shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-02-01 07:00:00 |
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Godric's Hollow - Chapter Seven : Shapes - H/R - NC-17
Title: Godric’s Hollow
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
This is my Big Damn Table, turned into a multi-chaptered novella.
One hundred stories inspired by Broke Back Mountain.
Ron looks back on his life with and without Harry.
Chapter Seven: Shapes
Shapes
That summer we went away together for the first time in years.
To our cottage.
Hermione didn’t even have to take the week off work; my Kate had finished school and was going to start work with her mum at the Ministry that autumn and she was happy to be in charge of the tribe.
That was my Head Girl for you. Well, Hermione’s Head Girl, I guess.
Harry and I hadn’t managed to last the year without meeting up, which I felt awful about; we had stolen the occasional afternoon together, so we didn’t fall on each other the second we arrived at the cottage.
We grabbed some food and walked up into the hills. It was wonderful to see him so stress free, to hear him talk about the changes he could see on the way, to hear him complain about the heat as sweat trickled down his neck and darkened his t-shirt.
Eventually we reached one of our favourite picnic spots and collapsed on the ground.
It was too hot to eat, but we each grabbed a Charm chilled drink and flopped back, side by side, looking up at the sky.
The sky was a deep and perfect blue, with patches of white fluffy clouds completely failing to block out the sun.
"A snitch," Harry said suddenly, pointing up at a wisp of cloud.
I rolled my eyes, remembering playing this game with him at school, remembering playing it with our kids.
"Neville," I sniggered, pointing to another cloud; Harry snorted.
"A ship," he offered, indicating a rather stately cloud drifting over us.
"Good one," I allowed. "Breasts," was my next go, as two blobs broke away from it.
"Hmmm, double points," he mused. It was always double points for something rude. "A rocket," he said.
"Where?" I frowned.
"Here," he said, rolling on his side and rubbing his erection against my thigh.
Triangle
I went from comfortably aware that my lover was lying beside me to hard as a rock in about half a second.
It hurt.
He made me feel like a teenager again.
Maybe twenty years earlier I had been constantly aroused by Hermione, but now we muddled through our days, juggling work, housework and children, and I really only had the time to be focused and turned on by her when she set her mind to the task in bed at night.
But not with Harry.
With Harry the simplest touch could still leave me aching; leave me light-headed as all the blood in my system headed south.
I rarely let myself think about how I stood at the apex of our little love triangle.
I tried hard to block out what Harry and I did when I was with Hermione. Just occasionally I was struck hard by the thought that what I was doing to her was shameful.
I told myself I hadn’t lied to her. I had never actually said that I wasn’t in love with Harry, that we weren’t going to sleep together on our week away.
It didn’t make me feel very good about myself.
Square
I hadn’t felt this guilty when Ginny was alive; when I was betraying my wife and my sister.
But the betrayal hadn’t been all on my shoulders then, had it?
Harry had to take an equal responsibility when it was the four of us.
And I’d always thought it must have been harder when he did.
I was used to the dynamics of family life. Not that that usually involved shagging their partners. I wasn’t even tempted by Fleur.
Much.
Anymore.
But I was used to having a family, and knowing that sometimes they’d let you down, but you’d still be family.
Not that Ginny would have forgiven me, had she known.
Anyway.
Harry was an incredible father, but the extended family still didn’t come naturally to him. I know he’d agonised about cheating on Ginny. It didn’t stop him, obviously, but he suffered.
And then there was the sex.
The sex the four of us had.
I could come home to Hermione and not make comparisons; could see her long hair spread out on the pillow or across my lap and completely detach the experience from what I’d done with Harry.
But Harry, the poor sod.
Harry would go home after being with me and find himself caressing pale, freckled skin; find his fingers tangled in long, red hair as he thrust into an eager mouth.
It had always taken him a little while to switch back over and fit himself into his married skin.
But now? Now he was himself all year round. He was mine all year round, even when we couldn’t be together like this.
Circle
The difference to our usual first morning at the cottage couldn’t have been greater.
Every other time we had been alone there, we had fallen on each other and sucked and bitten and devoured – knowing any bruises had a week to fade.
But, with Harry this serene, all we did was lie in the grass and kiss softly, our hands roaming slowly and gently, relearning each other.
Harry was lying half on top of me, humming as he kissed me, idly moving his hips in circles against my thigh and sighing with pleasure.
The bright green grass was reflected in his eyes and he leant down to cover my mouth with his and swallow the gasp I made as he rubbed my cock slowly.
