Prompt: Public Sex (written in Second Person)
Title: That heart of yours
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I´m just playing and enjoying with them.
A/N: For you, sweetheart.
That heart of yours
Since the end of the war all you did in every possible occasion you got to be alone for a little while was make love. It was a magnificent way of reaffirming the miracle: You were alive.
It was clumsy and awkward at first. It became hot and mind blowing later. It was love all the time.
Your reflexive mind arrived to the conclusion that sex was a natural answer to death. You overwhelmed heart made a rude gesture to your mind and reminded you that the connection you shared with the man ravishing your body and soul was how both of you were going to reach the future in one piece.
Now, you find yourself close to orgasm straddling his lap on the driver seat of the Ford Anglia and you want to make an effort and remember how you got there.
He had looked ecstatic when telling you that the car had survived years of abandonment in the Forbidden Forest and, with Hagrid's help, he had managed to get it back for Arthur. And he wanted you to be the first one to see it.
So you saw it. And you got in it. And as the unkind rain poured, you stayed snogging inside like the carefree teenagers you never were. And as more rain started to fall, so did your clothing.
You are not one for voyeurism, but a tiny part of you wants the world to know that below that curtain of rain, in the middle of Hogsmeade, Ron Weasley is burning your flesh, worshipping your body, and bringing you to delirium.
You are shagging your boyfriend inside a car, in one of the more crowed streets in the town nearest to Hogwarts. And you just can't get enough of it.
Among the fog of lust and bliss cursing through your body, the decadency of this moment steals a smile from you. It is this decadency what makes you feel that, instead of pulling Ron to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop to collect supplies like the superlative student you are, or having tea at Madam Puddifoot's like the traditional couple you are not, the best choice was letting him strip off your inhibitions and ride him to screaming oblivion.
As a heavenly release gets the best of you, you snuggle against his chest while trying to avoid the wheel staging your back, and he attempts to accommodate his impossible long legs in the smallest of places. You sigh contently against his neck as you always do; and he hugs you fiercely as he always does; and you realize that the storm is receding so maybe you should gather your clothes and get dressed before anyone takes a peak inside the vehicle only to discover two respectable war heroes finishing the deed.
As you get lost in the trace of his lips one more time, you feel yourself easily come apart once again.
You've seen his heart. And it's yours.