shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-03-01 01:50:00 |
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Happily Ever After - H/R - NC-17
Wow.
My 50_smutlets table is now complete.
This one is very sappy, and is exactly 1000 words, to take the total for the whole thing to 30,000 words.
Because I am that anal and that sad.
And it is over.
Title: Happily Ever After
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 1000
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Happily Ever After
****
They Flooed home after their day at the Burrow, knee deep in Weasleys.
If he was completely honest, Harry could never remember which small Weasley belonged to which large one – although he was pretty sure he had the wives straight.
Straight.
He carried Molly's food parcel into the kitchen and shoved it in the larder.
Taking two beers from the fridge, he looked at Ron over the perfect arse height breakfast bar.
Ron was sprawled on the couch, taking up far too much room and making his heart ache.
Harry wandered through to the lounge and handed Ron his bottle.
“Cheers,” Ron muttered, taking a long pull.
“Your family is loud, mate,” Harry said, picking up Ron's feet, sitting down and dropping them in his lap.
Ron snorted. “Tell me something I don't know,” he said, laughing.
“It's great, though,” Harry said.
Ron shrugged one shoulder and grunted. “I s'pose,” he admitted.
“Isn't that… don't you…” Harry huffed and Ron raised an eyebrow. “Don't you feel you've given something up?”
Ron looked confused. “The noise?” he asked.
“The family,” Harry said.
Ron frowned. “Not in the ten minutes since I last saw them, no,” he said slowly, sitting up. “What am I missing?”
“Your brothers are all married and stuff,” Harry said vaguely. “And you've got… me.”
“I love you,” Ron said.
Harry smiled.
“But you must have always thought you'd get married, someday,” he pressed.
“Are you proposing?” Ron asked.
“No, you daft sod,” Harry complained. “I just mean that you gave it up… for me.”
“Well, I don't know why you imagine me as a little girl, dreaming about my perfect wedding,” Ron said. “'Cos I didn't. I might have vaguely thought of stuff like that, when I was with Hermione, but I don't care about big weddings and poufy dresses and itchy robes and dancing and… and I didn't give anything up for you. Except being lonely and miserable and wanting you, so what the fuck are you worried about?”
Harry snorted. “OK, not weddings, then, but a family.”
“I've still got a family.”
“Stop being so dense,” Harry snapped. “I mean your own family; children.”
Ron blinked. “When did I ever say I wanted children?”
“You're great with children,” Harry complained. “Everyone's favourite uncle.”
“Yeah, because that's fun,” Ron said. “You can just feed them sweets and twirl them until they're dizzy, and then give them back to Fred. That's brilliant.”
“You'd be a brilliant dad.”
“Harry?” Ron said. “Are you gonna tell me you're pregnant?”
“Fuck off,” Harry snapped. “Why can't I just be worried about you?”
“And the mythical wife and nine children you're depriving me of?”
Harry grunted. “Something like that.”
“Look, you idiot,” Ron said. “My family are great, in small doses. But I come back here, to our flat, and thank any god you care to name that we're alone.”
“Really?”
“Of course, really, you lunatic,” Ron huffed. “When have I ever said otherwise?”
“Well, you haven't said,” Harry admitted. “I just… I don't see how I can be enough… for ever.”
Ron snorted. “Close your eyes,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because you are getting on my nerves, and I say so!”
Harry closed his eyes.
“Imagine you are having sex,” Ron said.
“Hmmm,” Harry said, his mouth tipping up at the corner in a half-smile.
“Tell me what you're doing.”
“Lying in our bed… beneath you… with you surging over me… into me.”
“Open them.”
Harry opened his eyes and blinked.
“Ask me what I see,” Ron said gently.
“What d'you see, Ron?”
“I see you, you idiot,” Ron said. “For ever. Lying under me; over me; behind me; inside me. You. That is more than enough, more than I dared hope for.”
Harry managed a tiny smile.
"I mean," Ron said. "There are, what, six billion people in the world? Statistically speaking, my soul mate is likely to be a tiny, wizened tuna fisherman in the Pacific, somewhere."
