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shocfix ([info]shocfix) wrote,
@ 2005-03-01 01:28:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Sound - H/R - NC-17
Title: Sound
Author: [info]shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 454
Rating: NC-17

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


Sound
****
For all Tristan wasn't officially present, his whispered suggestions and the props he slipped into the bed were keeping their foreplay going far longer than usual.

They could have both been shagged out and snoring, by now, and Harry had made a hazy lust filled note to himself to try and remember some of the things they had tried.

They weren't even naked, yet. He had unbuttoned and removed Ron shirt, hands and lips worshipping every inch of skin, as it was revealed.

Now Harry was kneeling in the middle of the bed; his shirt was long gone and his jeans were unzipped, his erection straining at the buttons on his black silk boxers..

Ron had been about to help him out of his jeans, when Tristan had leant forward and handed him a silken blindfold.

Ron had run it through his fingers and Harry had ached.

Their eyes had met and the look on Ron's face as Harry had bowed his head and closed his eyes had been almost enough to push him over the edge, without Ron even touching him.

It meant so much to Ron that Harry would submit to him, like that, and he gently tied the cloth over Harry's eyes before leaning in for a kiss.

"Mine," he whispered against Harry's lips.

"Yours," Harry whispered back.

He had sat back on his heels, spreading his knees, expecting Ron to touch him, wanting Ron's hands on him, but Ron had backed away.

Feeling rather vulnerable, sightless, with his trousers undone, he had reached blindly for Ron, his heart racing.

"No," Ron said, just out of his reach, and he heard Ron's trousers being unzipped.

"Ron?" he whispered.

"Hush," Ron murmured. "Just listen."

Harry's hand fell to his lap and he cocked his head, listening carefully.

Listening to the sound of Ron freeing his cock and hissing as his hand closed around it.

Listening to the sounds of Ron's hand stroking and tugging.

To his breaths puffing out through his nose.

To the tiny moans in the back of his throat.

Harry's hand unconsciously moved to his own cock, swiftly unbuttoning his boxers and slipping inside.

He squeezed his shaft and groaned.

"Yes," Ron hissed.

Harry pushed his boxers out of the way with one hand, arching his back as his other hand helped his cock strain towards Ron.

He parted his knees further and stroked himself, knowing exactly what Ron was doing.

Picturing Ron.

Knowing how he must look: eyes half-closed, jaw set, head tipped back, hand moving faster, his thumb teasing the head, his other hand running over his chest.

Knowing Ron.

Just from the sounds that were as familiar to him as the sound of his own breathing.


My Table.


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