Work Text:
Ron rolled over and stretched out an arm in Harry’s direction, only to find the bed empty. One sniff and he realized it was the smell of bacon and sausages frying that had woken him. He smiled and stretched lazily. Harry’s habit of rising early and cooking breakfast was the only thing Ron appreciated about the Dursleys, and his mum had told him you should always try to find the good in everyone.
He rolled out of bed and padded naked to the loo to relieve himself, smiling again as he thought about the day he had planned. He was a little surprised that he wasn’t dead tired, and he really hoped Harry felt equally well rested, or his plans would have to wait. They’d collapsed into bed last night, too tired for anything more than a chaste kiss and murmured ‘I love you’s’ before falling into an exhausted sleep. They’d just finished an assignment that should have only taken a few hours—a day at most—but stakeouts didn’t always go according to plan and they’d been on location for nearly 36 hours without sleep other than for one of them to nod off for a few minutes while the other kept watch.
Today was the start of a much-needed three-day weekend for them, and Ron planned to spend the first one in bed, making love with his man. Ron flushed the toilet and washed his hands, then remembered to clean his teeth before going back into the bedroom to find a clean pair of pants.
Harry was at the stove, sliding eggs onto the plate of bacon and sausages when Ron came up behind him and snaked his arms around Harry’s middle. Harry’s movements paused as he made a contented purr and leaned back into Ron, twisting his head to the side for a quick kiss and the customary ‘good mornings’.
They ate in companionable silence for most of the meal, then Harry asked what Ron wanted to do for their first day of freedom. Ron tried to hide his mischievous thoughts by saying he’d like to go to the Canons game on Saturday, but today he thought he’d just like to stay home and relax, maybe snuggle up and watch the telly a bit. Harry seemed to accept that answer and, after pushing his last bit of toast into his mouth, announced he was going to get a shower.
Ron hastily swallowed the rest of his food after Harry left the kitchen, then bolted for the back door. He grabbed his rucksack off a hook on the wall and rummaged through its contents, pulling out a rectangular cardboard package and looking quite pleased with himself.
50 WAYS TO PLEASE YOUR LOVER, the package proclaimed.
Ron fumbled open the package and pushed one of the five little pills out of its plastic casing on the little card inside. He stuffed the package back into his rucksack and replaced it on the hook, then popped the pill into his mouth, grimacing at the taste. He managed to swallow the pill, but practically gagged before running back to the table and swigging a gulp of his pumpkin juice to wash the foul taste out of his mouth.
“Bloody menaces is what they are,” he muttered under his breath on his way to the loo to join his lover in the shower. Already he could feel the stirring of arousal, although to be fair, he wasn’t sure if that was just from the thought of Harry wet and naked in the shower, of if the twins’ latest creation was already working its magic.
By the time Ron reached the loo, he was fully hard. As he stood at the sink cleaning his teeth a second time—this time to try to rid himself more fully of the nasty taste of the pill he’d taken—he couldn’t help rocking his hips slightly in response to the needy feel in his cock and balls. This is going to be brilliant, he thought.
Satisfied his breath wouldn’t give his naughty plans away, Ron slipped into the shower with Harry, who gasped in surprise. With the water running and his eyes tightly closed as he shampooed his hair, Harry hadn’t realized he was no longer alone in the loo. Once again he gave a contented purr and leaned back into Ron, this time rubbing his bum seductively against Ron’s now-throbbing erection.
“Aarrghhhhhh,” Ron groaned at the contact on his sensitive prick. “Godric, I want you Harry. I don’t think I can wait.” Harry just held up a hand, wandlessly and wordlessly summoning the lube from the bedroom. He hated the burn that came with using soap or shampoo for lubricant when they fucked in the shower.
“Bloody show-off,” Ron teased, holding out his hand for Harry to squeeze some of the slippery substance from the tube into his hand. He slicked the lube onto his aching cock, then slathered the rest between Harry’s cheeks, seeking out the puckered hole with his fingers. He was in such a hurry to be inside his lover, he pushed two into him to start and Harry winced slightly at the unexpected stretch.
