On Camera - H/R - NC-17
Title: On Camera
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 611
Rating: NC-17

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


On Camera
****
Harry tried to floo home from work, only to be spat back out, as their fireplace was busy.

With a grimace, he Apparated to their front door and stomped inside.

Where he was instantly cheered up by the sight that met him, and he sat on the couch for ten minutes, admiring Ron's arse as he knelt on the hearth, with his head in the fire.

Ron finally finished his call and sat back on his heels.

"Harry," he said happily. "You're home!"

He came over to claim a kiss, and Harry sighed into his mouth.

"You know what I hate about being a wizard?" he asked, hooking his fingers through Ron's belt loops to hold him in place.

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"I hate the robes," Harry explained. "Your arse looks so good in tight jeans."

Ron laughed and kissed him again.

"Funny you should say that," he said, sitting beside Harry and fiddling with his shirt cuffs.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I was on the floo to a photographer at Playwitch," Ron said.

"No," Harry said flatly.

"No, what?" Ron demanded. "You haven't even heard my idea."

"The Boy Who Stripped," Harry muttered.

"No," Ron protested.

"The Chosen Arse?"

Ron glared at him.

Harry sighed. "OK, what's your idea?"

"Why d'you think it's always about you?" Ron asked. "You say you hate being the centre of attention, yet you think I'm organising a naked photo shoot for you. Maybe I want the world to see my arse."

He folded his arms and slumped back on the couch.

Harry frowned. "I… I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Ron snorted.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

"Are you really going to show the world your arse?" Harry asked.

"What would you care?" Ron pouted.

"Are you?"

Ron shrugged.

"I… um… I'm not sure I'd like it, you know," Harry said carefully.

Ron huffed.

"Well, it… it's your arse," Harry muttered.

"That's the thing, though," Ron said. "It's not just my arse, is it?"

Harry frowned. "Whose else's is it?" he asked. "You've taken in lodgers?"

"In a way," Ron said. "It's your Chosen Arse, isn't it?"

"My…. Oh, Ron!" Harry half laughed.

"And the pictures of Viktor were really, well, hot, and I wanted you to have pictures like that of me… of us, together."

"Together?" Harry squeaked.

"This photographer," Ron said. "Hermione recommended him; he's the one who did Viktor's pictures, and they had final say on what he could use, and he did some even filthier ones, just for Hermione."

"You want us to…"

"And he'll take photographs," Ron interrupted.

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

"Ron, that's…"

"…hot?"

"Yeah," Harry breathed.

"So, you'll do it?" Ron asked, moving closer and licking his lips.

"I… yeah, if you want me to."

"D'you reckon we should, you know, practice some stuff?" Ron said, unzipping his jeans and wriggling out of them.

"Practice?"

"Well, we need to decide what kind of stuff we want to do on camera, don't we?" Ron said, swiftly shedding the rest of his clothes.

"We don't have to tell him what we're gonna do, do we?" Harry asked, standing up to steal a kiss and running his hands over Ron's arse.

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Well, I am not gonna say 'and now I'm gonna eat Ron's arse', I'm just gonna bend you over the couch and use my mouth on you, and he can get the picture, and get the pictures."

And, matching actions to his words, he turned Ron round and shoved him in the small of the back.

"Very subtle," Ron laughed, kneeling on the cushions and folding his arms on the back of the couch.


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