Fic for slu64
For: slu64
From: tailoredshirt
Title: Badge of Honor
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angry!sex
Word count: ~2700
Summary: That was one thing the Auror training hadn’t addressed - official protocol for arresting your best mate.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 18 or older.
Author's note: Thank you to my little army of betas and cheerleaders, who indulged me far more than was actually necessary. slu64, thanks for the opportunity to write this. I hope you enjoy it!
Badge of Honor
"Harry! Open up, I know you're in there!"
Ron rapped his knuckles against the door and stepped back again, glancing nervously down the dark corridor and back again. His stomach churned in anticipation, and he brushed the edge of his robes aside to finger the Auror badge in his trouser pocket. Should he have it out when Harry opened the door? Flash it, like he would if they were on official business, or maybe have it pinned to his belt loop, where it would be visible?
That was one thing the Auror training hadn’t addressed - official protocol for arresting your best mate.
Before Ron had a chance to make a decision about the badge, the door swung open.
"What?" Harry asked irritably. He was wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of flannel pyjamas slung low around his hips. "Hey!" he sputtered indignantly as Ron pushed the door open wider and stepped into the flat. "What's the--" He cut himself off with an irritable huff and closed the door. "This had better be good. I'm busy."
Ron ignored him and walked deeper into the flat, letting his eyes flicker from room to room. The breakfast table was covered in stacks of parchment, some highlighted and flagged, some with photos attached. Large men with angry eyes stared back at him, hissing and cursing at him silently. Ron saw Harry’s Auror badge poking out from under a stack of photos and looked away with a weary sigh.
Harry came up from behind him, opening the cupboard above the sink to pull down a coffee mug. Ron tried not to stare as the flimsy t-shirt rode up, exposing the flat of Harry's stomach, but he couldn't help it. Harry glanced back at him expectantly, eyes flickering over Ron’s Auror robes. “Here to arrest me?” he asked casually, his voice giving nothing away.
Ron felt his cheeks heat up. "I came by yesterday."
Harry nodded distractedly. "Sorry. I popped into town for Hermione."
"That's funny," said Ron. "Hermione said she hasn’t seen you all week."
Harry glanced up at him quickly, then lowered his gaze. Ron could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he reached for the box of sugar cubes.
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"I haven't been avoiding you," Harry replied harshly, without looking up. "I’ve been busy, all right? Besides, we see each other every day at the office. Sometimes I just like to be alone."
Ron shook his head. "It's this case, isn't it? You've been working on it day and night. I know you want to solve it straight away, but I'm starting to think you're obsessed with it."
"I'm not obsessed," Harry snapped, looking up. His eyes were wide with anger. "This is important, or have you already forgotten? These people are thieves and murderers. It's our job to catch them, by any means necessary."
Ron scoffed. "Any means necessary." He reached into his robes and pulled out a single piece of parchment from his shirt pocket, holding it out for Harry to take.
"That’s the account records for Borgin and Burkes, right?” Ron asked as Harry scanned the document. “Seems a few numbers got switched around since I last saw these.”
Harry looked up, and Ron could see the wheels churning in his head as he considered his next words. “Where’d you find this?” he asked finally.
“In your desk, on top of a whole other stack of parchment that I don’t even want to know about. Is this how you catch bad guys now, forging documents? I wonder what Kingsley would think if he knew about this." At Harry’s panicked expression, he added disgustedly, "Don't worry, no one else's seen it yet."
Harry looked up slowly, his lips pursed together in silent fury. "You had no right to go through my things.”
"And you had no right to do this!" Ron exclaimed, snatching the parchment back from him. "What were you thinking?"
"I had to do something, all right?" Harry's eyes flashed with anger. "That shop has been helping fugitives since the War, and no one’s been able to stop them. If we don’t put them away now, it’ll never end!"
Ron fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "Do you hear yourself, Harry? This isn't you. This isn't why we wanted to be Aurors." He reached across the table and pulled Harry’s Auror badge out from under a stack of snarling faces. The gold surface glinted in the afternoon light. "Remember how long we trained for these? Remember the oath we took, to protect innocent people and uphold the law? We've only had these for two weeks and you..." He shook his head, searching for the right words. "How could you throw it all away like this?" he demanded, throwing it at Harry’s chest.
