Spanking - H/R - NC-17
Title: Spanking
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 633
Rating: NC-17

A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.


Spanking
****
They trailed all the way up the stairs to Ron's bedroom, shoulders sunburned, well fed and sleepy.

Ron groaned when he saw the camp bed his mother had set up for Harry.

"She's unbellievable," Ron complained. "How long do we have to be together, beore we get a double bed?"

"I dunno," Harry said, sitting on Ron's bed and toing off his trainers. "I kind of like it."

"You like being squished into a single bed?" Ron asked, stepping out of his jeans.

"Squished up against you? Yes."

Ron grinned and rolled his eyes.

"And anyway," Harry said and then shrugged and looked away.

"Anyway, what?" Ron asked, sitting beside him.

"It's like before," Harry said.

"Before what?"

"Before we were together," Harry explained. "When I'd lie in the camp bed, listening to you breathing, desperate to touch myself."

"Are you saying you wanked in here, while I slept?" Ron asked, looking shocked. "Innocently; not realising my best mate had wicked thoughts about me."

"I may have done," Harry said, leaning back as Ron loomed over him.

"You stroked your cock and fantasised about me?" Ron said, wrapping his arms round Harry's chest.

"Yes," Harry murmured, smiling at the indignation on Ron's face.

"Dreamt of being able to touch me?" Ron whispered against his lips, sliding one hand down to unzip Harry's trousers and stroke him with gentle fingers.

"Oh yeah," Harry breathed, tipping his face up for a kiss and squeaking when Ron grabbed him, and pulled him, face down, across his lap.

"I am shocked," Ron said solemnly, running his hand over Harry's arse.

Harry snorted.

Ron tugged hard on Harry's trousers and boxers, pulling them down to round his knees.

Harry held his breath.

"You big city types," Ron said, one hand tracing circles on Harry's arse, the other holding him firmly in place. "Coming down here and taking advantage of a poor country boy."

Harry laughed.

"Think that's funny, do you?" Ron said, his fingers stilling and digging into Harry's cheeks.

"Hmmm," Harry said. "What about all the haystacks you can hide in, down here? I'm sure you poor country boys aren't as innocent as you make out."

Ron tutted.

"There's poor innocent me," Harry said, wiggling under Ron's hand. "Lying there, never been touched, dreaming of you, and you're dreaming of Lavender."

Ron drew back his hand and smacked Harry, hard, across both cheeks.

Harry gasped.

"Take that back," Ron said. "I never dreamt of Lavender."

"No," Harry muttered. "You couldn't wait to get back to school; your tongue down her throat, her hand down your…"

Another, harder blow.

"Take it back, Harry," Ron whispered, his hand soothing the reddening cheeks, his thumb slipping between them.

"Never," Harry whispered, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Ron's blows covered his arse and thighs. "You still dream about her."

"I never dreamt about her," Ron complained, pushing Harry's trousers down over his feet and spreading his legs.

"All that Christmas," Harry moaned, arching up into Ron's hand as he stroked him.

Ron slapped him again, before reaching between his legs and cupping his balls.

"Next summer was worse," Harry whispered. "Talking about Fleur in your sleep."

Ron tangled his hand in Harry's hair and pushed his head down, pressing his face against his thigh to shut him up. "That is a lie," he said flatly.

"Ah, but I was here, in the next bed," Harry murmured into his skin, as Ron's fingers ran between his cheeks, his thumb brushing back and forth across his entrance.

"I didn't dream about Fleur," Ron whispered, his fingers stroking Harry's sore cheeks before pressing inside him.

"Did," Harry whimpered. "Want you… so beautiful… we can't…"

"Not Fleur, you idiot," Ron said, as Harry writhed in his lap. "I dreamt about you."


My Table.