Harry snorted.
"What are the odds that we're best mates and I fall for you, and you love me back?"
"You soft git," Harry muttered.
"Well, this is the effect you have on me," Ron pouted. "Are you proud?"
"Actually, yes."
Ron reached for his hand, interlacing their fingers. "Good."
"What are the odds anyone loves me, back or otherwise?" Harry said ruefully. "And that it's you."
"We all love you," Ron said, tugging on Harry's hand.
"Hmmm," Harry said, climbing into Ron's lap and sitting astride him.
"Our friends, our family," Ron said cupping Harry's face and kissing him. "And especially me."
"Bill, too?" Harry asked hopefully, unzipping Ron's jeans and slipping his hand inside.
Ron snorted. "I always knew you had a thing for Bill," he said. "Used to cry myself to sleep."
"Idiot," Harry chided, freeing his own cock and pressing it up against Ron's.
"Lovesick idiot," Ron corrected, sighing and wrapping his hand round their erections.
"It's just 'cos he's…"
"Yeah, I know, cool," Ron interrupted, squeezing them. "You really went on about him in fourth year."
"'Cos he's the most like you," Harry said firmly, thrusting into Ron's hand. "'Cos I hoped you'd grow up to be that gorgeous."
"Oh," Ron said, his ears flushing.
"Shame I was wrong," Harry said.
Ron tugged hard on Harry's cock and he yelped.
"You're the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen," Harry murmured, sealing their mouths together in a desperate kiss as Ron stroked them towards their climaxes.
Harry tipped his head back and gasped Ron's name and Ron sucked on his neck and tugged harder and Harry spilt over his fingers, jerking and whimpering in his arms.
"So fucking beautiful," Ron murmured.
Harry's hand closed over his.
"Come for me," he whispered.
"Only for you," Ron said.
Their eyes locked and Harry stroked Ron's cock, slippery with his own seed, until Ron cried out, his come hitting Harry in the chest.
Harry kissed him gently.
"Love you," Ron said.
"Love you," Harry whispered.
"Course you do," Ron smiled.
My Table.
Wow.
My 50_smutlets table is now complete.
This one is very sappy, and is exactly 1000 words, to take the total for the whole thing to 30,000 words.
Because I am that anal and that sad.
And it is over.
Title: Happily Ever After
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 1000
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Happily Ever After
****
They Flooed home after their day at the Burrow, knee deep in Weasleys.
If he was completely honest, Harry could never remember which small Weasley belonged to which large one – although he was pretty sure he had the wives straight.
Straight.
He carried Molly's food parcel into the kitchen and shoved it in the larder.
Taking two beers from the fridge, he looked at Ron over the perfect arse height breakfast bar.
Ron was sprawled on the couch, taking up far too much room and making his heart ache.
Harry wandered through to the lounge and handed Ron his bottle.
“Cheers,” Ron muttered, taking a long pull.
“Your family is loud, mate,” Harry said, picking up Ron's feet, sitting down and dropping them in his lap.
Ron snorted. “Tell me something I don't know,” he said, laughing.
“It's great, though,” Harry said.
Ron shrugged one shoulder and grunted. “I s'pose,” he admitted.
“Isn't that… don't you…” Harry huffed and Ron raised an eyebrow. “Don't you feel you've given something up?”
Ron looked confused. “The noise?” he asked.
“The family,” Harry said.
Ron frowned. “Not in the ten minutes since I last saw them, no,” he said slowly, sitting up. “What am I missing?”
“Your brothers are all married and stuff,” Harry said vaguely. “And you've got… me.”
“I love you,” Ron said.
Harry smiled.
“But you must have always thought you'd get married, someday,” he pressed.
“Are you proposing?” Ron asked.
“No, you daft sod,” Harry complained. “I just mean that you gave it up… for me.”
“Well, I don't know why you imagine me as a little girl, dreaming about my perfect wedding,” Ron said. “'Cos I didn't. I might have vaguely thought of stuff like that, when I was with Hermione, but I don't care about big weddings and poufy dresses and itchy robes and dancing and… and I didn't give anything up for you. Except being lonely and miserable and wanting you, so what the fuck are you worried about?”
