Harry keeps telling me he’s fine despite the fact he’s hunched over a bit and winces with every laugh.  I asked Hermione if she knew anything.  She said no, but the flush in her cheeks told me she was lying.

I can tell Harry’s in pain and it hurts me when he hurts.

Seamus nudges my shoulder.  “Isn’t that right, Ron?”

I blink.  “What?”

“Quit staring at Harry and pretend the rest of us exist,” Ginny snaps.  I reckon she’s still not over Harry leaving her for me.  Dean gives her a hug and she sighs.  He’s been good for her and will be better when she let’s Harry go completely.

I sigh and return Seamus’s shove.  “What was the question?”

“Isn’t it right that we should skip the country for the anniversary?”

I grimace.  The anniversary of the end of the war is in two weeks.  Reporters are already bothering all of us, Harry, Hermione and I especially.

“Sounds good,” I agree, glancing over at Harry.

He doesn’t look too good, a gray cast to his skin.  Looking around the table, I make our excuses before standing and dragging Harry away.

“We didn’t have to leave so suddenly,” he pouts as we walk to the Apparition point.

“Yes, we did,” I say.  With the fresh air, he’s looking a bit better.  “You don’t look well.”

He rolls his eyes.  “I’m fine.”

“Then why are you hunched over?”

He doesn’t respond until we get to the Apparition point.  Straightening, he grins wickedly at me, his green eyes hot with lust.  He scans me head to toe with the long, lingering look I know means he’s a half-second from pouncing on me.

I shift my stance hoping to relieve the pressure on my suddenly rock-hard cock.

Harry traces his lips with the tip of his tongue.  While I’m concentrating on those damn lips and remembering what he did to me with them this morning, he flips the hem of his shirt up, flashing the plane of his stomach.

Before I can look down, he Disapparates.

I swear I saw gold against his stomach, though.

Gold?  Why is there gold there?  What did he do?

I Apparate home.  Harry is standing in our living room dressed in only a green silk dressing gown we bought on a whim a handful of years ago.  We were drunk at the time and found the idea of a dressing gown hilarious only to discover later how sensual it felt during sex.

“Are you feeling all right?” I ask.  Though I’m suddenly desperately aroused, I don’t want to jump him if he’s not feeling well.

But when he smiles that smile, the one that slides across his face slowly as if he’s contemplating the ways to taste me, the only thing I want to do is pounce.

“Feeling just fine,” he purrs.  “I did something, though.”

I blink.  “You did?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmurs, taking two steps toward me.  His eyes glitter in the sudden flare of candlelight from the wall sconces behind me.  He’s using wandless magic again.

I lick my lips, delighting in the catch of his breath in reaction.  “What did you do?”

He says nothing but takes the next step to close the distance between us.  His body fits perfect against mine and always has.  He tips his head up to meet my eyes.

“Think of it as a treasure hunt,” he says.

I swallow.  Hard.  A treasure hunt with Harry’s body as the playing field, so to speak?

Before he can change his mind, I bring my hands up to tangle in his hair, forcing his head to the side so I can plunder his mouth.  Both of us moan, the vibrations making the kiss more erotic.

I don’t notice him unbuttoning my shirt until he’s pulled it off my shoulders, tugging against my arms so he can remove it.  I release his head briefly, allowing him to toss aside my shirt, before tangling one hand in his hair again.  With my other hand, I skim down his back, fingernails a soft whisper against the silk.  His fingers stutter against my fly when I squeeze his arse.

Breaking our kiss, he gasps my name against my lips.  I can only moan again.

We part long enough for me to pull my jeans, socks and trainers off.  I’ve barely turned back to Harry before he’s on his knees before me.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan as his lips wrap around my cock.  He grips my hips tightly, holding me still, while he works me with his mouth.  Harry has learned exceptionally well how to torment me with a blow job since our first disastrous encounter so many years ago.  I tangle my hands in his hair once again, meeting his eyes.

“You look good on your knees,” I groan.  He hums in amusement, knowing that’s all I need to come, filling his mouth.

He swallows then backs away.  Grabbing my hands, he tugs me down to my knees.  That wicked smile on his lips once again, he pulls me into a kiss.  I love the taste of myself in his mouth, knowing that he submits to no one but me.

“You ready for your treasure hunt?” he asks, voice nearly a hiss.

With a growl, I tackle him.  He laughs, not with humor but with dark, erotic promise.  Since he’s taken the edge off my arousal, I can concentrate on him now.  Taking his hands in mine, I stretch him out underneath me.

I swear he purrs.

