sparkysparky | FIC: Happy Valentine's Day, Ron Weasley (NC-17, One-shot)

Title: Happy Valentine’s Day
Author:

sparkysparky
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Warnings: Cross-dressing, kinky-sex
Word Count: Around or near 2600
Author’s Notes: Not beta’d by anyone other than me, so please excuse any mistakes. I wrote this last minute for

tamlane’s The "Every Day the 14th" Valentine's Fic Challenge! . Oh, and this is crack!fic. Absolute and utter crack!fic, although it got a bit plotty at the end. *headdesk*

“Harry? Are you here?” Ron called as he flooed into their shared apartment. “Harry?”

A note on the table caught Ron’s eye. Gone to Hermione’s. I’ll pick up curry for dinner. Love you! ~Harry

Ron looked at the Muggle watch Hermione had given him for Christmas. It was half past six, and no Harry.

Just enough time to shower, Ron decided, and headed for the bath off the master bedroom.

Ron shrugged out of his Auror’s robes and left them in a heap on the bedroom floor. He’d pick them after his shower. As he stepped under the steaming spray, he heard the front door open, and smiled to himself.

Harry was home. With curry. Yum.

Ron turned off the shower and dried off, draping the towel over his neck to catch the dripping water from his hair. Pulling on a pair of ratty denims, Ron walked to the kitchen, vigorously drying his hair.

Because his head was tilted toward the floor, the first thing he noticed were the shoes. The deep pink shoes with five inch heels and open toes. Toes that were painted a bright, vibrant pink.

The towel dropped from Ron’s suddenly slack hands as his eyes traveled up the vision in front of him. And it had to be a vision, because there was no way that was his boyfriend standing there in a slinky dress made of some stretchy, incandescent material that molded itself to curves and shimmered in the candlelight. And it definitely wasn’t Harry’s silky leg peeking through a slit in the material almost to mid-thigh.

Nope, definitely not Harry.

Only, it was.

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered through suddenly dry lips. His heart was beating a million miles a minute.

Harry smiled seductively. “I guess you like it.”

Ron nodded, incapable of speech.

Harry took a step closer and the shiny earrings that dangled almost to his shoulders swayed. “Hermione helped me. Happy Valentine’s Day love.”

Ron was semihypnotized watching the earrings move. But he still had some of his faculties. “Wait.” His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed a handful of sawdust. “I need…” He couldn’t think. Seeing Harry in that dress had robbed him of his higher thinking. “A shower. I need a shower.”

“Ron.” Harry took another step closer. “You’ve just had a shower.”

“Oh.” Ron blinked at the towel by his feet. “Right.”

Then Harry wound one arm around Ron’s neck. The contact sizzled.

With his free hand, Harry took off his glasses and tossed them over his shoulder and both arms were around Ron’s neck and fingers were buried in Ron’s ginger hair, massaging lightly with fingertips.

Ron moaned softly. “What about dinner?”

Harry laughed. “Let’s make-out instead.” The heels gave Harry just enough height to bring their mouths exactly even.

“But you have on all that lipstick and stuff.” Ron found it incredibly sexy to look at that red, red mouth that glistened and tempted him to dive in.

“Afraid to get it on you?”

“No.” He wanted it on him. He wanted to drown in Harry, but he looked so perfect and if Ron gave into his needs, Harry would become smudged beyond belief.

“I charmed the make-up Ron,” Harry said. “You could kiss me all night and it wouldn’t smudge. Want to test it out?”

Ron held out for another couple seconds. Then Harry ran his tongue slowly over his mouth, which only made it wetter looking.

“Oh, what the hell.” A bloke could be expected to put up only so much of a protest. Ron wrapped both arms around Harry’s slighter frame. “Let the kissing start.”

“Thank Merlin.”

Harry tasted like raspberries. Whatever this shiny lip stuff was, they’d flavored it with fruit and raspberries were fast becoming Ron’s favorite taste thrill. The delivery system was outstanding. Harry had a way of kissing that made Ron forget everything but the feel of their mouths on each other—moist supple open…oh yes, very open. Exceedingly open to exploration, and Ron would do that. He most certainly would do that. Mm, sweet. Wet. Good.

Ron would have sworn that he was only aware of the kissing, but that must not have been entirely true, because before he realized it he’d backed Harry up against the wall and his awareness had traveled slightly lower. One moment he was totally involved in the mouth-to-mouth action, and the next he was incorporating other areas—Harry’s chin, throat, collarbone, shoulder.

This dress, oh Merlin this dress. The material was stretchy. He loved that about clothing. The thin strap over Harry’s left shoulder went down without a fight, not even threatening to tear. Ripping was not acceptable. This dress had to last a long time.