Harry caught it easily and fixed him with an icy stare. "I'm not throwing it away. I'm doing what you don't have the balls to do. Without this--" He reached for it, but Ron pulled it out of his grasp. "--a lot of guilty people may go free. Are you willing to let that happen?"
Ron shook his head slowly. "You know, I heard stories," he said finally, tucking the parchment into his pocket. “About blokes that got off on the power, started taking the law into their own hands. I thought, ‘That would never happen to me and Harry.’ I thought we were better than that. That you were better than that.” He paused for a moment and sighed. "I trust the law, but I'm starting to wonder if I can trust you anymore."
He turned back to the door, but Harry stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “That’s a load of rubbish and you know it.”
"What? Harry, I just showed you-"
"That's not why you're here."
"Why else would I be here?"
"You know why."
Ron rolled his eyes and tried to get out of his way, but Harry stepped in front of him again, grabbing his shoulder. Ron tried to shrug him off, but Harry's grip only tightened. Ron’s skin prickled under Harry’s touch, his pulse quickening in anticipation the way it always did when Harry was close. "I--"
"Say it," Harry demanded.
"Say what?"
"The real reason you came here," said Harry. He crowded Ron against the nearest wall and pinned his shoulder into the brick with one hand. "You've been acting strangely for weeks now--"
"Oh, I've been acting strangely?" Ron retorted. "You've just been sneaking around behind my back, breaking Merlin knows how many laws, and I'm the--"
"Oh, shut up, Ron," Harry hissed, but there was something strangely tender about way he said it. "You know what I'm talking about."
Ron flushed and tried to look away, but he couldn't help it. Harry's eyes were as green as he'd ever seen them, and the muscles of his neck were taut with tension. The collar of his t-shirt was askew, revealing the sharp angle of one collarbone, and Ron had to fight the urge to rip the shirt off and lick his way down Harry’s chest. "I think I should go."
But Harry didn't release him. They stared at one another for a long, tense moment before the hand pinning Ron to the wall loosened. Ron felt like he should move, but he couldn't get his legs to work. He held his breath as Harry leaned forward, his nose brushing against Ron's cheek as his breath ghosted over his jaw. If he leaned forward, tilted his head just a bit--
Their lips came together so softly that they almost weren't kissing at all, just breathing into one another's mouths. There was a moment of static, of desire that flared in his belly like a freshly-struck match, and then his mouth opened up under Harry's and everything flooded in again -- the scrape of Harry's jaw, the blood pounding in his ears, the warmth of Harry's tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. Harry pushed him back against the wall, holding him in place with the heel of his hand as he kissed him hungrily.
"Harry," said Ron, and he wanted it to sound angry, but instead he just sounded desperate. Harry's fingers pushed open his robes and found the button of his trousers, thumbing it open as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw. Ron didn't think he'd ever been so hard in his entire life as Harry pushed the trousers down and cupped him through the thin material of his boxers.
"I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes," said Harry, flicking his tongue over Ron's fluttering pulse point. “During training sessions, in the showers after.” One hand slid over Ron's upper thigh, under the hem of his boxers, and along the bare crease of his leg. "You want this. You always have."
Ron started to protest but ended up biting back a whimper as warm fingers found his scrotum. "Oh, fuck." Harry insinuated a knee between Ron's legs and pushed them apart as best as he could. Then he sunk down onto his knees in front of him and tugged Ron's boxers down to his ankles, immediately reaching for Ron's exposed cock. There was no teasing or tentative licks - Harry gripped the underside of Ron's thighs, pushing one up and away, and licked a firm stripe along the underside of his balls. Ron made an unintelligible noise at the back of his throat and let his head fall back against the wall. He could feel Harry's nose brushing the underside of his cock, his tongue finding the spots that made Ron's spine melt. When Harry's mouth finally closed over Ron's cock, enveloping it in dark wet heat, Ron thought that he would like nothing more than to come just like that, with the brick cutting into the small of his back and his fingers tangled in Harry's hair.
But then he remembered the piece of parchment tucked into his shirt pocket, the reason he'd come over in the first place. He pulled Harry away from his cock and pushed off from the wall, knocking Harry slightly off balance. "That's not going to work," he said harshly, or at least he hoped it sounded harsh, because all he could really think about was pinning Harry to the floor and fucking him so hard they both passed out. "You can't distract me that easily."
Harry, standing now, shrugged his indifference, but Ron could see his fingers shaking. "So leave, then. I told you before, I've got work to do."
