shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-05-03 01:00:00 |
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Guilt Free Access - H/R - NC-17
Title: Guilt Free Access
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 1278
Rating: NC-17
Written for the first post-DH![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif)
hprwfqf, run by the lovely me.
My claim was as follows…
Ron admits he was jealous that Draco got a ride on Harry's broomstick, when all he got was a ride on Tonks's.
Guilt Free Access
****
I squelched lower in the mud and grimaced as I felt it seeping through my jeans, but I take my job very seriously, and am resigned to my share of ridiculous stake outs in horrible weather.
Yes, they didn’t ask for a N.E.W.T. certificate when I joined the department, but I have never had special treatment since I started work, and would never ask for any. The only time I threw my name about was when there was some question of them not taking Ron, too.
No one else I’d ever have at my back.
For the longest time, I meant that in a highly charged, dangerous situation; no one else’s wand was gonna defend me like his.
I'm still not entirely clear how that came to include a highly charged, sexual situation; no one else’s ‘wand’ was gonna bugger me like his.
But there you go.
And there we were, in the mud, in the rain, watching Malfoy Manor and hoping to catch dear Draco up to something. I don’t have the fondest memories of Malfoy Manor, and I was worried that Ron was remembering Hermione’s torture and I didn’t know what to say, because it was still hard to talk about the time he was in love with her, and not me.
Luckily, Ron broke the silence.
“Fucking Malfoy,” he muttered. “Effeminate bastard, utter bottom.”
I blinked raindrops away.
“What?” I managed.
“You just know he’s an utter bottom,” Ron completely failed to explain.
“We’re here to pin Dark activity on him, not sexual preference,” I pointed out. “And my arse takes exception to ‘utter bottom’ as being a bad thing, alright?”
“Not the same thing,” Ron said dismissively. “You’re not submissive when I fuck you, and anyway, you fuck me, too. You just know Malfoy swoons and presents arse if you so much as raise your voice to him. Not you. Someone. Not you.”
I looked away from the expanse of parkland we were supposed to be watching.
“Me?” I asked.
“Not you,” Ron said firmly. “I mean, he would, but I know you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t?”
“Harry!”
“No, of course I wouldn’t,” I said. “But where did all this come from… you sound… sort of… jealous.”
Ron grunted.
“Ron?”
“I always thought he had a thing for you, alright?” he muttered, not looking at me. “And the way he clung to you and screamed like a girl.”
I blinked.
“When did he do that?” I demanded.
He turned and glared at me.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said.
“Really,” I protested. “I think I’d remember Malfoy clinging to me and screaming, OK?”
“On your broom,” Ron said. “When you saved his life and he wrapped his arms round you and probably totally got off on how heroic you were and how his cock was pressed against your arse.”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed, but he raised his chin, stubbornly.
“We were nearly burnt to a crisp,” I said weakly.
“Well, he…” Ron huffed. “And all I ever…”
“I thought you rather enjoyed having Hermione on your broom,” I said.
He made a sound like a sceptical cat.
“Not that,” he said.
“Then what?” I asked.
He shrugged irritably and returned, very unconvincingly, to surveying the wet landscape.
“Ron.”
“Tonks,” he muttered.
“Tonks what?” I asked.
“There’s Malfoy,” he said. “Behind you… massive erection – only, not, because he’s probably hung like a baby carrot and two sprouts - frotting against your arse…”
“Which he totally wasn’t!”
Ron ignored me.
“And all I… massive erection and it was Tonks and…”
He squelched deeper into the mud and looked ridiculously flustered.
“S’OK to have crushed on Tonks,” I said. “I don’t mind. She was great.”
He hissed.
“I never crushed on Tonks,” he said.
“Well, you were seventeen, it’s normal to have got a massive erection from being pressed up against almost anyone,” I said comfortingly, despite the fact that I did not mean it.
“Picture it,” he said.
“I’d rather not.”
“Picture. It. Harry.”
I sighed.
“Well,” I said. “You rode behind her on her broom. I know you were a bit uncomfortable putting your arms round her…”
“Whose arms?” he prompted.
“Your…” I swallowed. “My arms.”
“And whose massive erection?”
I gaped at him.
“That’s… you’re… I’d…”
“Well, there you go,” he said.
“Well, th-that’s OK,” I stammered. “You were pressed up against…”
“No!” he said. “Forget Tonks.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“I…” he looked very nervous. “I touched it… you.”
“You touched my cock?”
“A… a bit,” he said. “Just pressed my hand against my jeans. I knew it was your cock and I knew it was a dreadful thing to do, but it knew that I knew and it was hard and…”
“You got hard just thinking about touching my cock?”
“I always get hard thinking about touching your cock,” he said. “But you’re usually at the other end of it. Then I could feel it pressed against my thigh and… it knew I was thinking about it.”
