In Drag - H/R - NC-17
Title: In Drag
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 564
Rating: NC-17

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


In Drag
****
Class B non-tradables were being sold in a Muggle nightclub, and, as soon as Kingsley mentioned that some of the club's 'hostesses' were men in drag, Ron's hand shot up to volunteer.

Rolling his eyes and ignoring the six foot three inch red head, Kingsley had selected Harry and Susan to work undercover at the club, and Ron and Seamus to become regular customers.

Harry had hoped that Ron would be as jealous of his customers as he had been of Myfanwy's, but Ron was too torn between laughing at his predicament and dropping things to make him bend down and flash his knickers.

Susan had spent a giggly afternoon teaching him to dress and walk in heels and, much as he felt like an idiot, he also felt Ron's eyes on his legs all evening, which was nice.

Ron and Seamus sat in a booth, drinking and tipping heavily at the department's expense and regularly casting sobering charms on each other.

Harry brought them yet another round and sat in Ron's lap, pouting at them.

"You're both drinking too much," he complained, as Ron's hand slipped under his short skirt and stroked his arse through his silky knickers.

"We're good customers," Seamus pointed out. "Your boss would have us kicked out if we nursed a sad and solitary beer all evening."

Harry snorted.

"D'you have to let all your customers feel you up?" Seamus smirked, nodding at Ron's hand as it crept up Harry's leg.

"Only the best tippers," Harry said, winking.

A suspender clad thigh stopped at their table.

"Anyone but me actually on the job?" Susan asked. "Seamus, come in the back for me, will you?"

Seamus raised an ostentatiously suggestive eyebrow and Susan snorted.

"Not gonna happen, Finnegan," she said.

"I can come in the front, if you prefer," Seamus leered, yelping as she pinched him and led him away.

Harry laughter died in his throat as Ron's fingers reached his cock.

"How far are you allowed to go with customers, Harry?" he whispered.

"What are you planning?" Harry asked.

"I'm planning on you just looking like we're flirting, while I bring you off under the table," Ron said.

"Ron, no," Harry said, trying to squirm away from Ron's hand, but Ron wrapped his other arm round Harry's waist and smiled innocently.

"Ron, yes," he said firmly, freeing Harry's cock and stroking it.

Harry bit his lip and squeaked.

Ron's smile widened.

"I'm gonna pay you back for this," Harry whispered, running his fingertips down Ron's cheek and across his lips and trying to look as flirtatious as possible while subtly spreading his legs.

"What sort of threat is that?" Ron scoffed, stroking harder and faster and not looking remotely hot and bothered, while Harry tried desperately not to thrust up into his hand. "You're welcome to ravish me whenever you want."

"You're gonna get me into such trouble," Harry gasped, his hand tangling in Ron's hair and pulling hard.

"You're gorgeous."

"You're impossible."

"You're gonna come for me."

Harry came, gritting his teeth to stop crying out and closing his eyes as he shot over Ron's hand and his own stocking tops.

"Fuck, Harry," Ron murmured, stealing a swift kiss. "You're brilliant."

He Tergeoed away the mess and Harry staggered to his stilettoed feet.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" he asked.

"Get me a bourbon, would'ya babe?"

****
OK, I'll try and stop ending everything with that line, but it won't be easy!!!


My Table.