Moon
There was no desperate ripping off of clothes, no frenzy to see him, to taste him, like years ago.
Was it because we were older? Was it because we had been together just a few months ago, one afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron after a Cannons match finished unexpectedly early?
Or was it because we had admitted that this was it. That we were it.
Even if all we could snatch was the odd afternoon together, we knew that we were together.
That I could never love anyone as much as I loved him; that he was just next door, waiting for me.
That every second together was precious, but not in an I-have-to-shag-his-brains-out way. Just being together. Touching him, holding him.
We slowly undressed, between open mouthed kisses, and I stretched out beside him, propped up on an elbow as he sprawled face down, carefully adjusting himself as the grass tickled his erect cock.
As I ran my hand down his body and over his beautiful naked arse.
Star
He squirmed and muttered under his breath under my hand as I grabbed one arse cheek and squeezed hard.
His arse rose up at me and I parted his cheeks with my thumb, running it over and over his entrance as he whimpered and tucked his knees under him.
“Please,” he whined.
“Please, what?” I asked, pressing gently – too gently to enter his body.
“Please, inside me, you bastard,” he laughed.
“What d’you want inside you, Harry?” I teased, finally pushing into him.
“Anything,” he gasped.
I reached for the bottle of lube in our picnic basket with the hand that wasn’t cupping his balls and rubbing against his prostate. “Anything?” I whispered, kneeling behind him and coating my cock with the cool substance.
He rocked back onto my thumb and I flexed it and stretched him.
“D’you want me to fuck you, Harry?” I whispered, leaning over his back and pressing my cock against his entrance.
“Always,” he half-laughed, half-choked.
As I pushed inside him, as his body opened to accept me, I murmured “always,” against his neck and thought of the always that stretched out before us.
About the always that we had behind us, from the moment we met. About how we had ever reached this place.
Trelawny certainly never saw this in the stars.
Heart
Harry cried out as I sheathed myself inside him and I wrapped one arm round his body, holding his hip with my other hand to pull him against me as I thrust into him.
“I’ve missed you,” he hissed, throwing back his head and trying to kiss me over his shoulder.
“Missed you, too,” I whispered against the corner of his mouth, before resting my forehead on his shoulder and surging into him again.
On each thrust he moved back against me, gasping. He tried to take one hand off the ground to reach for his cock, but we wobbled dangerously and I laughed and slid my hand from his hip to stroke him.
I tried to keep up a rhythm, but Harry was rocking under me, fucking my hand as he moved forward and impaling himself on me as he moved back.
And my hand splayed on his chest felt his heart race as he clenched around me and his cock leapt in my hand.
Diamond
Harry trembled beneath me and I rose onto my knees, gripping him by both hips to hold him up and let me thrust into him.
He was still coming and he gasped and cried on each stroke as I hit his prostate.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re fucking killing me, Ron. Please.”
He was hot and tight and clenching around me and I gritted my teeth and continued pounding into his body.
He collapsed onto his face on the grass.
“Please,” he moaned, still twitching with aftershocks. “Please.”
“Please stop?” I croaked.
“No, please fuck me,” he groaned, as one final spasm gripped me and sucked my climax out of me.
I collapsed on top of him, still buried in his arse and he grunted and tried to shift my weight.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
“Language, Harry,” I laughed, finally pulling out of him and curling up beside him, pulling his body against mine.
“Fuck you,” he moaned. “You have the filthiest mouth I know.”
“Ah, yes,” I admitted, “I am something of a diamond in the rough.”
Club
Harry curled up against me, tangling our legs together and resting his head on my shoulder.
“This is perfect,” he sighed against my neck.
“Hmmm,” I murmured into his hair, letting my hand run down his side, gentling the trembling muscles.
“We’re perfect,” he said.
I smiled. He didn’t get sentimental often, but I loved it when he did, and he had just been thouroughy fucked into the ground – if I do say so myself.
He leant back in my arms to look at my face and he blinked solemnly up at me.
“I think we’re perfect together,” he said seriously.
“Join the club,” I smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
Spade
We kissed hungrily and I poured everything I felt for him into every kiss.
His hands tangled in my hair as he kissed me, then he sighed and curled up in my arms again. “Love you, Ron,” he whispered.
“Love you,” I replied.
Who would have thought that that skinny eleven-year-old who shared his sweets with me would come to mean this much to me?
For twenty-seven years he’d been the most important thing in my life, and I knew that that would never change.
I couldn’t explain to you what it was he had that enslaved me like this.