“Wow.”
“You’re not angry?”
“It’s kind of… hot,” I admitted, squelching closer.
“Hot?” he asked, sliding lower in the mud so I could sprawl on top of him.
“The thought of you getting hard because you had access to my bits,” I admitted, rubbing my face against his hair as I settled between his legs and wriggled against him.
He hummed appreciatively.
“As long as Mundungus didn’t get the same idea,” I said.
He snorted.
“Or... shit!” I stopped grinding my cock against his and gaped at him. “Hermione!”
“Hermione peeked, mate,” he said, clutching my arse with both hands and thrusting up at me to encourage me to start moving again. “She admitted it.”
“You’re kidding,” I said weakly.
“When she first… accessed my tackle,” Ron said, with extravagantly waggling eyebrows. “She was embarrassed and trying to be all businesslike, and she was adamant she’d seen one before and I got all jealous and she admitted she’d peeked.”
“How am I ever gonna face Hermione again?” I whispered.
“And I’ve always thought Bill and Fleur took advantage of the fact,” he said, ignoring my embarrassment.
“That’s… what?”
Ron shrugged and moved under me and I started frotting again, no longer worried about Hermione.
“Well,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “I just thought…. his only chance for guilt free access to a gorgeous bloke. He could pull her off, and it’d be OK – it was his wife.”
“Fiancée,” I gasped. “They weren’t married yet.”
“Ah, well,” he said, spreading his legs further as I drove and squelched against him. “That’s dreadful – d’you really think he touched your cock when he wasn’t even married to it, yet? I’m shocked.”
I whimpered.
“D’you really think she sat in front of him as they flew and he wrapped his arms around her and put his hands into her pants and stroked your cock?”
“Yes,” I gasped, climaxing hard and burying my face in his hair. “Fuck, yes.”
I curled up beside him, in the mud, breathing hard as I watched him unzip and briskly finish himself off.
“D’you really think they did?” I panted.
“Yeah,” he said.
“And you did… and Hermione looked…”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why did I never think of this before?” I demanded.
“You were busy fleeing for your life,” he pointed out, tucking himself away.
“Well, so was everyone else!” I said.
He shrugged. “You were fleeing in your own body,” he pointed out. “You could concentrate purely on the imminent death.”
“Fuck.”
“What?” he said, looking concerned.
“The twins,” I whispered.
“Ah,” he said.
“What?”
“You don’t know what I had to promise George to stop him developing something based on your… equipment.”
Title: Guilt Free Access
Author:
shocfixPairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 1278
Rating: NC-17
Written for the first post-DH
hprwfqf, run by the lovely me.My claim was as follows…
Ron admits he was jealous that Draco got a ride on Harry's broomstick, when all he got was a ride on Tonks's.
Guilt Free Access
****
I squelched lower in the mud and grimaced as I felt it seeping through my jeans, but I take my job very seriously, and am resigned to my share of ridiculous stake outs in horrible weather.
Yes, they didn’t ask for a N.E.W.T. certificate when I joined the department, but I have never had special treatment since I started work, and would never ask for any. The only time I threw my name about was when there was some question of them not taking Ron, too.
No one else I’d ever have at my back.
For the longest time, I meant that in a highly charged, dangerous situation; no one else’s wand was gonna defend me like his.
I'm still not entirely clear how that came to include a highly charged, sexual situation; no one else’s ‘wand’ was gonna bugger me like his.
But there you go.
And there we were, in the mud, in the rain, watching Malfoy Manor and hoping to catch dear Draco up to something. I don’t have the fondest memories of Malfoy Manor, and I was worried that Ron was remembering Hermione’s torture and I didn’t know what to say, because it was still hard to talk about the time he was in love with her, and not me.
Luckily, Ron broke the silence.
“Fucking Malfoy,” he muttered. “Effeminate bastard, utter bottom.”
I blinked raindrops away.
“What?” I managed.
“You just know he’s an utter bottom,” Ron completely failed to explain.
“We’re here to pin Dark activity on him, not sexual preference,” I pointed out. “And my arse takes exception to ‘utter bottom’ as being a bad thing, alright?”
“Not the same thing,” Ron said dismissively. “You’re not submissive when I fuck you, and anyway, you fuck me, too. You just know Malfoy swoons and presents arse if you so much as raise your voice to him. Not you. Someone. Not you.”
I looked away from the expanse of parkland we were supposed to be watching.
“Me?” I asked.
“Not you,” Ron said firmly. “I mean, he would, but I know you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t?”
“Harry!”
“No, of course I wouldn’t,” I said. “But where did all this come from… you sound… sort of… jealous.”
Ron grunted.
“Ron?”
“I always thought he had a thing for you, alright?” he muttered, not looking at me. “And the way he clung to you and screamed like a girl.”
I blinked.
“When did he do that?” I demanded.
