Name: Magic Touch
Summary: Molly walks in on Arthur in a muggle motel and she doesn't like the excuse.
A/N and warnings: This is for Daily Prophet's Crack Fic Competition. Not very crack-ish crack, one teeny tiny f-bomb, general misleading, sexual themes(?), established Molly/Arthur, young Molly and Arthur, mentions of Ford Anglia, muggle motels, Arthur liking muggle things. Grammar errors are my own, word count 484 on Microsoft Word. I blame Supernatural.
Year 1969. Bristol, England.
"I–" Arthur awkwardly clears his throat. "–am happily married, but I have my rights."
He inhales sharply. He is standing in front of a door, looking around the empty corridor with one hand already on the doorknob. He twists the knob, and with a creak the door opens. It's a very nice motel room. Very muggle, Arthur thinks with a delighted grin.
There are two beds in the room and Arthur tosses his jacket on the bed closer the window before closing the curtains and loosening his tie. He strips down his shoes and socks. He's almost giddy with excitement. This is his and Molly's second night at the motel, but now Molly is out and Arthur has a little time for other things before meeting up with her for dinner.
Arthur frisks his pocket for few coins. He has a very little money but it's enough for a while. And he's ready to pay for some… experimentation.
Okay, here we go, Arthur says to himself and lies down on the bed.
It takes a moment before the movement starts. Arthur lets out a startled gasp, not having quite expected it to work like that, but he calms down as he gets more accustomed to the pleasurable feeling. It's almost like magic.
His breathing gets more erratic and he grips on the coverlet, tilting his head back in pleasure when an especially sensitive is nudged. It sends shivers down his spine.
Pressure on his back is amazing. He lets out a throaty moan. He loves every minute of the voluptuous torture he's going through.
But then it stops, leaving Arthur a quivering mess.
His hand darts to his pocket, fishing out another coin, and he pays willingly.
He's willing to pay anything to get the feeling back.
And he does get it back, and oh how he enjoys it. He can't even bring himself to hear the sound of the room's door opening before…
"ARTHUR WEASLEY!" The look on Molly's face shows pure terror.
"Oh hi, honey," Arthur splutters and quickly sits up. Molly glares him from the door before quickly pulling the door close and hissing:
"What on Earth are you doing?! We were meant to meet over fifteen minutes ago!"
"Magic Fingers," he mumbles sheepishly, unable to stop the bed from vibrating. His ears turn the shade of his hair as he avoids Molly's glare. "It's a muggle thing and I–"
Molly immediately flips him off and Arthur snaps his mouth shut. She has never looked so done with her husband.
"No. Fuck this shit"
Her tone is final. She turns and walks away, slamming the door and leaving his husband behind. The bed stops vibrating. Arthur's brows knit together. He pulls his feet up so they touch his chest and starts rocking back and forth. He purses his lips.
"But it's a muggle thing…"
