His Wheezy - H/R - NC-17
Title: His Wheezy
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words : 820
Rating: NC-17

This is for the wonderful rosina_alcona’s birthday.

It starts with a single word, and each sentence has one word more – a technique stolen from florahart - until there are 40 words in the last sentence.

Σ n for n=1 to 40 = (19 * 40) + 20 + 40 = 820 (for crikkita)

It was beta-ed and prodded at by my beloved magicofisis, whose something intimate I am not worthy of doing something really smutty to – but I can’t think of anything at the moment – because I was so strict about what she could change, because of the whole stupid counting thing.


His Wheezy

Wheezy.

His Wheezy.

“Harry,” Ron whispered.

“Is it true, Harry?”

“Thing I’d Miss Most, Ron.”

“Me too, Harry,” said Ron, blushing.

He swallowed and looked at his friend.

Harry’s hand came up and touched his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asked Ron, almost shyly.

“Oh Harry,” breathed Ron, bending down and capturing his lips.

Electricity shot through him as he felt Harry’s mouth open slightly.

His lips parted and his tongue stole out, slipping into Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s hands slid up Ron’s arms and his fingers tangled in his hair.

Ron’s arms went round his waist and pulled him closer, his eyes falling shut.

Harry moaned into his mouth and sucked hard on his tongue and his knees buckled.

Pulling him down onto the thick fur rug, his hands found their way under Harry’s shirt.

Harry’s mouth laid a trail of hot kisses down his neck, until he nibbled on Ron’s collarbone.

“Too many clothes,” Ron muttered, pulling at Harry’s and throwing back his head to give Harry better access.

Unbuttoning and wriggling between hot, wet kisses and stroking, grasping hands, they finally sank down together, skin against skin.

“Ron,” gasped Harry, his hands running slowly down over Ron’s pale freckled skin, “what do you want me to do?”

“You can do anything you want, Harry,” said the red-headed boy, gazing up at his best friend’s face in the firelight.

Harry’s eyes were wide and almost black in the flickering light; he gazed down at Ron, fiercely, who groaned at the sight.

“Do you want me to go down on you?” asked Harry, as his slim fingers closed slowly around Ron’s erect and straining cock.

“Oh, fuck, Harry, yes,” gasped Ron in amazement, as he thrust into Harry’s hand, hypnotised by the fingers running up and down his shaft.

Harry smiled and lowered his head to lick and nibble his way down Ron’s stomach until he found himself eye to eye with Ron’s cock.

As Ron felt Harry’s hot, wet mouth close around his shaft, his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy and he called out his friend’s name in awe.

Harry had never done this before, but he knew what he’d like Ron to do to him, so he covered his teeth and tried not to gag.

Ron’s hands strayed into Harry’s messy black hair and twisted among the strands, holding him in place as he thrust gently into the sinfully hot mouth engulfing him.

Harry groaned deep in his throat as he used his tongue and both his hands to caress Ron’s silky soft skin and bring him closer and closer to climax.

“Harry, oh God, Harry,” Ron moaned, holding Harry’s hair tightly, and thrusting harder and deeper until he finally saw flashing lights as he came deep in the other boy’s mouth.

Harry mouth was flooded with something warm and salty and he swallowed as quickly as he could, as he continued sucking until Ron had collapsed boneless on the floor beneath him.

Ron was a seventeen-year-old boy and obviously he wanked at least once a day, but he had never felt anything like this, like Harry had sucked his soul out through his cock.

And then Harry crawled back up his body, black hair brushing his skin and giving him electric shocks, mouth kissing and nibbling as he went, leaving a trail of after-shocks in his wake.

“Fuck, Harry, that was fucking incredible,” he said, sleepily, excruciatingly aware of everywhere that their bodies touched, everywhere that Harry had touched or kissed, “where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“I suppose it must be magic,” smirked Harry, lowering his mouth to Ron’s and coaxing the freckled boy’s tongue inside, allowing it to explore his mouth, to taste his own essence on his lover’s tongue.

As Ron’s tongue thrust up strongly into his mouth, Harry touched his face and then tangled his hands in Ron’s river of flame coloured hair and ground his own rock hard erection against Ron’s freckled hip-bone.

Ron groaned into Harry’s mouth and ran his large hands down the wiry muscles in Harry’s back until they settled on his arse and, slipping one thigh between Harry’s, vigorously grinding their bodies together, again and again.

Harry buried his face in Ron’s neck, gasping for breath as he tangled his legs with Ron’s and thrust harder, driving his cock against Ron’s hip each time Ron’s fingers dug into his arse and pulled him closer.

Ron placed heartfelt but haphazard kisses wherever his lips could reach, as his heart fair burst with pride at the sight of the sweaty, gasping Harry Potter writhing against him, moaning with each thrust, each clench of his buttocks.

A scream was wrenched from Harry’s throat as he sank his teeth into Ron’s shoulder and thrust once, twice, thrice more against his sweat slicked hip; moaning and gasping for breath, he collapsed onto Ron - the thing he’d miss most.