Gentle - H/R - NC-17
Title: Gentle
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 402
Rating: NC-17

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


Gentle
****
Ron never tanned, so Harry knew he'd find him asleep in the shade, somewhere.

And there he was, under a tree, stretched out on a blanket, on his stomach, bottle of beer and bottle of suntan oil beside him, wearing just low slung swimming trunks.

Harry smiled broadly as he sat down beside him, admiring the slumbering figure of his lover.

Ron's face rested on his crossed forearms, and Harry could just glimpse his eyelashes, the red fans fluttering on his freckled cheeks.

He carefully brushed Ron's fringe back from his forehead and admired his peaceful features.

Ron deserved a rest, he thought, lying beside him and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Harry chuckled.

Ron deserved a rest, but he was just so delicious, and Harry couldn't stop touching him, couldn't help running a gentle hand down his back, trying very hard to stop on his hip.

But Ron rocked his hips in his sleep and Harry's fingers slipped inside his trunks, running over the swell of his arse and pausing with his fingertips nestled between Ron's cheeks.

Ron sighed deeply and Harry knelt over him, carefully pressing kisses down his spine, lapping at the sheen of sweat that had formed on his skin, on such a hot, airless afternoon.

"Hmmm," Ron said and Harry froze, his lips in the small of Ron's back, but Ron didn't stir and Harry sighed and moved lower, tugging Ron's trunks down and nuzzling the dimple at the bottom of his spine.

Ron's arse moved up to meet him and his thighs parted and Harry laughed, quietly.

He reached for the suntan oil that Ron had discarded and let it run over his fingers and between Ron's cheeks.

Ron shifted and his arse muscles squeezed together and the oil spread and Harry's fingers slid lower.

Ron moaned, settling his head lower between his arms and pushing back against Harry's finger as it slipped inside him.

"Oh, Ron," Harry whispered, leaning down, pressing his face between Ron's cheeks and lapping at the tender skin beside his fingers.

Ron arched his back, opening himself up to Harry's mouth, and Harry lapped greedily, moaning deep in his throat.

"Yes," Ron muttered huskily.

Harry thrust into him with careful fingers.

"Yes," Ron hissed. "Please…Draco."

Harry reared up, so swiftly he almost gave himself whiplash, to see Ron grinning at him over his soulder.

"You bastard, Weasley," Harry breathed.


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