Title: Overtime
Author: notearchiver
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: sex clubs
Other Warnings: semi-public sex, rimming, fingering
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary/Description: Working overtime was not high on the list of what Ron expected to be doing that night. Of course, going to a gay sex club with Harry was even lower on the list.
Author's Notes: Much thanks to my beta, F. Any remaining mistakes are mine from last minute fiddling. I am proud to say that not only is it still the nineteenth somewhere in the world, but I wrote my first real piece of smut.
mods, may I have an author tag?


The lift clattered to a stop at Level Two, and Ron groaned as he was jolted against the wall.

"Bloody hell! You'd think the Department of Custodial Workers would've of found a way to make the ride smoother," Ron exclaimed, rubbing his side as he stepped out of the lift. "You know, magic and all?"

Harry laughed, falling into step with Ron as they walked down the dark hallway. "That would be too easy," he said, activating the emergency lighting with a flick of his wand.

It was hours past sunset, and the Ministry of Magic was silent except for the two Aurors' conversation. The walls of the darkened cubicles glimmered faintly in the low lighting, and images of criminals leered at Harry and Ron as they walked past.

Rounding the corner leading to the training wing of the Auror Office, Ron could see the door leading to the showers. He sighed, imagining the hot water washing away the grime of Knockturn Alley, the spray swirling against his skin and relaxing his muscles.

"You've got that right," Harry said as Ron pulled open the door. He raised his arms over his head, the sleeves of his robes falling back reveal veins prominent from recent exertion, and Ron grinned at the ritual stretch. Even after chasing Dark wizards all day, Harry still followed the same routine. "Any plans for tonight?"

"Not unless it involves going back to the flat and sleeping. You?" Ron asked. He pulled his robes over his head and blindly turned the corner. Fighting to free an arm from a sleeve, his robes covered his head and he collided with Harry, nearly falling backwards onto the floor. Ron swore. "Tell a man when you're going to stop, will you? I want to get home alive, and cracking my head on the floor won't help much with that." Ron finally managed to extricate his right arm from the sleeve and tossed the robes over his shoulder.

"Er, good evening, sir," Harry said.

Ron looked over Harry's shoulder to see Kingsley sitting on a bench, a bag and sheaf of parchment by his side. His rich purple robes looked out of place against the stark white tiles and metal lockers assigned to Aurors.

"Oh shit. Sorry, sir. I didn't see you there," Ron said, hurriedly picking up the discarded robes. He moved to stand next to Harry, grateful for the reassuring smile Harry shot him. Even after five years as an Auror, he was still nervous every time he saw his superior. There was something about Kingsley's presence that made him shiver.

Kingsley nodded at them and picked up the sheaf of parchment, his face serious. "Good evening, boys. Nice work catching Haney today. Creevey's processing him as we speak."

Ron twitched. It didn't help his nervousness at all that Kingsley still referred to them as boys. His mother called him a boy, for Merlin's sake. That the Head of the Auror Department called him that was humiliating.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "If you may excuse me for asking, what are you doing here at this time of night? Is there an emergency?"

"Not quite." Kingsley shuffled the parchments until they were in a neat stack. "You know how the Department has a rise of reports on suspicious activities flooding in lately?"

Ron glanced at Harry, who was rubbing his stubbled jaw where a piece of blunted metal rail hit by a poorly aimed Reductor Curse had hit him. He winced in sympathy. The bruise appearing promised to be nasty.

"Yeah," Harry said, grimacing slightly. "What's that got to do with us?"

When Kingsley didn't reply immediately, Ron felt a heavy weight settle in his abdomen as he realised what was going on. "No," he protested, forgetting his nervousness. "We just got back from a mission. Three days rest and all according to that new law, right? You can't send us back out again!"

Kingsley sighed. "I'm afraid I have to. Too many cases are piling up. Everyone is taking on extra." He took the top sheet of parchment from the pile and held it out.

Harry took the parchment and began to study it. Ron watched silently, noting the confused expression forming on Harry's face.

"Sir, are you sure this is the correct file?" Harry asked. "The instructions say this should be completed tonight."

Ron took the parchment from him and quickly scanned preliminary information. Harry was right. The day's date was written in the top corner.

Kingsley stood up and handed the bag to Harry. "It's an easy assignment. It shouldn't take more than two hours. Really, I could have put Hatchet and Greengrass on it, but I thought you two deserved an easy one after the work you put in today," he said, manoeuvring around Harry and Ron and opening the door. "Don't bother coming in when you're done. Just finish the paperwork and send it to me by owl."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, and Ron nodded his head in agreement. "Any other instructions?"

Kingsley looked at the pair, and Ron shifted a bit closer to Harry. "Shower and use some Bruise Balm before you leave, Potter, Weasley. You look a mess," Kingsley exited, the door swinging shut behind him.

Dropping his robes back onto the floor, Ron tossed the piece of parchment onto the bench and began to unlace his boots before stripping off his clothes and opening his locker. "I, for one, am going to take Kingsley's advice and have a long shower," he declared, rummaging for a jar of Bruise Balm and his shampoo. He glanced at Harry, who had sat down on the bench and was scanning the piece of parchment. "What's the matter?"