"Right," said Ron. "Work." They stared at one another for a long moment, both waiting for the other to bend. Ron thought of all of the time he’d spent imagining this, of picturing this moment when finally, finally, they would--
“Sod it,” he muttered and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, his mouth descending upon Harry’s in a rough kiss.
Harry stumbled backwards in surprise, his knees hitting the end of the couch. Ron caught him with a fist curled around the hem Harry's t-shirt, pulling him closer. Their mouths met again, hot and desperate, punctuated by ragged breaths. Ron could feel Harry's erection, still hidden by flannel, brushing against his bare thigh. He backed Harry further into the couch until they both fell over the arm and landed sprawled on the cushions. Ron kicked off his own boxers and trousers, then reached for the waistband of Harry's pyjamas, shoving them down until Harry's cock sprang forward, already hard. Ron gripped him firmly with one hand as he pushed the bottom of Harry's shirt up over his stomach, exposing a dark trail of hair.
"Want me to let you get back to work?" he asked quietly, and Harry glared at him. He tried to wiggle free, but Ron's knees had him pinned to the couch, and two years of training was still no match for Ron's height and weight.
"I could hex you," Harry warned, biting his lip as Ron tugged insistently at his cock. He bucked his hips in an attempt to throw Ron off, but Ron didn't budge. He reached up to slip his robes off his shoulders and unbutton his shirt, slowly, as Harry watched with parted lips.
"Right." He undid the final button but didn't remove the shirt. "Maybe you should work on your combat skills, now that you've got the forgery bit down." Harry let out a curse under his breath, and Ron shifted forward so that he was sitting on Harry's thighs, their cocks nestled together in the space where their bodies met. Harry reached down to touch himself, or maybe both of them, but Ron grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head.
"Bastard," Harry muttered venomously, his mouth only centimeters from Ron's. He angled his hips and attempted to thrust, but Ron pressed his knees against Harry’s sides to keep him from moving too much. "Ron!"
Ron pressed his balls against Harry's, squirming just enough to earn a sharp intake of breath. He shifted his hips then, dragging the length of his cock along Harry's in a long, slow thrust. Harry thrashed uselessly, his head thrown back so that Ron could see the cords of his neck straining. He bent down and licked a path along Harry's exposed collarbone and up to his throat. As Ron angled his hips for another thrust, he could feel Harry's legs shaking with unspent energy, his breath coming out in shallow gasps against Ron's hair. The fingers encircling Harry's wrists entwined with Harry's own fingers, clamping their palms together so hard that Ron thought his fingers might go numb. He could feel his own need building, but he tried to keep his pace even. He wanted this to last, he wanted to keep going, he wanted--
"Oh, fuck, Ron," Harry breathed. "Fuck, I--" Ron bent down and swallowed Harry's words with his mouth as Harry's cock twitched and he came, hot and wet between them. Ron felt his own resolve shatter, and he thrust wildly, his cock sliding through the damp trail of hair on Harry's abdomen. Again, and all he could feel was the pressure building in his stomach, and Harry's warm breath in his mouth, murmuring something now, something that sounded like, "come, Ron," and he obeyed, crying out against Harry's mouth as he spurted all over Harry's softening cock.
"Fuck," he said, slumping bonelessly over Harry's body and releasing his fingers from their vise-like grip. "That was amazing."
Harry grinned and pushed him off. "Where is that thing?" he asked, attempting unsuccessfully to sit up. “I want to see it again.”
"What thing?" Ron asked distractedly, trying to shove Harry's legs to the edge of the couch so he could lie down beside him. When it didn't work, he sat up again, leaning all of his weight back on Harry's thighs.
"This." Harry plucked something from the front pocket of Ron's shirt, which hung limply from Ron's bony shoulders. “When the hell did you have time to do this?”
"Oh," Ron said casually as Harry inspected the document. "I did that yesterday. Nice, eh? Thought it added a bit of authenticity." Harry arched an eyebrow at him, and Ron grinned. “Don’t worry, the real one’s still in your desk."
"Better be," Harry said, laughing. He sat up and, using Ron's post-coital lethargy to his advantage, tipped him off the couch. "I’d really hate having to explain this one to Kingsley.”
Ron smirked and picked up Harry’s Auror badge, which had fallen onto the floor next to them during their argument. "Here," he said, tossing it into Harry's lap. "You get to be the good Auror next time."
