shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-03-01 01:47:00 |
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Silk Sheets - H/R - NC-17
Title: Silk Sheets
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 520
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Silk Sheets
****
Harry arrived home from work on his birthday and slumped onto the couch.
Ron had snuck off early, and Harry was sure he was planning something, but he was knackered and couldn't think of anything he wanted more than an early night.
To blow out the lamp and hide from the bright orange sheets he had left Ron wrapped up in that morning.
He toed off his trainers and glared at a hole in his sock.
Well, that wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.
He waggled it and tried to get up the energy to change into his Cannons pyjamas and fall fast asleep.
Even Ron wouldn't want his big toe.
Where was Ron, anyway?
With a huge effort, he hauled himself upright and wandered into the bathroom. Maybe a shower would wake him up a bit? It'd be a shame to fall asleep during whatever Ron had planned.
Most of his clothes reached the laundry basket, which had to jump to catch his boxers, and he stood under the hot water, eyes closed as it beat down on his shoulders.
Maybe Ron had just popped out for a take away, and they could curl up with a curry and have an early night.
Yeah. Maybe.
He wrapped one towel round his waist and opened the door to their bedroom, towelling his hair dry.
He blinked.
There was no smell of dirty socks.
The Cannons lantern had been replaced with candles.
The violent orange sheets had been replaced with black silk.
The Quidditch robes left on the bed had been replaced with a naked Ron Weasley.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Happy Birthday," Ron said.
He lay on his side, leaning on an elbow, his head propped on his hand; his freckled skin stood out against the black sheets, especially the long fingers stroking an impressive erection.
"Is that for me?" Harry asked, sitting beside Ron on the bed and running his hand over a sharp hipbone.
"Course," Ron said, abandoning his cock to tug at Harry's towel.
"How did you know what I wanted?" Harry asked.
"I asked Susan," Ron smirked. "The two of you got so close, working undercover."
"You're so funny," Harry murmured.
"I suggested Cannons tickets," Ron went on, running his hand up Harry's thigh and prodding his slumbering cock. "But she suggested getting you naked and sweaty on black silk sheets."
"Did she?" Harry asked.
"She had some rather odd suggestions about breasts swinging above your face and stuff," Ron said, leaning down to lap daintily at Harry's cock as it stirred. "So any arse involvement is entirely my idea."
Harry laughed.
Ron pushed him back onto the bed and knelt between his legs and Harry sighed as Ron took him in his mouth again.
"You've given this some though, have you?" Harry said, eyes fluttering closed as Ron's hands slid beneath him and cupped his cheeks.
"Ay awgay chik agow yor arch," Ron rumbled, as Harry's cock hardened.
"Hmmm?"
"I always think about your arse," Ron said. "I love your arse."
"Be my guest," Harry said. "I love it when you love my arse."
My Table.
Title: Silk Sheets
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 520
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Silk Sheets
****
Harry arrived home from work on his birthday and slumped onto the couch.
Ron had snuck off early, and Harry was sure he was planning something, but he was knackered and couldn't think of anything he wanted more than an early night.
To blow out the lamp and hide from the bright orange sheets he had left Ron wrapped up in that morning.
He toed off his trainers and glared at a hole in his sock.
Well, that wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.
He waggled it and tried to get up the energy to change into his Cannons pyjamas and fall fast asleep.
Even Ron wouldn't want his big toe.
Where was Ron, anyway?
With a huge effort, he hauled himself upright and wandered into the bathroom. Maybe a shower would wake him up a bit? It'd be a shame to fall asleep during whatever Ron had planned.
Most of his clothes reached the laundry basket, which had to jump to catch his boxers, and he stood under the hot water, eyes closed as it beat down on his shoulders.
Maybe Ron had just popped out for a take away, and they could curl up with a curry and have an early night.
Yeah. Maybe.
He wrapped one towel round his waist and opened the door to their bedroom, towelling his hair dry.
He blinked.
There was no smell of dirty socks.
The Cannons lantern had been replaced with candles.
The violent orange sheets had been replaced with black silk.
The Quidditch robes left on the bed had been replaced with a naked Ron Weasley.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Happy Birthday," Ron said.
He lay on his side, leaning on an elbow, his head propped on his hand; his freckled skin stood out against the black sheets, especially the long fingers stroking an impressive erection.
"Is that for me?" Harry asked, sitting beside Ron on the bed and running his hand over a sharp hipbone.
"Course," Ron said, abandoning his cock to tug at Harry's towel.
"How did you know what I wanted?" Harry asked.
"I asked Susan," Ron smirked. "The two of you got so close, working undercover."
"You're so funny," Harry murmured.
"I suggested Cannons tickets," Ron went on, running his hand up Harry's thigh and prodding his slumbering cock. "But she suggested getting you naked and sweaty on black silk sheets."
"Did she?" Harry asked.
"She had some rather odd suggestions about breasts swinging above your face and stuff," Ron said, leaning down to lap daintily at Harry's cock as it stirred. "So any arse involvement is entirely my idea."
Harry laughed.
Ron pushed him back onto the bed and knelt between his legs and Harry sighed as Ron took him in his mouth again.
"You've given this some though, have you?" Harry said, eyes fluttering closed as Ron's hands slid beneath him and cupped his cheeks.
"Ay awgay chik agow yor arch," Ron rumbled, as Harry's cock hardened.
"Hmmm?"
"I always think about your arse," Ron said. "I love your arse."
"Be my guest," Harry said. "I love it when you love my arse."
My Table.