Kitchen - H/R - NC-17
Title: Kitchen
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 610
Rating: NC-17

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


Kitchen
****
Harry and Hermione stepped out of the fireplace, into his lounge, took what they though would be a first soot-free breath, and doubled over, coughing.

Harry looked round, through streaming eyes, as Hermione managed to non-verbally clear the air of the clouds of dust swirling around them.

There were piles of bricks on the carpet, and a layer of red dust, everywhere.

Harry did a startled double-take – was this really his flat?

"Oh, good, you're back," said a cheerful voice from the kitchen.

They both stared at Ron.

Through the large hole, where a wall used to be.

Ron was bare chested, and carrying a sledgehammer.

He was dripping with sweat and covered in a layer of brick dust that looked like extra freckles.

He wiped his face with a large hand, leaving red streaks across his cheeks.

"I'll see you later," Harry said to Hermione, without turning to look at her.

"Don't hurt him," she laughed. "I'm sure there is a good explanation."

"Later," Harry repeated, his eyes not leaving Ron as he stalked into the kitchen.

Hermione Flooed away in a swirl of flames.

"What d'ya think?" Ron asked proudly.

"Where is the wall?" Harry asked faintly.

Ron gestured vaguely to the piles of bricks.

"Why?" Harry asked, watching drops of sweat carving their way through the dust on Ron's chest.

"Ah," Ron said. "I thought it would be nice to have a breakfast bar."

"A what?"

"Dean has one at his flat," Ron explained. "Not only can you sit there and have breakfast, but you can talk to people in the lounge while you're in the kitchen." He smiled broadly.

"And you need to do that because…"

"Because otherwise you're cut off from your guests," Ron said uncertainly. "While you cook."

"We don't cook," Harry said. "We'd be cut off from our guests for the ten seconds it takes to go into the kitchen and grab a beer."

Ron looked like a puppy that had been kicked.

A very sexy puppy, with sweat trickling down his chest and leading Harry's eyes groinwards.

Bloody gravity.

"You are insane," he muttered, taking a step closer.

Ron opened his mouth to object.

"Insane and insanely hot," Harry muttered, swallowing Ron's objections and, shortly afterwards, his tongue.

"I'm getting you all dirty," Ron gasped as Harry drew patterns in the red sweat on his chest.

"Yeah," Harry said vaguely, falling to his knees and tugging Ron's shorts down.

Ron's cock was already interested in the proceedings, and Harry stroked it just once before looking up to meet Ron's eyes as he swallowed it, whole.

"Fuckyesharry," Ron whispered.

He ran hands gritty with brick dust through Harry's hair as Harry sucked greedily, enjoying the sight of his cock disappearing between Harry's widely stretched lips almost as much as he enjoyed the feeling of Harry's tongue swirling around him and Harry's throat working against the head of his cock each time he sucked him into wet heat.

He came with a shout, slithering down to join Harry on the floor.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Any time," Harry answered.

Ron brushed some red dust out of Harry's hair. "Trying to look like a Weasley?" he asked.

Harry snorted.

Ron leant forward and kissed him, softly.

"So," Harry asked. "Tell me about this breakfast bar."

"Not only can you sit there and have breakfast, and talk to people in the lounge while you're in the kitchen," Ron explained. "But you came back at just the right moment, because I need to measure you."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The bar needs to be exactly the right height to bend you over, while we fuck," Ron smirked.


My Table.