A double whammy, for your last day of radiation! <3
Sue!! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ By the time you read this, your last radiation treatment will be behind you!! In your rear-view mirror, if you will. :) I just. God. I'm so happy for you and proud of you and utterly amazed at the grace and strength with which you have handled all of this, seriously. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥, &etc, to infinity. I hope you know how much we all love you.
(PS. This is Jeannie - I used to be shes_gone, everyone! - just so there's no confusion. :D)
OK, so. Sue, I'm afraid that you seem to attract yourself some crazy friends. Like, scarily similarly crazy friends. Early last week, in preparation for today, I put together this totally cracked-out Harry/Ron fic for you, complete with doll porn and lost body parts and even a household pet, and posted it to my beta-filter. A few hours later (I think it was two, actually), I refreshed my flist and my jaw dropped because apparently abigail89 and I were the same person that day? Or at least we had been drinking the same kool-aid. I'm just not even kidding. I laughed so hard, I can't tell you, because, honestly. What are the chances? And also, obviously, because her fic was totally hilarious and completely awesome.
I was hesitant to post mine, after that, but she assured me that she didn't mind, so. If you're in the mood for some more super cracked-out Harry/Ron doll porn (in which my cat has a supporting role), it's here.
Buuuuuuuuuuut. I wanted to do something different, too. Because, you know-variety, spice, life. All that. So. Here is something completely different, to mix things up a bit. :D And by 'different', I mean 'total, utter, complete schmoop'. Just FYI.
Title: Chainmail
Author: shes_gone
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: PG
Word Count: 950
Summary: Being an Auror can be dangerous.
Warnings: Seriously, so schmoopy, homg.
Notes: Huge, heartfelt thanks to tailoredshirt for the beta, and to plotbunniofdoom for the Britpick - ♥!
Chainmail
"How're you feeling?" Harry asked, as he carried the dinner dishes to the sink. "You tired?"
Ron, still seated at the table, groaned and shot Harry an exasperated look. "Harry. Stop it."
Harry bristled. "I'm sorry, I just-"
"Mate, I know, OK? I get it. I've been in your place, haven't I?" he said, looking at Harry pointedly.
"You have, but-"
"And what do you always say to me, when I finally get to bring you home?"
Harry averted his eyes and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
"'It's just part of the job, Ron. Sometimes we get injured. Sometimes we end up in the hospital. But we get better, and we come home, and we don't fuss over it.'"
"But, Ron, this is-"
"It's not, Harry. It's not different."
"You were there for three sodding days," Harry said plaintively. "That's a long time."
"Only because these damn things are such a pain to regrow," Ron replied, splaying his fingers over his ribcage. "But they're fine now, aren't they? Each one's accounted for, and everything inside's in perfect working order. And honestly, Harry, it wasn't that big of a deal. People go through way worse than that every day."
"I know they do, but-," Harry groaned. "You're the one I'm worried about right now."
Ron watched Harry's jaw clench, and sighed. Turning his chair away from the table, he reached a hand towards Harry. "C'mere."
Harry just looked at him for a moment, considering, before reluctantly uncrossing his arms and stepping forwards.
"I don't want you to worry," Ron said, pulling him close.
"Can't help it," Harry mumbled.
Ron smirked and squeezed his fingers. "I know."
Harry looked at him sheepishly. "Don't I get a couple of hours to fuss, at least? You've only just got home."
Ron chuckled and looked at the clock. "It's already been a couple of hours, mate. Two and a quarter. Time's up."
Harry groaned and let Ron pull him closer, stepping his legs apart so he could straddle Ron's thighs and settle onto his lap. He brought a careful hand to Ron's chest, gently testing its strength with his palm. It held, and he sighed. "I'm glad you're home," he said, after a moment.
"Me too," Ron said, and leaned in to kiss him.
Harry sighed and slid a hand into Ron's hair as they kissed gently for a few minutes, just lips and an easy bit of tongue. It didn't take long, though, for Ron's hands to drift to Harry's arse, pulling him in closer as their kiss deepened, and Harry's fingers tightened their grip against his scalp.
Harry moaned and pressed his hips forwards before breaking the kiss to look down at Ron. "You sure you're up for this?" he said, breathing quickly. "Should we go lie down, at least?"
Ron gave him a very pointed look and tightened his grasp of Harry's arse.