Ron didn’t apologize, knowing Harry could take it. He pumped his fingers in and out, twisting and scissoring them as he went, whispering filthy words into Harry’s ear about what he planned to do to him before the day was done. Harry moaned and pressed his bum down against Ron’s hand, seeking friction against his prostate. Ron’s fingers finally brushed against it and Harry reached for his own cock with one hand, resting the other one against the wall.
“Fuck me, Ron. I’m ready,” he begged.
Ron didn’t need to be told twice. His cock was already dripping with pre-cum and he was desperate to be inside his lover. He slipped his fingers free of Harry’s passage and nudged the tip of his cock into their place. He had to bend his knees just slightly to be sure the angle was right, then reached around Harry to take over wanking him. He gripped Harry’s erection tightly at the base, using it to anchor him into place as Ron thrust smoothly inside of him. Both men cried out in satisfied moans as Ron’s balls slapped against Harry’s arse.
There was nothing slow or tender about their coupling in the shower. Ron pounded into Harry hard, forcing the other man to cling to the towel bar on the wall to keep himself upright. He would have felt guilty, but with every brush to his prostate, Harry ground his bum against Ron’s pelvis and cried out for more. Ron wasn’t sure if it was from going several days without release or from the twins’ magic pill, but he felt like he’d boil over if he didn’t come soon.
“Oh God, Ron—” Harry cried out as his release took him. He shot ropes of thick, white semen onto the shower wall, his internal muscles tightening reflexively as he did and practically ripping Ron’s orgasm from his overly sensitive prick.
“Fuck, fuck!” Ron cried out. The pleasure of the orgasm was so intense that it practically bordered on pain. He drove into Harry hard and Harry tried to shove his bum back against Ron to milk his release from him fully. Ron’s hips kept twitching reflexively into Harry with each spurt until his orgasm subsided, and he rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder to whisper he loved him. Harry returned the sentiment and wiggled his hips, expecting Ron to soften and slip from his body.
It didn’t happen. Ron’s penis remained fully hard, lodged inside Harry’s arse until he carefully backed up and pulled out.
Harry turned slowly and looked first at Ron’s cock, then up at Ron’s face, which was flushing with colour. “I thought you came, too,” Harry said tentatively.
“I did,” Ron said sheepishly. “I guess this is what you get for making me go without so long.”
“Git,” Harry said playfully. “It wasn’t me making you wait. Blame Robards. I don’t think he’d appreciate our shagging on duty too much.”
“Yeah, mate, but it was you who had the brilliant idea to become Aurors.”
“Dry off and come to bed, and I’ll take care of that,” Harry said with a smirk on his face. “I don’t think my knees fancy another round in here.”
Round two in the bedroom consisted of Harry giving Ron a rather spectacular blow job, and round three found Harry coming buried balls-deep in Ron’s arse because he always got aroused while sucking Ron’s cock. Ron had surreptitiously wanked himself as Harry fucked him because he had still been rock hard after Harry’s blow job, although he doubted Harry had really noticed that in his haste to bury himself inside his lover’s arse. It was after this third orgasm whilst Harry came inside him that Ron began to get a little concerned.
Harry collapsed against Ron’s back, sated and bone tired, knocking the other man flat on the mattress. He nuzzled his nose against Ron’s sweaty neck and said something about thinking they needed another shower, then perhaps they could take a little break and watch the telly.
Ron had groaned and said he just wanted to sleep, but Harry persisted, telling him he’d rest better if he were clean. He’d crawled off of Ron and nudged him over onto his back, gasping when Ron’s erection came into view along with the puddle on the bed where Ron had come while Harry fucked him.
“But you’ve already come three times!” Harry exclaimed. “How—”
“Can I help it if you turn me on?” Ron tried to diffuse the situation, cutting Harry off before he could think on it too much. “Are you too sore to let me fuck you again?” Ron waggled his eyebrows for effect.
Harry smiled at his lover and said “Never” before picking up the lube he’d used on Ron and dropped onto the bed only a few minutes before. He settled himself on his back in the center of the bed.
