Erotica - H/R - NC-17
Title: Erotica
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 624
Rating: NC-17

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


Erotica
****
Harry opened the drawer and peeped at the magazine for the twentieth time.

He sighed, adjusted his trousers, and tried to go back to his paperwork, tried to ignore Seamus sitting on the corner of Ron's desk.

Ron laughed loudly, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling.

Harry sighed again.

"Here you go," Tonks said cheerfully, coming into their cubicle and dropping a huge pile of paperwork on his desk.

Harry grabbed the nearest folder, to cover his lap. "What's this for?" he asked.

"Filing, junior auror Potter," she smirked.

"I'm busy," Seamus said swiftly, ruffling Ron's hair as he left.

"C'mon," Harry said, opening the drawer and slipping the magazine in amongst the papers.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Filing, junior auror Weasley," Harry said.

Ron got to his feet, grumbling good naturedly as he followed Harry down the corridor, watching his arse, to the department archives.

"Couldn't you do this on your own?" he asked, as Harry dumped the folders on a desk and closed the door.

"I could," Harry replied. "But it wouldn't be as much fun."

He dug out the magazine and held it out to his partner.

"Bugger me with a fishfork," Ron gasped, grabbing it from him. "It's Viktor!"

Harry came to stand at his shoulder, and they watched the picture together.

They watched as the dark haired man turned and looked over his shoulder, as that familiar profile was presented to the camera, dark eyes flashing as the camera panned down his back.

Down his bare skin; lying naked on a bear skin rug.

Over a ridiculously edible arse.

"What the fuck?" Ron whispered, as Viktor half turned onto his side, one thigh raised to hide anything that wasn't allowed to be shown on the cover of Playwitch.

"Hermione never told us about this," Ron muttered.

"Look at the centrefold," Harry said.

Ron tore his eyes away from the magazine. "He's the centrefold?" he gasped.

"Just look," Harry said, pressing the heel of his hand against the bulge in his jeans.

Ron leafed frantically through the magazine, opening it at the centrefold and whistling between his teeth.

Viktor was still on the rug, but he had turned over.

He was staring into the camera; his legs were splayed; one hand was behind his back, propping him up.

The other held a Snitch in front of his erection; as they watched, he repeatedly let it go, allowed them a glimpse of his cock, and caught it again with a smirk.

"Fuck," Ron breathed. "Hermione never told us about this."

"There's more," Harry said.

"More?" Ron croaked, his eyes still on the Snitch.

Harry took the magazine from Ron's hand and dropped it on the table.

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Um," Harry said, then turned and locked the door with a whispered spell.

"Don't lock the door," Ron squeaked.

"Why not?" Harry said.

"That'll look suspicious, if anyone tries the handle," Ron complained.

"More suspicious than if they catch me going down on you?" Harry asked.

"Well, yeah," Ron said.

Harry blinked at him. "Imagine you are doing a Wronski Feint," he said, unbuckling Ron's belt.

Ron's eyes flicked down, then back up to Harry's eyes.

"Imagine how you have to lean right forward, flat to your broom," Harry murmured, unzipping Ron's jeans and pushing them down over his hips.

Ron swallowed.

"Imagine a camera is mounted in your broom's bristles," Harry smirked, freeing Ron's cock from his boxers and stroking him firmly.

Ron nodded.

"And you're naked," Harry whispered, dropping to his knees.

"No fucking way," Ron gasped. "They do not have pictures…"

"Oh, but they do." Harry smiled. "Right up his arse, balls bouncing on the Cushioning Charm."

"Fuck!" Ron whimpered as Harry finally took him in his mouth.


My Table.