"Right, right, sorry," Harry said, rolling his eyes and rubbing his thumb over Ron's collarbone through his shirt.
Ron smirked and kissed Harry once on the mouth before bringing his hands to Harry's chest, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
The crisp, thick fabric fell open, and Ron blinked when he didn't find bare skin underneath, nor one of Harry's usual white undershirts. He frowned and undid another button, and then another, before drawing a quick, surprised breath.
"What?" Harry asked, his hands stilling. "What's wrong?"
Ron only tilted his head to the side.
Harry glanced down at his own chest, and immediately pulled back, leaning away from Ron. "Shit," he muttered, embarrassedly grabbing at his button-down, trying to cover himself up.
Ron batted his hands away, and after a moment, Harry relented, letting Ron work the rest of his buttons open. Ron slid the over-shirt up and off, then rubbed his fingertips against old, thin cotton.
"I thought I'd lost this," he whispered.
Harry looked away, his face red.
The shirt wasn't really orange, anymore, but something closer to brown, and one of the Ns had faded nearly completely.
"I looked everywhere," Ron said, staring at it. "Hermione thought I was mad. The first night I moved in with her, I left to go look for it. Went back to the old flat, convinced the new tenants to let me look around." He smirked. "Didn't think to look in your old bedroom, though."
Harry shrugged. "You wouldn't have found it there, anyway."
Ron smiled and twisted his finger into a hole in the fabric, near Harry's belt. "This thing was old and ratty a decade ago, mate."
"I like it."
"Why've I not seen it 'til now?"
"Only wear it when you're not around," Harry muttered.
Ron looked up at him, and Harry couldn't quite look back, his gaze darting from the table, to the floor, to Ron's face, and then back to the table. Ron pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his back and pressing his face against Harry's chest, where the old t-shirt clung like a second, protective skin.
Harry's hands found their way to Ron's back and skimmed the path of his spine. Ron sighed and pulled him closer.
"Harry," Ron said after a minute, his cheek pressed to Harry's heartbeat, "this shirt stinks."
"Oh god, sorry," Harry said, with a laugh. "Been wearing it for three days."
Ron snorted and buried his nose in it, pressing a kiss to Harry's sternum before pulling back to look at him.
Harry smiled sheepishly, but finally met Ron's gaze. "You can have it back, if you like," he said.
Ron shook his head. "Like it better on you," he said, and leaned in for another kiss.
(PS. This is Jeannie - I used to be shes_gone, everyone! - just so there's no confusion. :D)
OK, so. Sue, I'm afraid that you seem to attract yourself some crazy friends. Like, scarily similarly crazy friends. Early last week, in preparation for today, I put together this totally cracked-out Harry/Ron fic for you, complete with doll porn and lost body parts and even a household pet, and posted it to my beta-filter. A few hours later (I think it was two, actually), I refreshed my flist and my jaw dropped because apparently abigail89 and I were the same person that day? Or at least we had been drinking the same kool-aid. I'm just not even kidding. I laughed so hard, I can't tell you, because, honestly. What are the chances? And also, obviously, because her fic was totally hilarious and completely awesome.
I was hesitant to post mine, after that, but she assured me that she didn't mind, so. If you're in the mood for some more super cracked-out Harry/Ron doll porn (in which my cat has a supporting role), it's here.
Buuuuuuuuuuut. I wanted to do something different, too. Because, you know-variety, spice, life. All that. So. Here is something completely different, to mix things up a bit. :D And by 'different', I mean 'total, utter, complete schmoop'. Just FYI.
Title: Chainmail
Author: shes_gone
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: PG
Word Count: 950
Summary: Being an Auror can be dangerous.
Warnings: Seriously, so schmoopy, homg.
Notes: Huge, heartfelt thanks to tailoredshirt for the beta, and to plotbunniofdoom for the Britpick - ♥!
Chainmail
"How're you feeling?" Harry asked, as he carried the dinner dishes to the sink. "You tired?"
Ron, still seated at the table, groaned and shot Harry an exasperated look. "Harry. Stop it."
Harry bristled. "I'm sorry, I just-"
"Mate, I know, OK? I get it. I've been in your place, haven't I?" he said, looking at Harry pointedly.
"You have, but-"
"And what do you always say to me, when I finally get to bring you home?"
Harry averted his eyes and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
"'It's just part of the job, Ron. Sometimes we get injured. Sometimes we end up in the hospital. But we get better, and we come home, and we don't fuss over it.'"