Ron took his time this time, his earlier sense of urgency having abated some after three orgasms in fairly rapid succession. He lay atop Harry’s body and they kissed, long and slow, their sweat-slicked bodies sliding together until Ron felt Harry’s cock begin to stir against his belly. Ron grinned against Harry’s mouth.
“Guess I’m not the only one randy this morning after all,” he teased before sliding down Harry’s body, nipping at a collarbone before moving on to tease a nipple between his teeth. That action always got a rise out of Harry and Ron was not disappointed, feeling Harry’s cock firm against his chest.
Ron continued his downward journey slowly, pausing to nip at the other nipple, then moving on to plunge his tongue into Harry’s belly button before scooting down farther and taking Harry’s almost hard prick into his mouth.
Ron deep-throated his lover into full hardness, then set a slow and steady rhythm bobbing his head up and down, dragging his lips tantalizingly along Harry’s shaft. He pulled back and sucked at the head, causing Harry to swear, then swirled his tongue around before jabbing it into the slit to collect the pearl of fluid oozing from the tiny opening. Ron slid his mouth all the way to the base again, massaging the length of Harry’s shaft with his tongue as he went and earning a breathy moan from Harry.
Ron pulled his mouth off Harry’s cock with a slurp and shifted around to take Harry’s balls into his mouth, kneeding them with his tongue and smiling around their bulk when he felt them fill and tighten. He shifted lower still, nudging Harry’s thighs apart and pushing his hands underneath Harry’s arse to lift him up off the bed a bit.
“Fuck,” Harry swore in anticipation of what he knew was coming.
Ron swirled his tongue around Harry’s tender hole, causing him to hiss at the delicious sensitivity he always felt shortly after being fucked. This was Ron’s favorite time to rim his boyfriend anyway, when every nerve ending was on alert and Harry could feel even the softest touch of his tongue. He pulled gently at the furled opening with his thumbs, teasing the hole to relax and to allow his tongue room to push inside.
Harry panted from the intensity of the feeling as Ron’s tongue slithered its way inside him, softly soothing the previously abused flesh. It always felt brilliant when Ron did this to him, but Harry didn’t think a feeling could be more spectacular than having Ron’s tongue buried in his arse so soon after having been thoroughly fucked. There had been times that he’d come, completely untouched, just from Ron rimming him—although he didn’t expect that now when he’d already had two orgasms this morning. He was fully hard again, but he knew a third orgasm for him was going to take a little more direct contact.
Ron could tell when Harry needed more and obligingly replaced his tongue with his fingers. He quickly found his mate’s prostate and set about giving it a thorough and purposeful massage until Harry was bucking his hips and a string of sticky fluid dripped from the tip of his penis down to his belly.
Ron carefully removed his fingers from Harry’s arse and positioned himself once again at his entrance. He stared directly into Harry’s eyes as he entered him this time, mouthing the words ‘I love you’ as he sank into him all the way in one smooth stroke.
Ron gently lowered himself onto Harry for a kiss and the pair rocked together in a rhythmic dance, moving them slowly toward their goal. This time, it was all about showing their love for each other. When Ron felt his balls tighten for the fourth time since breakfast, he reached between himself and Harry and stroked his lover to completion as he emptied himself inside Harry’s arse then collapsed on top of him, practically as exhausted as he’d been the night before after working a 36 hour shift.
When his prick had finally softened enough to slip free of Harry’s body of its own volition, Harry nudged him and playfully told him to get off if he didn’t want to have to explain to the Head Auror how he’d suffocated his partner while they were off duty. Ron rolled to the side and immediately over onto his belly when he realized he was still far too erect for someone who’d just had an orgasm, not to mention four. This might not be good, he thought.
Harry crawled out of bed and said he was going for another shower. He asked Ron to join him, but Ron told Harry to go ahead while he caught his breath. Harry tied to coax him, but Ron threatened to fuck him again if he joined him, so Harry threw the pillow at him, jokingly said “you wish” and headed into the loo alone.