Harry ignored his question. "Did you read all of this?" he asked, waving the parchment at Ron.

Ron shrugged, casually inspecting a bruise on his inner thigh. "Not really. I just skimmed it." He prodded at the bruise, watching change colour when the pressure eased. "All we have to do is determine is spells are being used on a Muggle establishment owned by a wizard to illegally attract more customers, right? We don't even have to use Polyjuice or anything because the owner is never around. Seems simple enough."

Shoving the parchment under Ron's nose, Harry said, "You might want to look at where we're supposed to be doing this," then began to remove his clothes, throwing them in the designated bin for the house-elves to take care of.

Ron examined the information. "It says we're going to somewhere called 'Hoist'." He shrugged and watched Harry pull of his shirt. A large bruise coloured the right side of Harry's chest, the mottled skin merging oddly with his nipple. Reaching down, Ron ran a finger across the bruise, pulling back when Harry shivered under his touch. Ron flushed. "So," he continued quickly, "should that mean anything to me?"

Grabbing the Bruise Balm, Harry scooped out a glob and spread it on his chest. "Look what it says next to that in the small print," he said.

Ron brought the parchment closer to his face and squinted. "Gay sex club?" he said, voice strangled. "Kingsley is sending us to a sex club?"

"Mmhmm." Harry nodded, casually rubbing in the ointment. "It should be interesting." He didn't look up.

"Yeah, interesting," Ron said faintly, watching the bruise surrounding Harry's nipple slowly fade.
He tried to imagine what it would look like. There would probably be naked men having sex, right? It was a sex club. Would he and Harry have to be naked?

His cock twitched.

"I'll just go have a quick shower," Ron said, grabbing a towel and rushing to a private stall.

------

Ron stood nervously in a corner, trying to avoid looking at the groups of men having sex as he waited for Harry to return from the loo. The problem was, it was hard to ignore them. Groans echoed from all sides, punctuated by the sound of flesh slapping flesh. He shifted, trying to relieve the building pressure building against his trousers.

Someone touched his arm, and Ron jumped.

"It's just me, Ron."

Ron turned to see Harry, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and trousers, leaning against the wall next to him. His green eyes were luminous under the soft lights and his black hair, still wet from the shower, shone as he tilted his head.

"Can we go yet?" Ron whispered, edging closer to Harry. "We already found the spells. There's no reason to stay."

"Just relax. I didn't pay the entry fee just to leave five minutes after we came," Harry answered, hand fiddling with something in his pocket.

"Then what did you pay the entry fee for?"

Ron saw a bit of nervousness cross Harry's face, but then it disappeared and Harry backed him into the corner. "This," he said, then brought his lips to Ron's.

Ron hit the wall with a thump, his mind emptying of all thoughts as Harry pressed against him. He no longer heard the groans of the men around them, only Harry whispering for him to turn around.

Bracing himself against the wall, Ron felt a hand travel around his waist to the front of his trousers, a finger dipping under the waistband to brush coarse hairs before moving to lower his fly.

He thought there would be something momentous about being naked where anyone could see him, but there wasn't. There was only the heat of Harry draped against his back and the pressure of a fist around his cock; a finger peeling back his foreskin and a blunt nail smearing pre-come over the head of his cock.

Then the heat was vanished and a rush of cool air swept across his back. Before he could complain, though, Ron felt two hands spread his arsecheeks and he arched his back when the first puff of hot air ghosted across his hole.

"Harry? What are you doing?" Ron asked.

He didn't receive an answer, and the puff turned into a steady stream, then nothing, as a whole new sensation replaced it.

A tongue slid across the puckered flesh, lathing, teasing as it slowly loosened the muscle, each successive swipe entering further but never fully breaching.

Ron pushed back against the wetness, only to find hands holding his hips in place and the feeling disappear.

"Patience, Ron," Harry murmured. "Just a bit longer."

The tongue was back, this time darting in and out of his hole, the lavish heat invading only to recede, and Ron only distantly noted the whispered spell before an oiled finger joined the tongue, the two working in tandem for a time before another finger was added and the tongue disappeared.

The all encompassing heat was back again, as was the hand fisting his cock, and Ron relished in the feeling of Harry surrounding him; Harry's other arm snaking around his chest to hold him close; Harry's mouth drawing patterns on his back.

And then Harry was no longer surrounding him, but in him, the burning heat of his cock sliding in rhythm to his moans that mingled with the other men's.

It wasn't long before Ron felt Harry shudder and a foreign heat flood him, and a final stroke from Harry's slick hand brought him over the edge.

Ron collapsed against the wall, letting Harry's softening cock slide out of him. It was only when Harry covertly whispered a spell to vanish the drying come that Ron remembered where he was.

"How much time do we have left before Kingsley expects us to have finished?" Ron asked breathlessly, turning around to face Harry.

Harry smiled. "Enough."