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Happy Thursday, my lovely magicofisis! I hope you're staying warm. It seems I picked a good week to get the hell out of dodge. :P My parents just asked me what I was working on, lol - so now they send their love and positive, healing vibes, too! But, um, the fic is just from me. ♥.
Title: Altitude Sickness
Author: goneoffthelump
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1200
Summary: Hermione has convinced the boys to come skiing with her and her parents, and the whole thing is just as stupid as Ron always figured it would be.
Warnings: Fluff like freshly powdered snow.
Notes: Ron has been laughing at me in my head all week, as you might imagine, so I figured it was time to just have it out with him. Many thanks to midnightblue88 for looking this over; she did her best, but there really isn't enough oxygen in the air up here, so please forgive me for this.
Altitude Sickness
"I'm back!" Harry calls as he steps into their suite at the lodge and closes the heavy wooden door behind him.
"In here!" Ron calls back. Harry shucks his boots and jacket and follows the sound of Ron's voice until he finds him stretched out on the well-worn sofa in front of the fire. Ron's wearing an oversized Weasley jumper, and matching woollen socks are peeking out from beneath the cuffs of his pyjama bottoms. His left foot is propped up on a pile of cushions.
"So how's the invalid, this afternoon?" Harry asks, smirking.
"Shut up," Ron answers, shifting his bum towards the back of the sofa to make room for Harry to perch next to him. "And I'm fine." Harry smiles and sits. "Did you have a nice time, sliding around out there?"
"I did," Harry says, rubbing a hand over Ron's stomach.
"How many times did you fall today?"
"Only twice," Harry says, indignantly. "I'm getting much better."
"Completely mental, the lot of you."
Harry rolls his eyes. "You're only one healing charm away from joining us tomorrow, you know."
Ron reflexively tucks his injured foot between two cushions. "Leave it alone. If you insist on taking a Muggle holiday, than I insist on healing like a Muggle, too."
"You could just admit that you're scared to come back out on the hill, you know. I wouldn't think any less of you."
Ron glares at him incredulously.
"So, gimpy, how was your day down here in the lodge?"
"Boring. Terribly, terribly boring."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I think you ought to entertain me, now, to make up for it."
"Should I?" Harry says.
"Yes. And I think you should start by getting a lot closer."
Harry smiles and rubs his hand further up Ron's stomach, under his jumper. "You sure?" he says cheekily. "I won't aggravate your injury?"
"Nah," Ron says, shaking his head, and Harry chuckles as he pushes the jumper up Ron's chest, leans down to kiss his pale stomach and nuzzle the trail of light hairs below his navel. Ron sits up just enough to pull the jumper off and Harry climbs over his right leg, settling on his knees between Ron's thighs. He rests his hands just above Ron's knees, pressing his fingers against the thin fabric, then slides his fingertips upwards, over the long stretch of muscle.
Ron groans as Harry glides his fingers over the clear line of Ron's cock through his pyjamas. He rubs his thumbs against Ron's hipbones before reaching for the drawstring of his pants, biting his lip when the loosened waist pulls easily down over Ron's hips, revealing the nothing he's wearing underneath.
"Mmm," Harry murmurs, skating his fingers over Ron's pelvis, along the crease where his groin becomes his leg, down the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Ron shivers and moans and presses his hips forwards. Harry chuckles at Ron's impatience, and leans back to unbutton and push his trousers down, releasing his own eager cock.
Ron's licks his lips, then sucks the lower one between his teeth as Harry climbs up over him, aligning their groins and gently pressing them together.
Harry rubs his nose against Ron's cheek, and he can feel the heat of Ron's skin, warmed from the fire. Ron moans and turns his face towards Harry's, searching for his mouth. Harry turns to meet him, bringing their lips together in time with a firm press of his hips, earning himself a groan from deep within Ron's throat. He licks his way into Ron's mouth, keeping his eyes open so he can watch Ron's expression change with each movement.
Harry's tongue slides against Ron's, and Ron's eyes squeeze shut as he tilts his head to bring their mouths closer together. He almost looks like he's thinking about something, and Harry can't decide if that means he's doing something really well, or that he's not doing well enough.
Then Ron's eyes fly open, and his gaze is positively scandalised as he gasps around Harry's tongue. "What?" Harry asks, pulling back to look at him.
"You-you!" Ron stammers.
"What?" Harry says.
"I can't believe you," Ron pouts.
Harry blinks. "I-what?"
"You promised we'd go together when you got back."
Harry stares at him blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I can taste it, Harry."