As soon as Harry was out of the room, Ron rolled onto his back and glared at his traitorous prick which, by then, was solidly staring up at him. I’m going to kill Fred and George he thought as he squeezed a bit of lube onto his palm and grasped his now-sore shaft.
Ron wanked himself frantically while Harry was in the shower, sure that one more time would do it. After all, his erection had subsided briefly after that last time he’d fucked Harry. But Ron’s luck was not that good. He’d pulled himself to quick completion, ignoring the discomfort of the friction on his shaft and the tenderness in his poor, overused bollocks, only to discover that he was fully erect within only moments after coming. The rigidness of his prick had only waned slightly immediately after his orgasm.
Ron grabbed his bathrobe and padded into the parlour, grabbing a handful of floo powder and squatting awkwardly before the grate. He glanced down to make sure the robe covered his unruly prick before tossing the powder into the grate and calling out the twins’ address.
Fred and George were helpfully at the table together having tea when Ron’s head appeared in their fire.
“What the bloody fuck have you done to me?” Ron demanded without preamble.
For once, the twins were a bit speechless as neither had any idea what their little brother was on about. After a rather embarrassing explanation about how Ron’s morning had gone, and a long bout of uncontrolled laughter from the twins, Fred looked at Ron with the most serious expression he could muster under the circumstances.
“Some people,” he began.
“Just never learn,” George finished for him helpfully.
“Serves you right,” Fred said sternly.
“Nicking things from our back room when we trusted you to mind the store.”
“I didn’t nick it,” Ron insisted, his frustration still quite present. “I paid for the bloody pills, the full price marked on the label. I didn’t realize I needed to mention to you I’d been the one to buy them. I was a little embarrassed you’d think I was having trouble getting it up, when that wasn’t the case. I just wanted to be able to get it up more than once so I could spend the whole day with Harry.” Ron’s face was bright red, and the heat of the flames surrounding his head probably had little to do with it.
“Ahh, but you see, little brother, that particular product,” George explained, “is still in development.”
“The concept is for the five pills supplied in the 50 Ways pack to give you ten orgasms each, spaced out to span a full weekend,” Fred continued.
“The problem,” George went on, “is in the delivery.”
“Once you pop one of those little babies,” Fred laughed, “that prick of yours isn’t going down until you’ve come ten times.”
George pulled a face that almost looked sympathetic. “And I gotta warn you, little bro—those last couple in particular are going to be pretty painful.”
Ron pulled his head out of the flame, more irritated than before he’d talked to his brothers. He couldn’t even really blame them for his dilemma since the tempting packages hadn’t been out on the showroom floor, but rather back in the storeroom. He’d assumed they were just extra merchandise waiting for restocking, rather than something still in development. Fred had explained they’d sent them off for packaging before they’d realized there was still a problem with their timed-release.
Ron had just gotten back into the bedroom when Harry came out of the shower, toweling his hair and telling him the shower was all his. Ron was thankful he still had the robe on so Harry didn’t notice he was still hard.
After pulling himself off twice in the shower, Ron’s knees were about to buckle and he was completely drained—of everything it seemed except semen. His prick was still standing proudly at attention, even though the rest of his body was ready to collapse on the shower floor.
He climbed wearily out of the shower and dried himself off, dressing in his loosest pair of sweats and a stretched out t-shirt, partly to keep Harry from noticing the state he was in, but mostly to keep the fabric from rubbing too much against his engorged and sore organ. He walked slowly into the kitchen and grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge and yelled to ask Harry if he wanted one as well. He then made his way into the parlour and handed Harry a bottle before flopping down onto the opposite end of the sofa and trying to focus on the telly, hoping the distraction would take his mind off his prick and maybe his erection would go away.
