Author: Sazmuffin
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Title: The Luckiest
Ship: Harry/Fred
Rating: T
A/N: Just some shameless PWP fluff. I guess this is another installment of my Harry/Fred epic. They're married now, and so I think you should read Unwind, Enigma, and Red Headband to kinda get it. You don't have to, though.
-
Harry stood in the kitchen, the cheap, 40-watt bulbs casting a yellow glow on the counter tops. His legs were tired; they could barely support his weight. Harry had grown into a very large man, pushing six-feet-two-inches, with broad shoulders and big feet. Trying to rub away the migraine that pounded in his ears, he rested his elbows against in the inch of counter top that stood before the grey sink.
He hated business days. It was insane to have Fred or George attend one of the meetings, surely nothing would be finalized and no paperwork would be done. But still, he hated it just as much as the twins did. Fred had always said that he and George were the inventors and Harry was the businessman, that he had the stature and the mentality to be able to withstand a group of droning, balding men in their fifties.
His tie was choking him and his shoes were far from being worn in, encasing his feet as if they were prisoners in a jail. Harry didn't hear Fred's approaching footsteps; being so lost within your mind will do that to you. The redheaded twin wrapped his hands around Harry's body, lifting up his husband's back.
Standing just above him, Fred brought his hands up to rub Harry's shoulders and neck, working out all the painful kinks that took up residence in his muscles. Hearing no objection from the younger man, he flicked his tongue out and licked at the shell of Harry's ear, something Fred knew he loved. Harry completely relaxed in Fred's arms, leaning his neck back to plant a lover's kiss on the other man's lips.
Fred pulled away from his embrace, retreating to Harry's neck, sucking love bits without abandon, reasoning that Harry will just have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow. His hands swiftly loosened his tie, loving the hissing sound the fabrics made as they slid past each other. Fred's large hands unbuttoned Harry's maroon shirt, revealing his magnificently sculpted torso. His mouth ventured down onto his shoulder, leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses.
Throughout this extremely successful whack at relaxing him, Harry kept his head slightly tilted backwards, his eyes shut and his mouth open and emitting moans of appreciation and pleasure. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care if Fred wanted to keep it strictly necking or if he wanted to go all the way, as long as he didn't stop.
Feeling Harry's naked back against his naked torso, Fred paused for a moment and perched his mouth next to his ear. Asking him about his day, it didn't matter to him if he responded or not. His long, strong arms wrapped around his mid-section, he began to rock side-to-side, smiling as Harry's head fit right next to his. Fred reveled in this rare, intimate moment. It wasn't desperate as their other intimacies were, it was simply enjoying one another's company. He loved having Harry in his arms, he enjoyed making him feel safe.
The raven-haired man gently turned to face his lover, lifting his face up, silently asking for another kiss. Fred smiled and kissed his open lips lightly, nipping at them and teasing his tongue. This clearly was not that kind of contact Harry was hoping for, seeing as he clamped down on Fred's lips with a monster's ferocity.
One thing Fred loved about Harry was that he was completely content in taking him as if he belonged to him or playing the part of a timid newlywed. Fred thought it was the most adorable thing he'd ever come in contact with, however self-conscious it made his spouse.
The hours of the night passed and Fred woke up in their bed, his hand possessively resting on Harry's breastbone. The younger man was spooned into his body, holding onto Fred's hand as if it were a lifeline. Fred smiled, watching as the morning light illuminated up his face. He stroked Harry's hair and face, gently waking him out. Within moments, those emerald orbs were looking back into his own blue ones. Harry pecked his pink lips, grinned a goofy grin, and got up to take a shower.
Fred watched his retreating back, resting his head on his palm. He was the luckiest bloke on the planet.
