Fic: if hands were enough
Discovered in a forgotten corner of the HD - a Harry/Ron double-drabble. This was, in all probability, going to be something longer.
Title: if hands were enough
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: R
Words: 200
A/N: Set some time after the end of DH, non-epilogue compliant. Title from Thom Gunn, 'The Man with Night Sweats'.
*
This isn't a good idea, Ron knows, at least in that small part of his brain that's still thinking. Harry's leaning in, he can smell the Firewhisky on his breath, hand warm on Ron's thigh -
He's Harry, his brain says, sounding awfully like Hermione.
And you're both far too drunk, she adds.
They apparate at his doorstep. Ron fumbles with the wards, feeling Harry press up against him, feeling the restless hands under his shirt and against his bare skin.
Inside, and Harry's mouth is hot and insistent, he's a good kisser, Harry is -
Probably had a lot of practice with Ginny, Hermione observes, but Harry's hands are moving down, down and Ron doesn't. care.
*
He does care in the morning. Everything's too bright and sharp, Harry's in the kitchen, scruffy and a little lost and Ron can't think. And so he clears his throat and says, 'You all right?'
'Sure. I’m fine,' says Harry, not looking him in the eye.
'Great.' Ron fidgets with his wand. His head hurts.
'I'll, er, head for home, then.'
'Okay.' Ron pours himself a glass of water, watching Harry disappear into the fire.
The flat feels oddly cold and lonely after that.
*
Title: if hands were enough
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: R
Words: 200
A/N: Set some time after the end of DH, non-epilogue compliant. Title from Thom Gunn, 'The Man with Night Sweats'.
*
This isn't a good idea, Ron knows, at least in that small part of his brain that's still thinking. Harry's leaning in, he can smell the Firewhisky on his breath, hand warm on Ron's thigh -
He's Harry, his brain says, sounding awfully like Hermione.
And you're both far too drunk, she adds.
They apparate at his doorstep. Ron fumbles with the wards, feeling Harry press up against him, feeling the restless hands under his shirt and against his bare skin.
Inside, and Harry's mouth is hot and insistent, he's a good kisser, Harry is -
Probably had a lot of practice with Ginny, Hermione observes, but Harry's hands are moving down, down and Ron doesn't. care.
*
He does care in the morning. Everything's too bright and sharp, Harry's in the kitchen, scruffy and a little lost and Ron can't think. And so he clears his throat and says, 'You all right?'
'Sure. I’m fine,' says Harry, not looking him in the eye.
'Great.' Ron fidgets with his wand. His head hurts.
'I'll, er, head for home, then.'
'Okay.' Ron pours himself a glass of water, watching Harry disappear into the fire.
The flat feels oddly cold and lonely after that.
*