But, whatever it was, he had it in spades.
Title: Godric’s Hollow
Author:
shocfixPairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
This is my Big Damn Table, turned into a multi-chaptered novella.
One hundred stories inspired by Broke Back Mountain.
Ron looks back on his life with and without Harry.
Chapter Seven: Shapes
Shapes
That summer we went away together for the first time in years.
To our cottage.
Hermione didn’t even have to take the week off work; my Kate had finished school and was going to start work with her mum at the Ministry that autumn and she was happy to be in charge of the tribe.
That was my Head Girl for you. Well, Hermione’s Head Girl, I guess.
Harry and I hadn’t managed to last the year without meeting up, which I felt awful about; we had stolen the occasional afternoon together, so we didn’t fall on each other the second we arrived at the cottage.
We grabbed some food and walked up into the hills. It was wonderful to see him so stress free, to hear him talk about the changes he could see on the way, to hear him complain about the heat as sweat trickled down his neck and darkened his t-shirt.
Eventually we reached one of our favourite picnic spots and collapsed on the ground.
It was too hot to eat, but we each grabbed a Charm chilled drink and flopped back, side by side, looking up at the sky.
The sky was a deep and perfect blue, with patches of white fluffy clouds completely failing to block out the sun.
"A snitch," Harry said suddenly, pointing up at a wisp of cloud.
I rolled my eyes, remembering playing this game with him at school, remembering playing it with our kids.
"Neville," I sniggered, pointing to another cloud; Harry snorted.
"A ship," he offered, indicating a rather stately cloud drifting over us.
"Good one," I allowed. "Breasts," was my next go, as two blobs broke away from it.
"Hmmm, double points," he mused. It was always double points for something rude. "A rocket," he said.
"Where?" I frowned.
"Here," he said, rolling on his side and rubbing his erection against my thigh.
Triangle
I went from comfortably aware that my lover was lying beside me to hard as a rock in about half a second.
It hurt.
He made me feel like a teenager again.
Maybe twenty years earlier I had been constantly aroused by Hermione, but now we muddled through our days, juggling work, housework and children, and I really only had the time to be focused and turned on by her when she set her mind to the task in bed at night.
But not with Harry.
With Harry the simplest touch could still leave me aching; leave me light-headed as all the blood in my system headed south.
I rarely let myself think about how I stood at the apex of our little love triangle.
I tried hard to block out what Harry and I did when I was with Hermione. Just occasionally I was struck hard by the thought that what I was doing to her was shameful.
I told myself I hadn’t lied to her. I had never actually said that I wasn’t in love with Harry, that we weren’t going to sleep together on our week away.
It didn’t make me feel very good about myself.
Square
I hadn’t felt this guilty when Ginny was alive; when I was betraying my wife and my sister.
But the betrayal hadn’t been all on my shoulders then, had it?
Harry had to take an equal responsibility when it was the four of us.
And I’d always thought it must have been harder when he did.
I was used to the dynamics of family life. Not that that usually involved shagging their partners. I wasn’t even tempted by Fleur.
Much.
Anymore.
But I was used to having a family, and knowing that sometimes they’d let you down, but you’d still be family.
Not that Ginny would have forgiven me, had she known.
Anyway.
Harry was an incredible father, but the extended family still didn’t come naturally to him. I know he’d agonised about cheating on Ginny. It didn’t stop him, obviously, but he suffered.
And then there was the sex.
The sex the four of us had.
I could come home to Hermione and not make comparisons; could see her long hair spread out on the pillow or across my lap and completely detach the experience from what I’d done with Harry.
But Harry, the poor sod.
Harry would go home after being with me and find himself caressing pale, freckled skin; find his fingers tangled in long, red hair as he thrust into an eager mouth.
It had always taken him a little while to switch back over and fit himself into his married skin.
But now? Now he was himself all year round. He was mine all year round, even when we couldn’t be together like this.
Circle
The difference to our usual first morning at the cottage couldn’t have been greater.
Every other time we had been alone there, we had fallen on each other and sucked and bitten and devoured – knowing any bruises had a week to fade.
But, with Harry this serene, all we did was lie in the grass and kiss softly, our hands roaming slowly and gently, relearning each other.
Harry was lying half on top of me, humming as he kissed me, idly moving his hips in circles against my thigh and sighing with pleasure.
The bright green grass was reflected in his eyes and he leant down to cover my mouth with his and swallow the gasp I made as he rubbed my cock slowly.
