An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Roxy wakes in the night to lips on her shoulder, soft little kisses scattered haphazardly across her skin and between the loose strands of her hair. Harry's arm is heavy across her waist and she can feel the solid heat of him curled behind her, the slow rise and fall of his chest touching her back. He's still asleep, or close enough that it barely makes any difference.
"Harry," she says softly. There's a queasy sort of nervousness in her stomach at the thought of mortifying him if she wakes him up, so she tries a slow, wriggling escape towards the edge of the bed. It's no good; his sleepy hand brushes the back of its fingers against her stomach, rasping imperceptibly across the cotton vest she's wearing to sleep in, and the unconscious gentleness of it holds her as still as any deliberate grip.
He settles down after a moment, fading back to stillness with a garbled murmur against the nape of her neck. Roxy lets her trembling breath out slowly and swears, sharp and quiet, when she feels the hard line of his cock against her backside.
"Harry," she says again, louder.
"Mmmhm," he replies, sleepy and wordless. He rocks closer, nudging his cock against the gap where her legs meet. An electric shiver shocks through her, the touch and the lightning bolt realisation combined: I don't want him to stop.
This time he wakes, she can tell by the pace of his breathing. "What's," he starts, then he sucks in his breath and mutters, "Shit, fuck," when he realises just how close they are, where his arm is, how his cock tip is lodged between the very top of her thighs.
"Good dream?" she says blandly, because turning it into a joke is the only thing she can think to do to ease his embarrassment. Harry laughs, more desperately self-conscious than she's ever heard him before, and delicately edges himself backwards until he's no longer touching her at all, though she can still feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck.
"I suppose so. I'm awfully sorry about that. One expects to grow out of this nonsense but somehow it never seems to happen."
She doesn't mean to turn over and kiss him, but she's tired as well, and something about this soft, sleepy shame in his voice makes her want to reassure him in a way she's got no words for. He's surprised by it, she can tell by the way he goes completely still, but almost immediately he melts into her, opening his mouth to hers and letting her touch his tongue while his fingers plunge into her hair to hold her close. It's nothing like before, stage-kisses intended to look perfunctory and passionless; there's something simmering now, and it's starting to boil over.
My Secret Santa for the spectacular @futuredescending from her g l o r i o u s prompt âThe first major interaction Roxy ever has with Harry is when they're assigned on a long-term undercover mission together, posing as a romantic couple. This is fine.â Undercover as a couple! Sharing a bed!!! This was fun <3