"But, Ron, this is-"
"It's not, Harry. It's not different."
"You were there for three sodding days," Harry said plaintively. "That's a long time."
"Only because these damn things are such a pain to regrow," Ron replied, splaying his fingers over his ribcage. "But they're fine now, aren't they? Each one's accounted for, and everything inside's in perfect working order. And honestly, Harry, it wasn't that big of a deal. People go through way worse than that every day."
"I know they do, but-," Harry groaned. "You're the one I'm worried about right now."
Ron watched Harry's jaw clench, and sighed. Turning his chair away from the table, he reached a hand towards Harry. "C'mere."
Harry just looked at him for a moment, considering, before reluctantly uncrossing his arms and stepping forwards.
"I don't want you to worry," Ron said, pulling him close.
"Can't help it," Harry mumbled.
Ron smirked and squeezed his fingers. "I know."
Harry looked at him sheepishly. "Don't I get a couple of hours to fuss, at least? You've only just got home."
Ron chuckled and looked at the clock. "It's already been a couple of hours, mate. Two and a quarter. Time's up."
Harry groaned and let Ron pull him closer, stepping his legs apart so he could straddle Ron's thighs and settle onto his lap. He brought a careful hand to Ron's chest, gently testing its strength with his palm. It held, and he sighed. "I'm glad you're home," he said, after a moment.
"Me too," Ron said, and leaned in to kiss him.
Harry sighed and slid a hand into Ron's hair as they kissed gently for a few minutes, just lips and an easy bit of tongue. It didn't take long, though, for Ron's hands to drift to Harry's arse, pulling him in closer as their kiss deepened, and Harry's fingers tightened their grip against his scalp.
Harry moaned and pressed his hips forwards before breaking the kiss to look down at Ron. "You sure you're up for this?" he said, breathing quickly. "Should we go lie down, at least?"
Ron gave him a very pointed look and tightened his grasp of Harry's arse.
"Right, right, sorry," Harry said, rolling his eyes and rubbing his thumb over Ron's collarbone through his shirt.
Ron smirked and kissed Harry once on the mouth before bringing his hands to Harry's chest, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
The crisp, thick fabric fell open, and Ron blinked when he didn't find bare skin underneath, nor one of Harry's usual white undershirts. He frowned and undid another button, and then another, before drawing a quick, surprised breath.
"What?" Harry asked, his hands stilling. "What's wrong?"
Ron only tilted his head to the side.
Harry glanced down at his own chest, and immediately pulled back, leaning away from Ron. "Shit," he muttered, embarrassedly grabbing at his button-down, trying to cover himself up.
Ron batted his hands away, and after a moment, Harry relented, letting Ron work the rest of his buttons open. Ron slid the over-shirt up and off, then rubbed his fingertips against old, thin cotton.
"I thought I'd lost this," he whispered.
Harry looked away, his face red.
The shirt wasn't really orange, anymore, but something closer to brown, and one of the Ns had faded nearly completely.
"I looked everywhere," Ron said, staring at it. "Hermione thought I was mad. The first night I moved in with her, I left to go look for it. Went back to the old flat, convinced the new tenants to let me look around." He smirked. "Didn't think to look in your old bedroom, though."
Harry shrugged. "You wouldn't have found it there, anyway."
Ron smiled and twisted his finger into a hole in the fabric, near Harry's belt. "This thing was old and ratty a decade ago, mate."
"I like it."
"Why've I not seen it 'til now?"
"Only wear it when you're not around," Harry muttered.
Ron looked up at him, and Harry couldn't quite look back, his gaze darting from the table, to the floor, to Ron's face, and then back to the table. Ron pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his back and pressing his face against Harry's chest, where the old t-shirt clung like a second, protective skin.
Harry's hands found their way to Ron's back and skimmed the path of his spine. Ron sighed and pulled him closer.
"Harry," Ron said after a minute, his cheek pressed to Harry's heartbeat, "this shirt stinks."
"Oh god, sorry," Harry said, with a laugh. "Been wearing it for three days."
Ron snorted and buried his nose in it, pressing a kiss to Harry's sternum before pulling back to look at him.
Harry smiled sheepishly, but finally met Ron's gaze. "You can have it back, if you like," he said.
Ron shook his head. "Like it better on you," he said, and leaned in for another kiss.