Moon
There was no desperate ripping off of clothes, no frenzy to see him, to taste him, like years ago.
Was it because we were older? Was it because we had been together just a few months ago, one afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron after a Cannons match finished unexpectedly early?
Or was it because we had admitted that this was it. That we were it.
Even if all we could snatch was the odd afternoon together, we knew that we were together.
That I could never love anyone as much as I loved him; that he was just next door, waiting for me.
That every second together was precious, but not in an I-have-to-shag-his-brains-out way. Just being together. Touching him, holding him.
We slowly undressed, between open mouthed kisses, and I stretched out beside him, propped up on an elbow as he sprawled face down, carefully adjusting himself as the grass tickled his erect cock.
As I ran my hand down his body and over his beautiful naked arse.
Star
He squirmed and muttered under his breath under my hand as I grabbed one arse cheek and squeezed hard.
His arse rose up at me and I parted his cheeks with my thumb, running it over and over his entrance as he whimpered and tucked his knees under him.
“Please,” he whined.
“Please, what?” I asked, pressing gently – too gently to enter his body.
“Please, inside me, you bastard,” he laughed.
“What d’you want inside you, Harry?” I teased, finally pushing into him.
“Anything,” he gasped.
I reached for the bottle of lube in our picnic basket with the hand that wasn’t cupping his balls and rubbing against his prostate. “Anything?” I whispered, kneeling behind him and coating my cock with the cool substance.
He rocked back onto my thumb and I flexed it and stretched him.
“D’you want me to fuck you, Harry?” I whispered, leaning over his back and pressing my cock against his entrance.
“Always,” he half-laughed, half-choked.
As I pushed inside him, as his body opened to accept me, I murmured “always,” against his neck and thought of the always that stretched out before us.
About the always that we had behind us, from the moment we met. About how we had ever reached this place.
Trelawny certainly never saw this in the stars.
Heart
Harry cried out as I sheathed myself inside him and I wrapped one arm round his body, holding his hip with my other hand to pull him against me as I thrust into him.
“I’ve missed you,” he hissed, throwing back his head and trying to kiss me over his shoulder.
“Missed you, too,” I whispered against the corner of his mouth, before resting my forehead on his shoulder and surging into him again.
On each thrust he moved back against me, gasping. He tried to take one hand off the ground to reach for his cock, but we wobbled dangerously and I laughed and slid my hand from his hip to stroke him.
I tried to keep up a rhythm, but Harry was rocking under me, fucking my hand as he moved forward and impaling himself on me as he moved back.
And my hand splayed on his chest felt his heart race as he clenched around me and his cock leapt in my hand.
Diamond
Harry trembled beneath me and I rose onto my knees, gripping him by both hips to hold him up and let me thrust into him.
He was still coming and he gasped and cried on each stroke as I hit his prostate.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re fucking killing me, Ron. Please.”
He was hot and tight and clenching around me and I gritted my teeth and continued pounding into his body.
He collapsed onto his face on the grass.
“Please,” he moaned, still twitching with aftershocks. “Please.”
“Please stop?” I croaked.
“No, please fuck me,” he groaned, as one final spasm gripped me and sucked my climax out of me.
I collapsed on top of him, still buried in his arse and he grunted and tried to shift my weight.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
“Language, Harry,” I laughed, finally pulling out of him and curling up beside him, pulling his body against mine.
“Fuck you,” he moaned. “You have the filthiest mouth I know.”
“Ah, yes,” I admitted, “I am something of a diamond in the rough.”
Club
Harry curled up against me, tangling our legs together and resting his head on my shoulder.
“This is perfect,” he sighed against my neck.
“Hmmm,” I murmured into his hair, letting my hand run down his side, gentling the trembling muscles.
“We’re perfect,” he said.
I smiled. He didn’t get sentimental often, but I loved it when he did, and he had just been thouroughy fucked into the ground – if I do say so myself.
He leant back in my arms to look at my face and he blinked solemnly up at me.
“I think we’re perfect together,” he said seriously.
“Join the club,” I smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
Spade
We kissed hungrily and I poured everything I felt for him into every kiss.
His hands tangled in my hair as he kissed me, then he sighed and curled up in my arms again. “Love you, Ron,” he whispered.
“Love you,” I replied.
Who would have thought that that skinny eleven-year-old who shared his sweets with me would come to mean this much to me?
For twenty-seven years he’d been the most important thing in my life, and I knew that that would never change.
I couldn’t explain to you what it was he had that enslaved me like this.
But, whatever it was, he had it in spades.