It didn’t really work. Ron stayed rock hard, but it was thankfully obvious only to him because his loose clothing hid it well. He suffered through the last several minutes of a Cricket match—a sport he didn’t completely understand, but one that Harry seemed to like—and a half hour of a cheesy comedy show, but every time he shifted his position on the sofa, he was painfully aware his cock wanted attention. He managed to get interested in some Muggle film about a pirate named Jack Sparrow, and that might have helped for awhile if he’d been straight, but Jack was a rather hot guy and Ron soon realized he was going to have to come soon or he’d go mad. He hadn’t realized he’d begun to fuck the air an hour into the film until Harry crawled over to him on the sofa, laughingly asking what had got into him today.
“Well, you have once,” Ron said fondly, “but to be honest, I’d like you to do it again.”
Harry called him an animal, then slid his sweats and his pants down his legs to reveal his straining prick. Harry sucked him slowly while Ron watched the sexy pirate on TV and bucked his hips, needing more contact even though his penis was truly getting sore. He came down Harry’s throat with little warning, but Harry managed to swallow it all anyway.
Harry looked up at Ron as he pulled his mouth off Ron’s still semi-hard cock and asked if he was serious about wanting to be fucked again. Harry pushed himself to his knees, and Ron could see that Harry was tenting his own sweats. Ron nodded quickly, knowing he was only up to number eight and he was going to need two more orgasms if he truly wanted any relief today.
“I want to fuck you over the back of the sofa,” Harry said, and Ron hurriedly jumped up and shucked off his sweats and pants and assumed the position. Harry summoned the lube from the bedroom and squeezed some onto his fingers before working them into Ron. Ron winced as the intrusion pushed him toward the back of the sofa enough for his prick to brush against it. God, his cock was sore!
“Sorry,” Harry said, and pressed a kiss against Ron’s shoulder blade.
“S’okay,” Ron whispered, unable to explain that it wasn’t Harry’s fingers that caused him to wince, but the rough fabric of the sofa against his abused prick.
Ron loved the feel of Harry fucking him, particularly since it felt extra naughty to do it bent over the back of the sofa. When Harry shifted his weight, changing the angle of his prick inside Ron’s arse so that it battered against Ron’s prostate on every thrust, Ron knew his ninth orgasm was eminent. The feeling of Harry flooding his insides with hot spunk was all it took to send him over the edge, but he was unprepared for how much it burned as his semen sprayed out onto the back of the sofa.
Ron let out a rather agonized cry and several colourful expletives as he came, and Harry stilled his hips immediately, sounding panicked as he asked if Ron was okay.
“M’okay,” Ron gritted out through clenched teeth. “S’just intense, but I need to finish. Keep fucking me.”
Harry tried, but the anguished sounds coming from his lover were making Harry’s post-orgasmic cock soften more rapidly than normal, so he reached around and stroked Ron until he stopped spurting onto their upholstery.
When Ron tried to stand without the sofa back for support, his knees gave way, and only Harry’s quick reflexes kept him from sprawling bonelessly on the floor. Harry managed a wandless weightlessness charm so he could carry his lover to the sofa, and was about to remark on his own powerful skill as a lover before noticing Ron’s erection remained at the ready.
Suddenly Harry’s ego deflated and his worry took over.
“Ron, I’m taking you to Saint Mungo’s,” he began hastily. “This isn’t normal. You’ve already come six times today and you can barely stand, but your prick hasn’t gone down a bit. I’m going to get us some clothes.” Harry raced across the room and was nearly to the stairs when Ron’s panicked “NO” from the sofa got his attention.
“Y-you can’t, Harry. I can’t go to hospital like this. I just need to come one more time,” Ron begged when Harry came back to the sofa.
“One more time? Mate, you’ve already come six times!”
“Nine.”
“Nine what?”
“Nine times. I’ve come nine times, and I just need one more.”
“One more? Blimey, mate. It’s not like you’re going to get a set of steak knives if you do.” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Huh?” Clearly, Ron didn’t get the Muggle reference. He shook his head. “I just wanted to show you how much I love you. We let work get in the way of us far too much, and I thought if I just had a little help, we could spend the whole day making love.”
Harry didn’t understand, and cautiously asked Ron what he’d done. Ron explained about the 50 Ways pill, and finally had to tell him about his embarrassing floo call to Fred and George when Harry was still insistent on taking him to Saint Mungo’s.
