A/N: a prompt from Tumblr!
PS I have some shorty drabbles from over there...do you like a collection or separate posts? Those are like 500 words or less. Let me know if you have thoughts? Do you want them at all?
Since the summer after the war - much earlier really - Harry Potter has been head over heels infatuated and fully in love with Ginny Weasley.
It took almost dying multiple times, dying, coming back, and embarrassingly a few more months after to actually realize it was in fact love that simmered in his chest somewhere behind his ribcage. Even then, it was nine days until the simmering feelings boiled up and over so his first "I love you" was said over the top of Teddy's soap suds and peanut butter covered head.
But Ginny has always had that effect, the slow burn of a wick ignited by her smile, a cheeky comment, everything that she is, until he's snogging her in the Gryffindor common room without a second thought.
Or in this case, pressing her against a hotel room door and flirting with violating public decency laws.
"Harry."
He hums against her throat and pops another button on her sundress open.
"Harry," she says again, louder this time. It's more the grip on his cheeks and the pulling that gets his attention though. He flounders a bit, open mouthed like a dim witted guppy before he finds words.
"Yes?"
"There's a whole room waiting to be debauched just a key turn away."
Despite her instructions, Ginny does absolutely nothing to aid Harry in his efforts to open the hotel room. In fact, it begins to feel as if she's catalogued what exactly makes Harry's brain and consequently coordination go to pot.
The fourth time he drops the key, he lets out a long sigh as Ginny chuckles against his neck. "Problem?"
"You do it!" Harry grumbles, hands already busy with the hem of her dress when she picks up the key.
By the time they're inside, Harry feels like he's half a minute from making a fool of himself in his pants and Ginny seems to be of the same mind. The one track type.
At least he thinks so before she gently extricates herself from his hands - pulls them from beneath her skirt - and kicks off her shoes.
He takes some comfort in the fact that her eyes do look a bit glassy and wild, even as her voice is even when she rips his heart out and says, "I think I'll have a bath."
Now guppy-Harry is dejected and depressed rather than dimwitted.
Harry rather robotically steps out of his shoes and takes a long steadying breath. Ginny'd certainly shown all her usual signs of being fully on board with the proceedings. Not that a change of mind isn't possible but -
"Harry."
He startles and half turns. "Yeah?"
"Are you coming?"
"Am I - " Harry starts, turning the remainder of the way to find Ginny watching him from the doorway, expectant and very, very naked.
Her gaze drops and she smirks. "I guess I could use my eyes and answer my own question."
"I'm not that out of control," Harry answers with a grin. One that Ginny mirrors before disappearing back into the loo, followed by the sounds of her twisting the taps on the bathtub.
"Harry," she drawls again, and he's not one to make her wait twice, so Harry quickly strides across the room leaving random bits of clothing in his wake.
By the time he reaches the bathroom, the tub is half full with a little mountainscape of bubbles growing across the water's surface and Ginny is leaning against the sink, absently twirling her hair around one finger. And still very, very naked.
"Thought you were going to keep me waiting all night, sock boy."
He glances down and confirms that yes, he is indeed wearing his socks, and only his socks. "Sexy, right?"
"I'm all aflutter."
"You will be," Harry shoots back with a shocking level of bravado considering Ginny is standing in front of him and clearly rearing to go. He steps closer until his palms land on the cool white marble on either side of Ginny's hips. The sharp sound of her intake of breath brings back his grin in full force.
When he chuckles, Ginny pinches his finger. "Don't act all haughty. I know what almost happened in the hall."
"I admit it," Harry murmurs, lips against her collarbone, "But I also say you're just as gone for me, or are about to be."
One hand slips from the counter, skates over her hip, brushes where she's most sensitive, and draws a long sigh from her lips. He nips at her shoulder while her fingers grasp his, then slips into his hair. "Harry."
As he slowly brings her to the edge, then inches away and back again, Ginny's breaths become short, her words desperate. Harry drags her close to him, hefting her onto the countertop when her legs nearly give out with trembling, until she buries her face in his neck and lets out a long, low sigh.
He pulls his hand free and rests it against her knee while the other moves to cup the back of her head as Ginny's breathing evens out. "You're a monster, Harry James."
Harry hums. "You're welcome."
After another deep breath, Ginny sits straight, some sort of retort on her lips. Though what it was he'll never know because the next sound he hears is a surprised snort. "Guess we got a little distracted."
She nods her head behind him and he turns to follow her direction, only to find half the bathroom covered in a snowstorm-like blanket of bubbles. Warm bathwater laps at his feet and Harry's laugh joins Ginny's.
"What now, Gin?"
Slowly, she slips down from the counter, her fingers tickling below his belly button. "Can't let all those bubbles go to waste."