REC: Underneath Your Clothes by ella_bane
Underneath Your Clothes by strumpweather alias ella_bane
[NC-17, Ron/Lucius, Harry/Lucius, one-shot]
Warnings: reluctant consent
Summary: Harry and Ron are trapped. Their plan to escape? The seduction of Lucius Malfoy. Hey, they never said it was a good plan.
I haven't giggled over a fic this madly for ages. First because it exists (hey, it's Ron/Lucius/Harry!), then because it's written supremely well, after that because it's hot and physical with sweaty Ron and aloof Lucius and yum!, and finally because it's just incredibly *funny*. The whole setup, and the bantering, and the outraged egos and... *everything*! Read!
Malfoy returned his attention to Harry. "I do not play games, Potter. But you do, don't you? You play with Dark Lords and magical artifacts that are not your concern. And now," he aimed his wand at them both, "now, you want to play with me. Foolish boys."
Harry's insides turned leaden. He was wandless, and trapped in a shed with Lucius Malfoy -- a man he'd helped incarcerate. And what was his protection? A sweaty, shirtless Ron.
[NC-17, Ron/Lucius, Harry/Lucius, one-shot]
Warnings: reluctant consent
Summary: Harry and Ron are trapped. Their plan to escape? The seduction of Lucius Malfoy. Hey, they never said it was a good plan.
I haven't giggled over a fic this madly for ages. First because it exists (hey, it's Ron/Lucius/Harry!), then because it's written supremely well, after that because it's hot and physical with sweaty Ron and aloof Lucius and yum!, and finally because it's just incredibly *funny*. The whole setup, and the bantering, and the outraged egos and... *everything*! Read!
Malfoy returned his attention to Harry. "I do not play games, Potter. But you do, don't you? You play with Dark Lords and magical artifacts that are not your concern. And now," he aimed his wand at them both, "now, you want to play with me. Foolish boys."
Harry's insides turned leaden. He was wandless, and trapped in a shed with Lucius Malfoy -- a man he'd helped incarcerate. And what was his protection? A sweaty, shirtless Ron.