Harry must have been helping him in some subtle way, because Ron was not even sure could have found the zipper by himself. It was sort of hidden in the back, and Harry had to arch away from the wall to let Ron find it. The arching was ok though, because it made their chests press together and the contact sizzled.

Harry, of course, was not wearing a bra, so his perfect pink nipples poked against the shimmery material and Ron couldn’t resist that. He had to play with those nipples until Harry made little whimpering sounds in this throat. Touching Harry through the material got them both so worked up that Ron finally had to make use of the zipper so he could get rid of the top part of the dress.

Ron eased back a bit and just stared at Harry. The faint sprinkling of chest hair was gone, revealing creamy white skin and dusky pink nipples. The nipples themselves were peaked and pouting for Ron to play with them some more. Ron lowered his head and took one nipple between his teeth and pulled gently. He repeated the action before pulling back to inspect his work.

He decided that Harry’s nipples looked their absolute best wet and quivering, so he endeavored to keep them in that condition. From the way Harry was quaking and moaning in his arms, Ron thought he might be happy with the effort.

Ron was beyond happy. Harry’s round bottom fit perfectly in Ron’s cupped hands with exactly enough gentle weight to be supported nicely against his palms. And as much as Ron loved the sensation of rolling Harry’s nipple against the roof of his mouth, Harry seemed to love it even more. And when Ron tugged softly with his teeth, Harry shivered.

Harry’s shiver made the dress rustle against the denim of Ron’s jeans, denim that was under strain at the moment. The situation below his waistband was fast becoming critical. A man with more finesse, the kind of man who dressed in suits and dined at 5-star restaurants, would suggest moving the bedroom.

But Harry and Ron were not men with that approach. They were men who liked it in a candlelit kitchen up against the wall.

Vaguely Ron remembered there was something special about this dress besides the shimmery, stretchy fabric. Then the special part flashed across his brain like a streaking comet. As Harry had walked toward him, each step had given a breathtaking view of one long leg. The dress had a slit up the side, a deliciously long slit, long enough to send Ron’s imagination into very erotic territory.

Kissing his way back up to Harry’s mouth, Ron slid one hand around to Harry’s hip.

Harry put an inch between their lips. “Looking for something?” he murmured.

“A way in.” Ron barely recognized his own voice. The rough urgency was unfamiliar, but so was this desperation. He’d thought he’d known sexual hunger before, but Harry had never dressed up like this for him, and the need was something that had taken him by surprise.

Harry’s quick, shallow breaths tickled Ron’s mouth. “Keep going.”

At mid-thigh the material gave way and Ron slip his hand through the opening to touch warm skin. The tactile pleasure of that brought a growl of delight from his throat. He pushed on, expecting to find some kind of silk and lace.

Instead he discovered nothing but…Harry. Ron drew in a sharp breath.

“Surprised?”

Ron gulped. “Grateful. Another charm?”

Harry nodded, then moaned as Ron’s work roughened hand closed around him.

Smoothing one hand over Harry’s taut bottom, Ron grasped Harry’s erection firmly, stroking up and down in a slow, easy motion.

Harry gasped and closed his teeth around Ron’s ear, tugging in time to Ron’s strokes.

They lost track of the sequence of events after that. Ron remembered kissing Harry hard and using his tongue to let him know what was ahead. Harry must have unzipped Ron’s jeans and shoved down the briefs, because Ron didn’t think he’d done any of that. Somehow he located his wand and muttered a lubricating and stretching charm, glad that parts of his common sense were still working.

When he picked Harry up, the skirt magically drifted to one side, or maybe Harry pulled it over to give him access. The details blurred, except for that defining moment when Harry held onto his shoulders and wrapped his legs around Ron’s hips and Ron gently pushed two fingers inside Harry, gently scissoring them to loosen the muscles.

Harry’s head fell forward onto Ron’s shoulders, and he bit down as Ron brushed over his prostate. Ron added a third finger to the other two and after making sure Harry was ready for him, placed the head of his erection at Harry’s opening and pushed deep inside. His sac rested gently against the curve of Harry’s bottom, and Harry’s erection was trapped firmly between their bodies.

One of the stiletto heels poked Ron in the small of his back, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him but the rhythm of his thrusting and the glow in Harry’s eyes. Harry’s lips parted as he gasped for breath and his delicate nostrils flared.

Every time Ron pumped, the dress rustled and the long earring swung, brushing Harry’s shoulders. And although Ron should know everything about Harry’s responses after seven years of this, he was always awed by Harry’s absolute surrender. Ron played to the excitement building in Harry’s eyes, gauged the pattern of his breathing and moved in tune with him.