From: tailoredshirt
Title: Badge of Honor
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angry!sex
Word count: ~2700
Summary: That was one thing the Auror training hadn’t addressed - official protocol for arresting your best mate.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 18 or older.
Author's note: Thank you to my little army of betas and cheerleaders, who indulged me far more than was actually necessary. slu64, thanks for the opportunity to write this. I hope you enjoy it!
Badge of Honor
"Harry! Open up, I know you're in there!"
Ron rapped his knuckles against the door and stepped back again, glancing nervously down the dark corridor and back again. His stomach churned in anticipation, and he brushed the edge of his robes aside to finger the Auror badge in his trouser pocket. Should he have it out when Harry opened the door? Flash it, like he would if they were on official business, or maybe have it pinned to his belt loop, where it would be visible?
That was one thing the Auror training hadn’t addressed - official protocol for arresting your best mate.
Before Ron had a chance to make a decision about the badge, the door swung open.
"What?" Harry asked irritably. He was wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of flannel pyjamas slung low around his hips. "Hey!" he sputtered indignantly as Ron pushed the door open wider and stepped into the flat. "What's the--" He cut himself off with an irritable huff and closed the door. "This had better be good. I'm busy."
Ron ignored him and walked deeper into the flat, letting his eyes flicker from room to room. The breakfast table was covered in stacks of parchment, some highlighted and flagged, some with photos attached. Large men with angry eyes stared back at him, hissing and cursing at him silently. Ron saw Harry’s Auror badge poking out from under a stack of photos and looked away with a weary sigh.
Harry came up from behind him, opening the cupboard above the sink to pull down a coffee mug. Ron tried not to stare as the flimsy t-shirt rode up, exposing the flat of Harry's stomach, but he couldn't help it. Harry glanced back at him expectantly, eyes flickering over Ron’s Auror robes. “Here to arrest me?” he asked casually, his voice giving nothing away.
Ron felt his cheeks heat up. "I came by yesterday."
Harry nodded distractedly. "Sorry. I popped into town for Hermione."
"That's funny," said Ron. "Hermione said she hasn’t seen you all week."
Harry glanced up at him quickly, then lowered his gaze. Ron could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he reached for the box of sugar cubes.
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"I haven't been avoiding you," Harry replied harshly, without looking up. "I’ve been busy, all right? Besides, we see each other every day at the office. Sometimes I just like to be alone."
Ron shook his head. "It's this case, isn't it? You've been working on it day and night. I know you want to solve it straight away, but I'm starting to think you're obsessed with it."
"I'm not obsessed," Harry snapped, looking up. His eyes were wide with anger. "This is important, or have you already forgotten? These people are thieves and murderers. It's our job to catch them, by any means necessary."
Ron scoffed. "Any means necessary." He reached into his robes and pulled out a single piece of parchment from his shirt pocket, holding it out for Harry to take.
"That’s the account records for Borgin and Burkes, right?” Ron asked as Harry scanned the document. “Seems a few numbers got switched around since I last saw these.”
Harry looked up, and Ron could see the wheels churning in his head as he considered his next words. “Where’d you find this?” he asked finally.
“In your desk, on top of a whole other stack of parchment that I don’t even want to know about. Is this how you catch bad guys now, forging documents? I wonder what Kingsley would think if he knew about this." At Harry’s panicked expression, he added disgustedly, "Don't worry, no one else's seen it yet."
Harry looked up slowly, his lips pursed together in silent fury. "You had no right to go through my things.”
"And you had no right to do this!" Ron exclaimed, snatching the parchment back from him. "What were you thinking?"
"I had to do something, all right?" Harry's eyes flashed with anger. "That shop has been helping fugitives since the War, and no one’s been able to stop them. If we don’t put them away now, it’ll never end!"
Ron fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "Do you hear yourself, Harry? This isn't you. This isn't why we wanted to be Aurors." He reached across the table and pulled Harry’s Auror badge out from under a stack of snarling faces. The gold surface glinted in the afternoon light. "Remember how long we trained for these? Remember the oath we took, to protect innocent people and uphold the law? We've only had these for two weeks and you..." He shook his head, searching for the right words. "How could you throw it all away like this?" he demanded, throwing it at Harry’s chest.