Harry shook his head and mumbled “some people never learn” before kissing his boyfriend on the forehead and going to retrieve a flannel and some salve to clean him up and soothe his abused penis.
“I’m warning you, Ron,” Harry said as he lovingly and gently washed Ron’s groin. “You’re going to rest up a bit. I’ll not do this again until you can at least stand. But if you are still hard after one more orgasm, you’re going to hospital if I have to stun you and levitate you there.”
Harry sealed the floo, which neither of them had thought to do before their tryst on the sofa, and the pair lay naked, cuddled together on the sofa watching telly so Ron could rest. He really couldn’t handle anything touching his cock or he’d need to come again, and he had to admit he was knackered and needed the rest.
Ron had dozed off to sleep, and Harry realized it had been a long while since either of them had eaten. The sun was setting when Harry extricated himself from underneath Ron, and he winced just looking at his lover’s swollen prick and knowing he was going to have to get him off again and soon or seek medical help. He didn’t want Ron to suffer that embarrassment if he could avoid it, but he knew the condition was dangerous if it lasted too long in Muggles and he suspected it was much the same for Wizards, even if the erection was magically sustained.
Harry knew Ron was trying to be romantic when he took the stupid pill and he knew Ron was paying a heavy price for his effort now, so he wanted to try to make Ron’s last—well, hopefully his last—orgasm of the day as painless as he could. He went into the loo and cast a few spells to enlarge their tub and set several candles hovering in mid-air. He drew a bath and added some of the scented lubricating oil that Hermione had given them with an embarrassed grin when she’d come home from visiting a cousin in Paris, then cast a stasis charm to keep it warm. As an afterthought, he went into the bedroom and found Ron’s wand and took it into the bathroom to place beside the tub.
Once he was finished in the bath, Harry went into the kitchen and made them some sandwiches, then levitated a tray out to Ron and woke him. Ron looked grateful for the food, and embarrassed about sitting there eating with an erection. Harry said one day they’d look back on this fondly as the day they set their sexual record, but Ron still looked miserable.
After they’d eaten, Harry reminded Ron of their deal and walked along with him to the loo, relieved that at least Ron was able to walk on his own.
Ron gasped in surprise at all Harry’s handiwork when he entered the bathroom.
“You did this for me?” he asked in awe.
“Well, it’s not as impressive as what you did for me,” Harry said, leering at his lover’s prick, “but I hope it’s something else we can enjoy together—or at least something that won’t cause you as much discomfort as your last orgasm.”
They didn’t talk as Ron settled into the enlarged tub, actually moaning in pleasure as the slick water surrounded his sensitive flesh. Harry climbed in after him and settled his body on top of Ron’s so their cocks were aligned, careful not to fully rest his weight on him. He gestured toward Ron’s wand and asked him to cast a weightlessness charm on him so he could lay against Ron without putting too much pressure on his sensitive bits. Once the charm was cast, Harry lowered himself onto Ron and leaned in for a kiss.
They frotted gently together, kissing and whispering loving words to one another until the tension in their balls drove them to speed their motions. Water began to slosh over the edges of the tub, but neither could be fussed to care. Harry came first, and Ron followed moments later, hissing at the burn as the fluid pumped through his tender shaft. When the tremors subsided, Harry lifted himself up and Ron grabbed his wand to cancel the weightlessness charm before they dared to look. Both men breathed a heavy sign of relief at the sight of Ron’s penis, finally nestling flaccidly in his ginger curls.
Later that night, the two men lay spooned together in their bed, both content to merely cuddle after their long day of sexual activity.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” Ron spoke up suddenly, “when I was watching the shop for the twins that last time, I noticed they’ve added a whole line of sex toys. They had something that was shaped like a prick that wiggles when you tap it with your wand—I think it was called a vibrator. I thought it might be fun to try one of those—you could fuck me with it while I sucked your cock.”
Harry let out a bark of laughter. “God, Ron, after the day we’ve had—some people just never learn.”
After that, the pair fell into a much needed sleep.