Harry snorted. “OK, not weddings, then, but a family.”
“I've still got a family.”
“Stop being so dense,” Harry snapped. “I mean your own family; children.”
Ron blinked. “When did I ever say I wanted children?”
“You're great with children,” Harry complained. “Everyone's favourite uncle.”
“Yeah, because that's fun,” Ron said. “You can just feed them sweets and twirl them until they're dizzy, and then give them back to Fred. That's brilliant.”
“You'd be a brilliant dad.”
“Harry?” Ron said. “Are you gonna tell me you're pregnant?”
“Fuck off,” Harry snapped. “Why can't I just be worried about you?”
“And the mythical wife and nine children you're depriving me of?”
Harry grunted. “Something like that.”
“Look, you idiot,” Ron said. “My family are great, in small doses. But I come back here, to our flat, and thank any god you care to name that we're alone.”
“Really?”
“Of course, really, you lunatic,” Ron huffed. “When have I ever said otherwise?”
“Well, you haven't said,” Harry admitted. “I just… I don't see how I can be enough… for ever.”
Ron snorted. “Close your eyes,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because you are getting on my nerves, and I say so!”
Harry closed his eyes.
“Imagine you are having sex,” Ron said.
“Hmmm,” Harry said, his mouth tipping up at the corner in a half-smile.
“Tell me what you're doing.”
“Lying in our bed… beneath you… with you surging over me… into me.”
“Open them.”
Harry opened his eyes and blinked.
“Ask me what I see,” Ron said gently.
“What d'you see, Ron?”
“I see you, you idiot,” Ron said. “For ever. Lying under me; over me; behind me; inside me. You. That is more than enough, more than I dared hope for.”
Harry managed a tiny smile.
"I mean," Ron said. "There are, what, six billion people in the world? Statistically speaking, my soul mate is likely to be a tiny, wizened tuna fisherman in the Pacific, somewhere."
Harry snorted.
"What are the odds that we're best mates and I fall for you, and you love me back?"
"You soft git," Harry muttered.
"Well, this is the effect you have on me," Ron pouted. "Are you proud?"
"Actually, yes."
Ron reached for his hand, interlacing their fingers. "Good."
"What are the odds anyone loves me, back or otherwise?" Harry said ruefully. "And that it's you."
"We all love you," Ron said, tugging on Harry's hand.
"Hmmm," Harry said, climbing into Ron's lap and sitting astride him.
"Our friends, our family," Ron said cupping Harry's face and kissing him. "And especially me."
"Bill, too?" Harry asked hopefully, unzipping Ron's jeans and slipping his hand inside.
Ron snorted. "I always knew you had a thing for Bill," he said. "Used to cry myself to sleep."
"Idiot," Harry chided, freeing his own cock and pressing it up against Ron's.
"Lovesick idiot," Ron corrected, sighing and wrapping his hand round their erections.
"It's just 'cos he's…"
"Yeah, I know, cool," Ron interrupted, squeezing them. "You really went on about him in fourth year."
"'Cos he's the most like you," Harry said firmly, thrusting into Ron's hand. "'Cos I hoped you'd grow up to be that gorgeous."
"Oh," Ron said, his ears flushing.
"Shame I was wrong," Harry said.
Ron tugged hard on Harry's cock and he yelped.
"You're the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen," Harry murmured, sealing their mouths together in a desperate kiss as Ron stroked them towards their climaxes.
Harry tipped his head back and gasped Ron's name and Ron sucked on his neck and tugged harder and Harry spilt over his fingers, jerking and whimpering in his arms.
"So fucking beautiful," Ron murmured.
Harry's hand closed over his.
"Come for me," he whispered.
"Only for you," Ron said.
Their eyes locked and Harry stroked Ron's cock, slippery with his own seed, until Ron cried out, his come hitting Harry in the chest.
Harry kissed him gently.
"Love you," Ron said.
"Love you," Harry whispered.
"Course you do," Ron smiled.
My Table.