Harry caught it easily and fixed him with an icy stare. "I'm not throwing it away. I'm doing what you don't have the balls to do. Without this--" He reached for it, but Ron pulled it out of his grasp. "--a lot of guilty people may go free. Are you willing to let that happen?"
Ron shook his head slowly. "You know, I heard stories," he said finally, tucking the parchment into his pocket. “About blokes that got off on the power, started taking the law into their own hands. I thought, ‘That would never happen to me and Harry.’ I thought we were better than that. That you were better than that.” He paused for a moment and sighed. "I trust the law, but I'm starting to wonder if I can trust you anymore."
He turned back to the door, but Harry stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “That’s a load of rubbish and you know it.”
"What? Harry, I just showed you-"
"That's not why you're here."
"Why else would I be here?"
"You know why."
Ron rolled his eyes and tried to get out of his way, but Harry stepped in front of him again, grabbing his shoulder. Ron tried to shrug him off, but Harry's grip only tightened. Ron’s skin prickled under Harry’s touch, his pulse quickening in anticipation the way it always did when Harry was close. "I--"
"Say it," Harry demanded.
"Say what?"
"The real reason you came here," said Harry. He crowded Ron against the nearest wall and pinned his shoulder into the brick with one hand. "You've been acting strangely for weeks now--"
"Oh, I've been acting strangely?" Ron retorted. "You've just been sneaking around behind my back, breaking Merlin knows how many laws, and I'm the--"
"Oh, shut up, Ron," Harry hissed, but there was something strangely tender about way he said it. "You know what I'm talking about."
Ron flushed and tried to look away, but he couldn't help it. Harry's eyes were as green as he'd ever seen them, and the muscles of his neck were taut with tension. The collar of his t-shirt was askew, revealing the sharp angle of one collarbone, and Ron had to fight the urge to rip the shirt off and lick his way down Harry’s chest. "I think I should go."
But Harry didn't release him. They stared at one another for a long, tense moment before the hand pinning Ron to the wall loosened. Ron felt like he should move, but he couldn't get his legs to work. He held his breath as Harry leaned forward, his nose brushing against Ron's cheek as his breath ghosted over his jaw. If he leaned forward, tilted his head just a bit--
Their lips came together so softly that they almost weren't kissing at all, just breathing into one another's mouths. There was a moment of static, of desire that flared in his belly like a freshly-struck match, and then his mouth opened up under Harry's and everything flooded in again -- the scrape of Harry's jaw, the blood pounding in his ears, the warmth of Harry's tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. Harry pushed him back against the wall, holding him in place with the heel of his hand as he kissed him hungrily.
"Harry," said Ron, and he wanted it to sound angry, but instead he just sounded desperate. Harry's fingers pushed open his robes and found the button of his trousers, thumbing it open as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw. Ron didn't think he'd ever been so hard in his entire life as Harry pushed the trousers down and cupped him through the thin material of his boxers.
"I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes," said Harry, flicking his tongue over Ron's fluttering pulse point. “During training sessions, in the showers after.” One hand slid over Ron's upper thigh, under the hem of his boxers, and along the bare crease of his leg. "You want this. You always have."
Ron started to protest but ended up biting back a whimper as warm fingers found his scrotum. "Oh, fuck." Harry insinuated a knee between Ron's legs and pushed them apart as best as he could. Then he sunk down onto his knees in front of him and tugged Ron's boxers down to his ankles, immediately reaching for Ron's exposed cock. There was no teasing or tentative licks - Harry gripped the underside of Ron's thighs, pushing one up and away, and licked a firm stripe along the underside of his balls. Ron made an unintelligible noise at the back of his throat and let his head fall back against the wall. He could feel Harry's nose brushing the underside of his cock, his tongue finding the spots that made Ron's spine melt. When Harry's mouth finally closed over Ron's cock, enveloping it in dark wet heat, Ron thought that he would like nothing more than to come just like that, with the brick cutting into the small of his back and his fingers tangled in Harry's hair.
But then he remembered the piece of parchment tucked into his shirt pocket, the reason he'd come over in the first place. He pulled Harry away from his cock and pushed off from the wall, knocking Harry slightly off balance. "That's not going to work," he said harshly, or at least he hoped it sounded harsh, because all he could really think about was pinning Harry to the floor and fucking him so hard they both passed out. "You can't distract me that easily."
Harry, standing now, shrugged his indifference, but Ron could see his fingers shaking. "So leave, then. I told you before, I've got work to do."
