FICLET--It's Not Unusual
Title: It's Not Unusual
Warning: Reference to male arousal
Words: 496
Harry's eyes fluttered open and he groaned. His body hurt from lifting weights and the running he'd done afterwards. Auror training was more physical than he thought it would be, but he couldn't complain about the results; he had muscles and was starting to outgrow the scrawny kid phase of his youth.
Wearing his favourite boxer shorts, he rolled out of bed and slipped his glasses on before heading toward the door. As he yawned, an explosion, which he barely noticed after living at The Burrow for a year, came from the floors below him. Three steps from the door, it flung open and a blur of red zoomed into the room, barrelling into him and sending him tumbling to the floor, his glasses skittering to the side.
"Well, well, look what we have here," Ginny purred from her perch atop him, her finger trailing down his chest.
Harry blinked several times before he could gather his breath and realize his exact position: on the floor with Ginny, wearing a huge Quidditch shirt and his glasses, sitting over his pelvis. He blushed as his thoughts went into dangerous territory, which caused a very unfortunate physical reaction in the present situation.
"H-hey, there…Gin." Her name came out as more of a groan than anything.
"Fancy running into you here," she said playfully.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"I made Percy's porridge explode on him and ran to the safest place." Her finger continued moving along his chest, idly circling his nipples. New shivers shot through his body.
For the first time since she had fallen on him, he noticed the warmth of her thighs along his body, the way the shirt was exposing a wide expanse of leg, and how one of her shoulders was bared, just begging to be kissed.
"Wha-what are you wearing?" he asked her stupidly.
Smooth, Potter.
"Charlie's old Quidditch shirt. Kinda big, isn't it?"
Harry nodded weakly. "I…I mean…well…"
"Yellow socks. See?"
He turned his head; indeed, she was wearing slouchy yellow socks on her feet.
"But…I mean…do you have anything else on?"
With a huff, Ginny put her hands on her hips and smiled broadly. "Do you honestly think I'd run around the house without my knickers on?"
Ginny…no knickers…oh, bloody hell!
"There're my lucky knickers, too."
Oh, Merlin.
"Luh-lucky?"
She swatted his shoulder. "Not that kind of lucky, you pervert! They have shamrocks on them." The little minx wiggled herself over his crotch, emphasizing the word 'rocks.'
"Er…um….well, I should…uh," he mumbled, the power of speech having obviously left him.
"I'll just let you get into the shower then."
She leaned forward, which placed even more pressure on his crotch, and kissed him lightly on the lips. With a wink, she slid off his lap and left him lying on the floor, his eyes glued to her round backside as he muttered, "Another day, another cold shower. Just another day in the life of Harry Potter."
Warning: Reference to male arousal
Words: 496
Harry's eyes fluttered open and he groaned. His body hurt from lifting weights and the running he'd done afterwards. Auror training was more physical than he thought it would be, but he couldn't complain about the results; he had muscles and was starting to outgrow the scrawny kid phase of his youth.
Wearing his favourite boxer shorts, he rolled out of bed and slipped his glasses on before heading toward the door. As he yawned, an explosion, which he barely noticed after living at The Burrow for a year, came from the floors below him. Three steps from the door, it flung open and a blur of red zoomed into the room, barrelling into him and sending him tumbling to the floor, his glasses skittering to the side.
"Well, well, look what we have here," Ginny purred from her perch atop him, her finger trailing down his chest.
Harry blinked several times before he could gather his breath and realize his exact position: on the floor with Ginny, wearing a huge Quidditch shirt and his glasses, sitting over his pelvis. He blushed as his thoughts went into dangerous territory, which caused a very unfortunate physical reaction in the present situation.
"H-hey, there…Gin." Her name came out as more of a groan than anything.
"Fancy running into you here," she said playfully.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"I made Percy's porridge explode on him and ran to the safest place." Her finger continued moving along his chest, idly circling his nipples. New shivers shot through his body.
For the first time since she had fallen on him, he noticed the warmth of her thighs along his body, the way the shirt was exposing a wide expanse of leg, and how one of her shoulders was bared, just begging to be kissed.
"Wha-what are you wearing?" he asked her stupidly.
Smooth, Potter.
"Charlie's old Quidditch shirt. Kinda big, isn't it?"
Harry nodded weakly. "I…I mean…well…"
"Yellow socks. See?"
He turned his head; indeed, she was wearing slouchy yellow socks on her feet.
"But…I mean…do you have anything else on?"
With a huff, Ginny put her hands on her hips and smiled broadly. "Do you honestly think I'd run around the house without my knickers on?"
Ginny…no knickers…oh, bloody hell!
"There're my lucky knickers, too."
Oh, Merlin.
"Luh-lucky?"
She swatted his shoulder. "Not that kind of lucky, you pervert! They have shamrocks on them." The little minx wiggled herself over his crotch, emphasizing the word 'rocks.'
"Er…um….well, I should…uh," he mumbled, the power of speech having obviously left him.
"I'll just let you get into the shower then."
She leaned forward, which placed even more pressure on his crotch, and kissed him lightly on the lips. With a wink, she slid off his lap and left him lying on the floor, his eyes glued to her round backside as he muttered, "Another day, another cold shower. Just another day in the life of Harry Potter."