyes.”

She closed them and I imagined blue eyes above me as she writhed, bucking harder and faster until she reached her climax.

And I wrapped my arms around her and loved him and hated myself.