"Right," said Ron. "Work." They stared at one another for a long moment, both waiting for the other to bend. Ron thought of all of the time he’d spent imagining this, of picturing this moment when finally, finally, they would--
“Sod it,” he muttered and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, his mouth descending upon Harry’s in a rough kiss.
Harry stumbled backwards in surprise, his knees hitting the end of the couch. Ron caught him with a fist curled around the hem Harry's t-shirt, pulling him closer. Their mouths met again, hot and desperate, punctuated by ragged breaths. Ron could feel Harry's erection, still hidden by flannel, brushing against his bare thigh. He backed Harry further into the couch until they both fell over the arm and landed sprawled on the cushions. Ron kicked off his own boxers and trousers, then reached for the waistband of Harry's pyjamas, shoving them down until Harry's cock sprang forward, already hard. Ron gripped him firmly with one hand as he pushed the bottom of Harry's shirt up over his stomach, exposing a dark trail of hair.
"Want me to let you get back to work?" he asked quietly, and Harry glared at him. He tried to wiggle free, but Ron's knees had him pinned to the couch, and two years of training was still no match for Ron's height and weight.
"I could hex you," Harry warned, biting his lip as Ron tugged insistently at his cock. He bucked his hips in an attempt to throw Ron off, but Ron didn't budge. He reached up to slip his robes off his shoulders and unbutton his shirt, slowly, as Harry watched with parted lips.
"Right." He undid the final button but didn't remove the shirt. "Maybe you should work on your combat skills, now that you've got the forgery bit down." Harry let out a curse under his breath, and Ron shifted forward so that he was sitting on Harry's thighs, their cocks nestled together in the space where their bodies met. Harry reached down to touch himself, or maybe both of them, but Ron grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head.
"Bastard," Harry muttered venomously, his mouth only centimeters from Ron's. He angled his hips and attempted to thrust, but Ron pressed his knees against Harry’s sides to keep him from moving too much. "Ron!"
Ron pressed his balls against Harry's, squirming just enough to earn a sharp intake of breath. He shifted his hips then, dragging the length of his cock along Harry's in a long, slow thrust. Harry thrashed uselessly, his head thrown back so that Ron could see the cords of his neck straining. He bent down and licked a path along Harry's exposed collarbone and up to his throat. As Ron angled his hips for another thrust, he could feel Harry's legs shaking with unspent energy, his breath coming out in shallow gasps against Ron's hair. The fingers encircling Harry's wrists entwined with Harry's own fingers, clamping their palms together so hard that Ron thought his fingers might go numb. He could feel his own need building, but he tried to keep his pace even. He wanted this to last, he wanted to keep going, he wanted--
"Oh, fuck, Ron," Harry breathed. "Fuck, I--" Ron bent down and swallowed Harry's words with his mouth as Harry's cock twitched and he came, hot and wet between them. Ron felt his own resolve shatter, and he thrust wildly, his cock sliding through the damp trail of hair on Harry's abdomen. Again, and all he could feel was the pressure building in his stomach, and Harry's warm breath in his mouth, murmuring something now, something that sounded like, "come, Ron," and he obeyed, crying out against Harry's mouth as he spurted all over Harry's softening cock.
"Fuck," he said, slumping bonelessly over Harry's body and releasing his fingers from their vise-like grip. "That was amazing."
Harry grinned and pushed him off. "Where is that thing?" he asked, attempting unsuccessfully to sit up. “I want to see it again.”
"What thing?" Ron asked distractedly, trying to shove Harry's legs to the edge of the couch so he could lie down beside him. When it didn't work, he sat up again, leaning all of his weight back on Harry's thighs.
"This." Harry plucked something from the front pocket of Ron's shirt, which hung limply from Ron's bony shoulders. “When the hell did you have time to do this?”
"Oh," Ron said casually as Harry inspected the document. "I did that yesterday. Nice, eh? Thought it added a bit of authenticity." Harry arched an eyebrow at him, and Ron grinned. “Don’t worry, the real one’s still in your desk."
"Better be," Harry said, laughing. He sat up and, using Ron's post-coital lethargy to his advantage, tipped him off the couch. "I’d really hate having to explain this one to Kingsley.”
Ron smirked and picked up Harry’s Auror badge, which had fallen onto the floor next to them during their argument. "Here," he said, tossing it into Harry's lap. "You get to be the good Auror next time."