"You can taste what, exact-Oh." Harry stops, and averts his eyes guiltily.
Ron pouts some more. "We were supposed to go together, Harry!"
"And we will. There's plenty more to be had."
"But it won't be the same, you've already had some."
"And you would have had, too, if you weren't such a baby. Hermione's dad treated us all."
"I'm injured!"
"You're not. You kicked the foot of the bed on purpose to give yourself a nasty bruise and a convenient excuse to lounge on the sofa all day."
Ron blinks and frowns.
"You thought I didn't know you'd done it on purpose?" Harry asks, smirking.
"Skiing is stupid and pointless, and I don't know why all these Muggles like it so much."
"Oh, please, it's fun, Ron. You just don't want to admit it because you took the piss out of Hermione about it for so long."
Ron glares at him, then lets his head fall back against the sofa with a sigh. "I can't have this argument right now," he says. "There's not enough oxygen in the air up here."
"Oh, that's the problem, is it?"
"And my toe hurts."
Harry arches an eyebrow.
Ron pouts and nudges his hips and still-hard cock at Harry. "Make it better?"
Harry rolls his eyes. "Feeling a bit lightheaded?" Ron nods. "You're ridiculous."
Ron just shrugs and looks at Harry pleadingly.
Harry holds his gaze for a long moment, and can't stop himself smiling. "I suppose I could find some way to help you with this."
He leans down and rubs his cheek against Ron's cock, then slides it between his lips as Ron's fingers press into his hair. Ron moans and twitches his hips in encouragement, and Harry's happy to pick up where he left off.
It doesn't take long before Ron's coming apart, grunting as his cock jerks against Harry's tongue.
Harry climbs up Ron's pliant, panting body and rests his head on Ron's chest. His cock falls against Ron's thigh, and he grinds against it lazily as Ron recovers. Ron's hand comes to rest on Harry's head, fingertips rubbing against his scalp for a minute, before reaching down for Harry's cock.
Harry sighs as his hips press involuntarily forwards, into Ron's hand. "You're lucky I love this so much," he mutters.
"I know," Ron says. "You'd never put up with me, otherwise."
"Obviously."
Ron's fingers give Harry's cock a gentle squeeze, then fall into an easy, practised rhythm.
"We are still going to go get hot chocolate after this, though, right?" he asks.
"Shut up, Ron," Harry says, but he knows the smile is plain in his voice as he leans up to kiss Ron's neck.
Title: Altitude Sickness
Author: goneoffthelump
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1200
Summary: Hermione has convinced the boys to come skiing with her and her parents, and the whole thing is just as stupid as Ron always figured it would be.
Warnings: Fluff like freshly powdered snow.
Notes: Ron has been laughing at me in my head all week, as you might imagine, so I figured it was time to just have it out with him. Many thanks to midnightblue88 for looking this over; she did her best, but there really isn't enough oxygen in the air up here, so please forgive me for this.
Altitude Sickness
"I'm back!" Harry calls as he steps into their suite at the lodge and closes the heavy wooden door behind him.
"In here!" Ron calls back. Harry shucks his boots and jacket and follows the sound of Ron's voice until he finds him stretched out on the well-worn sofa in front of the fire. Ron's wearing an oversized Weasley jumper, and matching woollen socks are peeking out from beneath the cuffs of his pyjama bottoms. His left foot is propped up on a pile of cushions.
"So how's the invalid, this afternoon?" Harry asks, smirking.
"Shut up," Ron answers, shifting his bum towards the back of the sofa to make room for Harry to perch next to him. "And I'm fine." Harry smiles and sits. "Did you have a nice time, sliding around out there?"
"I did," Harry says, rubbing a hand over Ron's stomach.
"How many times did you fall today?"
"Only twice," Harry says, indignantly. "I'm getting much better."
"Completely mental, the lot of you."
Harry rolls his eyes. "You're only one healing charm away from joining us tomorrow, you know."
Ron reflexively tucks his injured foot between two cushions. "Leave it alone. If you insist on taking a Muggle holiday, than I insist on healing like a Muggle, too."
"You could just admit that you're scared to come back out on the hill, you know. I wouldn't think any less of you."
Ron glares at him incredulously.
"So, gimpy, how was your day down here in the lodge?"
"Boring. Terribly, terribly boring."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I think you ought to entertain me, now, to make up for it."
"Should I?" Harry says.
"Yes. And I think you should start by getting a lot closer."
Harry smiles and rubs his hand further up Ron's stomach, under his jumper. "You sure?" he says cheekily. "I won't aggravate your injury?"