He turned and glared at me.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said.
“Really,” I protested. “I think I’d remember Malfoy clinging to me and screaming, OK?”
“On your broom,” Ron said. “When you saved his life and he wrapped his arms round you and probably totally got off on how heroic you were and how his cock was pressed against your arse.”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed, but he raised his chin, stubbornly.
“We were nearly burnt to a crisp,” I said weakly.
“Well, he…” Ron huffed. “And all I ever…”
“I thought you rather enjoyed having Hermione on your broom,” I said.
He made a sound like a sceptical cat.
“Not that,” he said.
“Then what?” I asked.
He shrugged irritably and returned, very unconvincingly, to surveying the wet landscape.
“Ron.”
“Tonks,” he muttered.
“Tonks what?” I asked.
“There’s Malfoy,” he said. “Behind you… massive erection – only, not, because he’s probably hung like a baby carrot and two sprouts - frotting against your arse…”
“Which he totally wasn’t!”
Ron ignored me.
“And all I… massive erection and it was Tonks and…”
He squelched deeper into the mud and looked ridiculously flustered.
“S’OK to have crushed on Tonks,” I said. “I don’t mind. She was great.”
He hissed.
“I never crushed on Tonks,” he said.
“Well, you were seventeen, it’s normal to have got a massive erection from being pressed up against almost anyone,” I said comfortingly, despite the fact that I did not mean it.
“Picture it,” he said.
“I’d rather not.”
“Picture. It. Harry.”
I sighed.
“Well,” I said. “You rode behind her on her broom. I know you were a bit uncomfortable putting your arms round her…”
“Whose arms?” he prompted.
“Your…” I swallowed. “My arms.”
“And whose massive erection?”
I gaped at him.
“That’s… you’re… I’d…”
“Well, there you go,” he said.
“Well, th-that’s OK,” I stammered. “You were pressed up against…”
“No!” he said. “Forget Tonks.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“I…” he looked very nervous. “I touched it… you.”
“You touched my cock?”
“A… a bit,” he said. “Just pressed my hand against my jeans. I knew it was your cock and I knew it was a dreadful thing to do, but it knew that I knew and it was hard and…”
“You got hard just thinking about touching my cock?”
“I always get hard thinking about touching your cock,” he said. “But you’re usually at the other end of it. Then I could feel it pressed against my thigh and… it knew I was thinking about it.”
“Wow.”
“You’re not angry?”
“It’s kind of… hot,” I admitted, squelching closer.
“Hot?” he asked, sliding lower in the mud so I could sprawl on top of him.
“The thought of you getting hard because you had access to my bits,” I admitted, rubbing my face against his hair as I settled between his legs and wriggled against him.
He hummed appreciatively.
“As long as Mundungus didn’t get the same idea,” I said.
He snorted.
“Or... shit!” I stopped grinding my cock against his and gaped at him. “Hermione!”
“Hermione peeked, mate,” he said, clutching my arse with both hands and thrusting up at me to encourage me to start moving again. “She admitted it.”
“You’re kidding,” I said weakly.
“When she first… accessed my tackle,” Ron said, with extravagantly waggling eyebrows. “She was embarrassed and trying to be all businesslike, and she was adamant she’d seen one before and I got all jealous and she admitted she’d peeked.”
“How am I ever gonna face Hermione again?” I whispered.
“And I’ve always thought Bill and Fleur took advantage of the fact,” he said, ignoring my embarrassment.
“That’s… what?”
Ron shrugged and moved under me and I started frotting again, no longer worried about Hermione.
“Well,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “I just thought…. his only chance for guilt free access to a gorgeous bloke. He could pull her off, and it’d be OK – it was his wife.”
“Fiancée,” I gasped. “They weren’t married yet.”
“Ah, well,” he said, spreading his legs further as I drove and squelched against him. “That’s dreadful – d’you really think he touched your cock when he wasn’t even married to it, yet? I’m shocked.”
I whimpered.
“D’you really think she sat in front of him as they flew and he wrapped his arms around her and put his hands into her pants and stroked your cock?”
“Yes,” I gasped, climaxing hard and burying my face in his hair. “Fuck, yes.”
I curled up beside him, in the mud, breathing hard as I watched him unzip and briskly finish himself off.
“D’you really think they did?” I panted.
“Yeah,” he said.
“And you did… and Hermione looked…”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why did I never think of this before?” I demanded.
“You were busy fleeing for your life,” he pointed out, tucking himself away.
“Well, so was everyone else!” I said.
He shrugged. “You were fleeing in your own body,” he pointed out. “You could concentrate purely on the imminent death.”
“Fuck.”
“What?” he said, looking concerned.
“The twins,” I whispered.
“Ah,” he said.
“What?”
“You don’t know what I had to promise George to stop him developing something based on your… equipment.”