This was how making love was supposed to be. Instinctive. Easy. Filled with wonder. And so good. So very, very good. Ron felt Harry tighten around him and joy surged into his heart that he was able to give Harry this.

Harry said his name once, drawing the one syllable out into two, voice trembling and vivid with emotion. And then he came, back arching, shoulders pressed against the wall, thighs quaking as the spasms massaged Ron’s penis. The milky fluid of Harry’s release showed up beautifully against the dark material of the dress. Ron managed a few precious seconds more, giving Harry a chance to revel in the sensation.

Then he couldn’t hold back anymore. With a groan of satisfaction Ron locked his hips against Harry’s, closed his eyes and abandoned himself to a powerful climax. The force of it left him barely able to stand.

Afraid he might collapse and damage all sorts of important parts; he leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder and fought to stay upright. He’d give this position a ten for sexual excitement, but a one for ease of recovery. He was the structural support for this operation, and the structure was definitely compromised by the orgasm of a lifetime.

Then there was the problem of his jeans. Sometime during the action they’d fallen down around his ankles. His briefs hung by the elastic around his knees.

Maybe this was why they hadn’t done it against a wall since school. They’d forgotten the absolute awkwardness of the afterglow.

Harry stroked his fingers through Ron’s hair as their breathing slowed. “That was incredible.”

“Mm. Amazing.” Ron hoped he wouldn’t ruin the moment by falling down and getting hopelessly tangled in his clothes.

Harry moved his lips close to Ron’s ear. “You can let me go now.”

Gradually Ron became aware that he was gripping Harry’s bottom as if she were the handlebars on a motorbike. Instantly he relaxed his fingers and hoped he hadn’t left bruises.

Still feeling pretty damned vulnerable and shaky Ron found the strength to lift his head and look into Harry’s clear, green eyes. “If I’ve left marks, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Harry smiled at Ron, and his expression was all warm and misty. “If you left marks, I’ll cherish each and every one of them. But now we have to figure out how to untangle ourselves, don’t we?”

We. Ron never got tired of being referred to as a we. “Got any ideas?”

Harry nodded and leaned back against the wall. “Brace your hands on the wall.”

Ron did. Harry then slowly lowered one leg, keeping Ron inside him by squeezing his muscles, and slowly toed Ron’s briefs down past his knees so they would fall at their feet.

Harry then wrapped his legs around Ron again and said, “Now slowly step out of your clothes.”

Soon they were free of the clothes and Ron felt himself grow hard inside Harry again. Harry nuzzled his neck as Ron carried them to the bedroom.

Once they were near the bed, Ron turned around and sat on the edge so Harry was astride him. Harry reached down and pulled the dress over his head, lifting up off Ron’s lap to throw it behind them, and then sinking down again with a moan.

They were just settling into an easy rhythm when the sound of the living room Floo reached their ears, followed by Molly Weasley calling, “Ronald? Harry? Are you there?”

Ron groaned and whispered, “Do you think if we don’t answer, she’ll go away?”

Harry laughed and reluctantly eased himself off Ron’s lap. “It could be important.”

Grumbling Ron willed his erection away and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and t-shirt. “Stay right there, I won’t be long.”

Ron hurried to the living room and glared at his mother. Molly Weasley, long used to her boys’ glares, ignored him. “Ron, dear, do you think you and Harry could come over and get rid of the garden gnomes again? George and Angelina’s wedding is tomorrow, and I won’t have the garden destroyed by those creatures.”

“Mum, it’s Valentine’s Day, what if Harry and I had plans?”

Molly’s eyes, so like Ron’s, clouded with disappointment and she said, “Oh, I didn’t realize. Of course dear, it can wait.” Her head started to fade.

The guilt hit Ron as he remembered why his mother had forgotten Valentine’s Day. Since his father had died, his mother hadn’t had any reason to remember February 14th. “Mum, wait!” Molly’s head grew clearer again. “Of course we’ll come over. Maybe we can have dinner when we’re done with the gnomes.”

Molly brightened and said, “Oh, thank you! I have some stew simmering; it’ll be just about done when you get here.”

Ron smiled and said good-bye, then turned to see Harry looking dreamily at him.

“You’re a good man, Ron Weasley.”

Ron blushed. “You don’t mind? Mum sounded lonely.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” Harry placed his hands on Ron’s shoulder and a gentle, loving kiss on his lips. “We have all night to finish what we started.”

Ron wrapped his arms around Harry and breathed in his wonderful scent. “I love you.”

Harry smiled against Ron’s throat. “I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Current Mood: horny

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shocolate.livejournal.com

I have a huge love for Harry's peaked and pouting nipples!

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