Title: Jamie's Reward
Author: emiime
Characters: Harry/James
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: incest, chan
Kinks chosen: Please your mods: chan, oral sex, love!
Word Count: 1236
Summary: Harry and James enjoy some father-son time in the greenhouse.
Author's notes: It never explicitly said in the epilogue that Harry and Ginny were married, so for the purpose of this fic I've gone with my head-in-the-sand approach that they are happily divorced. Let's just say the other kids are visiting her for the weekend. Also, this is dedicated to freckles42 who isn't feeling tip-top today and who wanted to see this scenario.



Harry and James had been working silently, side by side, for the better part of the morning. It was Harry's favourite part of the weekends, working with his son in the greenhouse, digging the tiny sprouting weeds and tending to the plants that Neville had supplied. Harry had never thought much about Herbology in school, but as he grew older, he had found solace in the plants he tended. He thought he finally knew what Neville had understood for so many years.

There was an inherent comfort in working with the soft, damp earth, Harry thought, turning it over and over with a spade or with his hands, his son by his side, the only sounds the rain on the glass and the occasional twitter of one of the finches that made the greenhouse their home.

Harry sat back on his heels, admiring their work. They'd got a lot accomplished that morning, and Harry smiled over at James, who was pruning the Flutterby bush, his bottom lip between his teeth, his back bent, his hair falling in his eyes. Finally James seemed satisfied with his work, stepped back, shoved back his fringe, and nodded.

"Nice job, Jamie," Harry said, and James turned and smiled at him.

"Thanks, Dad." James plopped down on the ground beside his dad, wiping perspiration from his brow.

"Neville says you're doing better than ever in Herbology. Says you're the star of his fifth-years." Harry sat cross-legged beside his son and poked him in the ribs while James ducked his head and grinned.

"I guess I'm doing all right. I like it, that's all. And Neville's a good teacher."

"You're doing better than all right, and you know it," replied Harry, slinging an arm around James, "And since you're doing so well, I think a reward is in order." A corner of Harry's mouth twisted upwards as he waited for James to catch on.

"Wait, you mean…a reward? Do I get to choose?"

Harry broke into a full smile. "That's exactly what I mean."

James's eyes lit up with mischief and he crawled into his father's lap, putting his arms around Harry's neck. Harry encircled the boy's wait with his own arms and raised an eyebrow.

"What'll it be today, Jamie?"

James leaned forward and whispered a single word in Harry's ear. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Where did you hear about that?"

James shrugged. "Dunno. People talk about all sorts of things at school. Anyway, can we do it, Dad?"

Harry nodded. "Of course we can. I said you could choose. Shall we do it here, or shall we go upstairs to my bed?"

"Here," James said with a decisive nod, "I like being here with you, Dad."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out through his nose, then leaned forward and kissed his son on his forehead. "I like being here with you, too, son." He took up his wand, then, and cast a cushioning charm on the earth between the Flutterby bush and a bed of Tenacious Tendrilvines. James pulled off his t-shirt and lay there on the earth, propped up on his elbows, waiting.

"So handsome," Harry said softly to himself, and he stripped off his own shirt and trousers and sank down beside James, running his hand down his son's smooth chest.

James closed his eyes and smiled, murmuring Dad as he shivered under Harry's touch. His skin was warm to the touch, glowing with perspiration as the rain ended and the sun slanted into the greenhouse. Harry kissed his son's collarbone, and James sighed.

"Take off your trousers, Jamie," Harry said against his son's skin, and James did, unbuttoning them and shoving them down and kicking them off his ankles. He went to pull at the elastic of his pants next, but Harry stopped him with a firm hand.

"Dad?"

"Let me, son." Harry mouthed a trail down James's chest, marvelling at the sensations his kisses elicited in his son. Jamie was so sensitive to every flutter of Harry's lips and tongue, and he shuddered and shivered as Harry reached the cotton pants he wore.

James's cock tented the cotton, a tiny damp spot forming at the top. Harry kissed his son's erection through the fabric, then peeled it back and kissed the cock itself. James jumped and moaned Dad as Harry worked his pants down his legs.

Harry prodded at the joints of James's knees until he drew up one, then the other and spread himself, displaying everything to his father—his teenage erection with the dark curls Jamie was so proud of, his still-growing testicles, his puckered pink arsehole with the barest dusting of hair.

"You have no shame, Jamie," Harry said, smiling, and he licked the crease where James's thigh met his groin. "Are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes," Jamie replied, the word clipped and breathless. He spread his legs wider, and Harry trailed a finger down to his son's arsehole, following it with his tongue. He licked a wide swipe across the pucker, and Jamie tensed and shouted wordlessly.

Harry smiled and kissed James's thigh. "Do you like that, son?"

"Dad. Oh—oh, my god. Do it again. Please?" James's thighs spread in an even wider vee, and Harry ducked his head between them, spreading James's cheeks with his fingers and attacking his son's hole with his tongue, licking round and around that tight ring of muscle until James began to relax. Harry pressed a tender kiss to the loosened pink pucker, then began to work his tongue inside.

James chanted a litany of Dad, Dad, Dad as Harry's tongue penetrated him, and he threw his legs over Harry's shoulders, digging his heels into Harry's back.

Harry withdrew his tongue from James's arse long enough to encourage his son to touch himself, then delved back in, inhaling the sweet and musky smell of James's young body, licking around the pink pucker and dipping his tongue just inside, pressing the heel of his hand to his own insistent erection to force himself to concentrate on his son.

"Dad. Got to—want to—gonna—!"

Harry nodded, his head brushing James's thigh, and he lapped at James's arsehole as James twitched and shuddered his way through his orgasm, his body arching upwards, his thighs clenching around Harry's head.

When James finally relaxed, Harry pressed a gentle kiss to each of the boy's thighs and crawled upwards, his glasses smudged and smeared, to see James, a sleepy smile on his face, his belly spattered with his own come, his own glasses askew, one wrist held tightly to the ground by a shoot of the Tenacious Tendrilvine.

"Can't get up," James murmured, "Too tired. Dad. God. Thank you."

Harry smiled, squeezing his unrelenting erection, and eased the vine from around James's wrist, then tugged James into a sitting position, hugging him from behind.

"Too tired to take care of your old man, Jamie?" Harry murmured in James's ear, licking lightly along its edge.

James shuddered and curled into Harry's embrace.

"Never too tired for that, Dad."

Harry smiled and sat back, spreading his legs, his cock straining at his pants. James turned and rubbed along its length, smiling up at Harry.

"Love you son," Harry said as James tugged at the elastic of his pants.

"Love you, Dad," said Jamie, just before he devoured Harry's cock.