Harry, once he began to relax about what’s between us, became the most sensual person I know.  I’m sure Hermione would say it has something to do with a touch-starved childhood, but I don’t care.  All that matters to me is how much he enjoys every touch between us.

Gently rocking my hips against his silk-covered cock, I feast upon his neck.  He arches upward against me, moaning.

“No treasure here,” I murmur, sliding my lips to his collarbone.

He swallows once before gasping as I nip him.

Did I mention Harry likes it a little rough, too?”

Trailing my tongue over the bite, I gather both his hands in one of mine, pinning them above his head.  He whimpers.  I perform the same nibble and lave action on his other collarbone.  When I nip him, he arches underneath me, body taut.

“No treasure here,” I tease.  The noise he makes in response is a combination of a growl and a groan.

Humming softly, I lick my way from the hollow of his throat to his nipples.  Harry’s breathing speeds, not panting yet, but close.  The panting begins when I suck hard on one nipple then take the peak between my teeth.

He writhes beneath me, tormenting me just as much as himself with his squirming.

Releasing his nipple, I look up and meet his tempestuous gaze.  “No treasure there.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, dissolving into a moan when I give his other nipple the same treatment.

I have to straddle his thighs to still, or at least control, his movements.  He retaliates by arching upward again, the silk a sensual barrier between us.

Pulling the silk apart to bare his chest completely, I run my tongue down to his navel.  Harry’s panting so hard by now that I’m surprised he isn’t seeing stars.  Then again, he might since he’s saying very little.

“No treasure here either,” I say.  Releasing his hands, I fold mine atop his stomach and rest my chin upon them.  “Is there a treasure?”

“Oh yes,” he breathes.  He hikes his upper body up on bent arms, allowing him to look down at me.  That wicked gleam in his eye returns just before he hisses something in Parseltongue at me.

Damn him.

Ripping open his dressing gown with the intention of giving him a blow job while he speaks Parseltongue, I find the “treasure”:  a Snitch tattoo just above the base of his cock.

“I found the treasure,” I murmur softly.

I hear him lick his lips.  “No, you didn’t.”

“Oh?”  I bend my head and swipe my tongue over the Snitch.

“Look lower,” he moans.

Extremely curious now, I look lower.  Gold flashes under his cock.  Spreading his thighs further apart, I’m not sure whether to gasp or moan.  There is a body piercing, a gold ring, through his scrotum just under where his cock would lay if it weren’t hard.

“This is why you’ve been uncomfortable all evening?” I ask softly.  Lifting his legs over my shoulders allows me to study what he’s done, both the piercing and the tattoo.

“Yes,” he moans.

The tattoo isn’t raised, nor is the area around the ring inflamed, so he must have cast powerful healing charms afterward on both.  The thought briefly passes through my mind about what the artist must have seen to do the work, but I dismiss the spurt of jealousy.

Leaning forward, I slip my tongue through the ring and tug gently.

Harry falls back to the floor with a thud, hands slamming onto the floor, thighs tense against my shoulders.  “Fuck,” he groans.

I mentioned he liked pain, right?

“Is that why you did it?” I ask softly, my breath hot against his damp skin.

“I didn’t know it would feel like that,” he says wonderingly.  “Again.”

Stifling my smile, I tug the ring again.

“Stop!” he pants.  “If you do it again, I’ll come.”  He pauses while I grin.  “Inside me, inside me now.”

Sucking his balls into my mouth briefly, it pleases me tremendously when a tremor runs through his whole body.

“Fuck me now, Ron!” he nearly shouts.

Instead, I press my tongue to the sweet spot behind his balls before dragging it to his entrance.  Another tremor runs through him.  I tease him with the tip of my tongue, flicking it across his entrance, upward to his cock, then down again.

“Please,” he pants.

I straighten up, lowering his legs until his ankles rather than his knees are on my shoulders.  Harry casts a wandless lubrication spell, but I don’t prep him any further.  Gripping his hips, I slide myself inside him.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans.  I say nothing, merely bend him nearly in half as I kiss him.  When we part, he demands, “Harder, Ron.”

“If you insist,” I reply breathlessly.

Bracing my hands on either side of his chest, I drive into him hard and deep.  Harry begins hissing in Parseltongue, something he does when he’s extremely aroused and that never fails to arouse me further.  It doesn’t take long at all before I come deep inside Harry.  A moment later, he comes, coating his stomach and mine.

I collapse upon him, his legs falling from my chest to the floor with a muted thump.

A moment later, I realize I feel a fluttering low against my stomach.  Pulling back, ignoring the sticky mess for now, I look.  The Snitch.

Looking up at Harry, he grins tiredly.  “Imagine how that will feel against your cock when I fuck you.”

I can’t wait.