"Nah," Ron says, shaking his head, and Harry chuckles as he pushes the jumper up Ron's chest, leans down to kiss his pale stomach and nuzzle the trail of light hairs below his navel. Ron sits up just enough to pull the jumper off and Harry climbs over his right leg, settling on his knees between Ron's thighs. He rests his hands just above Ron's knees, pressing his fingers against the thin fabric, then slides his fingertips upwards, over the long stretch of muscle.
Ron groans as Harry glides his fingers over the clear line of Ron's cock through his pyjamas. He rubs his thumbs against Ron's hipbones before reaching for the drawstring of his pants, biting his lip when the loosened waist pulls easily down over Ron's hips, revealing the nothing he's wearing underneath.
"Mmm," Harry murmurs, skating his fingers over Ron's pelvis, along the crease where his groin becomes his leg, down the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Ron shivers and moans and presses his hips forwards. Harry chuckles at Ron's impatience, and leans back to unbutton and push his trousers down, releasing his own eager cock.
Ron's licks his lips, then sucks the lower one between his teeth as Harry climbs up over him, aligning their groins and gently pressing them together.
Harry rubs his nose against Ron's cheek, and he can feel the heat of Ron's skin, warmed from the fire. Ron moans and turns his face towards Harry's, searching for his mouth. Harry turns to meet him, bringing their lips together in time with a firm press of his hips, earning himself a groan from deep within Ron's throat. He licks his way into Ron's mouth, keeping his eyes open so he can watch Ron's expression change with each movement.
Harry's tongue slides against Ron's, and Ron's eyes squeeze shut as he tilts his head to bring their mouths closer together. He almost looks like he's thinking about something, and Harry can't decide if that means he's doing something really well, or that he's not doing well enough.
Then Ron's eyes fly open, and his gaze is positively scandalised as he gasps around Harry's tongue. "What?" Harry asks, pulling back to look at him.
"You-you!" Ron stammers.
"What?" Harry says.
"I can't believe you," Ron pouts.
Harry blinks. "I-what?"
"You promised we'd go together when you got back."
Harry stares at him blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I can taste it, Harry."
"You can taste what, exact-Oh." Harry stops, and averts his eyes guiltily.
Ron pouts some more. "We were supposed to go together, Harry!"
"And we will. There's plenty more to be had."
"But it won't be the same, you've already had some."
"And you would have had, too, if you weren't such a baby. Hermione's dad treated us all."
"I'm injured!"
"You're not. You kicked the foot of the bed on purpose to give yourself a nasty bruise and a convenient excuse to lounge on the sofa all day."
Ron blinks and frowns.
"You thought I didn't know you'd done it on purpose?" Harry asks, smirking.
"Skiing is stupid and pointless, and I don't know why all these Muggles like it so much."
"Oh, please, it's fun, Ron. You just don't want to admit it because you took the piss out of Hermione about it for so long."
Ron glares at him, then lets his head fall back against the sofa with a sigh. "I can't have this argument right now," he says. "There's not enough oxygen in the air up here."
"Oh, that's the problem, is it?"
"And my toe hurts."
Harry arches an eyebrow.
Ron pouts and nudges his hips and still-hard cock at Harry. "Make it better?"
Harry rolls his eyes. "Feeling a bit lightheaded?" Ron nods. "You're ridiculous."
Ron just shrugs and looks at Harry pleadingly.
Harry holds his gaze for a long moment, and can't stop himself smiling. "I suppose I could find some way to help you with this."
He leans down and rubs his cheek against Ron's cock, then slides it between his lips as Ron's fingers press into his hair. Ron moans and twitches his hips in encouragement, and Harry's happy to pick up where he left off.
It doesn't take long before Ron's coming apart, grunting as his cock jerks against Harry's tongue.
Harry climbs up Ron's pliant, panting body and rests his head on Ron's chest. His cock falls against Ron's thigh, and he grinds against it lazily as Ron recovers. Ron's hand comes to rest on Harry's head, fingertips rubbing against his scalp for a minute, before reaching down for Harry's cock.
Harry sighs as his hips press involuntarily forwards, into Ron's hand. "You're lucky I love this so much," he mutters.
"I know," Ron says. "You'd never put up with me, otherwise."
"Obviously."
Ron's fingers give Harry's cock a gentle squeeze, then fall into an easy, practised rhythm.
"We are still going to go get hot chocolate after this, though, right?" he asks.
"Shut up, Ron," Harry says, but he knows the smile is plain in his voice as he leans up to kiss Ron's neck.