Harry James potter smuts

Cold kisses

"Y/N?" Harry's voice pulls you from your book as he walks into the common room after his quidditch practice.
"Harry, hi," you greet him. He walks over and plops himself onto the sofa next to you. Harry's still in his quidditch sweater, which is a bit too big for him. He pulls the sleeves over his hands to make paws.
"You okay? How was practice?" you ask him, putting your book down and patting your lap, inviting him to lie down. He sometimes reminded you of a puppy.
"Fine, and good," he says softly. He leans down and stretches across your lap, groaning as he does. The wind messed up his hair, sticking everywhere, but not much more than usual. You stroke his hair as he leans into you more, undoing any small knots the wind had created.
His cheeks grow warm from the fireplace that is always lit. He sighs in contentment as the warmth spreads through his body.
"Need a shower?" you ask. He doesn't reply for a moment, then nods his head. "Yeah,"
"Okay, well, go," you nudge his head lightly.
"I don't want to," he says. "You're comfortable."
"My lap will still be here after your shower, Harry," you say, smiling. "Now go, love. Take a nice, relaxing shower,"
He tilts his head to look at you. "Okay," he proceeds to roll off of the sofa, hurting his behind in the process.
"Owww," he groans tiredly. "That hurt,"
"No shit, Harry," you sigh. "Now shoo, before I drag your arse up to your dorm,"
He lets a small smile slip onto his face before getting up and going to shower, but not before kissing you on the cheek.
You pick your book up and continue reading as he showers. After a while, you check the clock and see it's been thirty minutes and you start to wonder if he fell asleep in the shower.
You put your book down and walk up to his dorm. You knock and wait for a sign of protest but hear nothing, so you open the door.
Walking in, you look over to see Harry lying in his bed with damp hair and no shirt on. He looks asleep, but you confirm he isn't when you hear a muffled hi coming from his direction.
You look around to make sure the other beds are empty (they were), then walk over to him and sit beside him.
"How was your shower?" you ask him, reaching over and rubbing his bare shoulder. He flinches slightly at your cold touch.
"Good," he seems to be talking to his pillow.
A sudden idea pops into your head. "Hey, sit up,"
He lifts his head to give you a questioning look.
"Love, sit up," you repeat.
He stretches before obliging. He now sits next to you on the bed, his eyelids drooping slightly.
"Good," you say quietly before crawling behind him on the bed and sitting down again. You raise your hands and begin massaging his shoulders so he can relax.
He tensed up for a second. You questioned why in your head for a moment before realizing why he felt so warm; your hands had been cold before.
"Sorry," you say. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, it's okay, they'll get warmer as you go on," he says. "But that sure woke me up."
A small laugh escaped your lips as you continued with your massage.
"How did everyone do during practice?" you ask him. Your hands are getting warmer now.
"Everyone did fine," he says. "Ron missed a few, and Katie got lightheaded after an hour, but other than that, it was good."
"That's good," you agree. "D'you think I'd make a good player?"
"With your aim? No way," he jokes. "But maybe a beater. Do you like hitting things?"
"Sometimes," you say. "One time I actually hit my sibling with a pillow and knocked them off our loft bed," you cringe and half smile at the memory.
"Ouch," he says.
"Yeah," you say. "Maybe next year I'll try for beater, who knows?"
"That'd be cool," Harry says. "I'd get to boss you around, ha!"
"You already can, Harry," you say without thinking. Your face turns red in realization but thankfully Harry can't see.
"I– what?" he turns around with a slight smirk as he notices your shocked state.
You quickly compose yourself and say with as much confidence as you can muster, "You heard me. You already can."
He narrows his eyes for a moment. "Okay, then. Get off the bed."
You didn't think he'd actually start to boss you around, but you oblige anyway. You crawl around him and off the bed, now standing in front of him. "Is that it?" you ask.
"Now, kiss me."
You look at him. "Is that it?"
"Maybe," he says. "Now do as I say. Please?"
"Fine," you roll your eyes playfully before leaning forward and giving him a swift peck on the lips.
"Hey! That wasn't a kiss!" he whines as you back away.
"It was!" you say.
"Barely," he retorts. 
"Fine," you say as you walk up to him. Harry scoots back on the bed to make room for you to sit. You sit down and look from his eyes to his lips.
His hand cups your jaw as you both lean in for a kiss. Your hands go to his warm shoulders as your lips meet and suddenly your whole body is warmer than just a few seconds ago.
You lean into him to somehow feel him more, which makes the kiss more intense. One of his hands goes to rest on your hip and all of a sudden you're sitting on his lap.
You pull away for air after a moment. "Good enough kiss?" you ask him.
"Almost," he says. He leans forward once again and pecks your lips once, twice, then a third time before he says, "Okay, good."
You smile and kiss him on the nose.
Harry pulls you with him as he lies down on his back, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around you protectively.
"I'm warm now," you say. "Thank you for sharing your body heat."
"No problem, love," he says through a yawn. "Can we sleep now?"
"Of course," you say. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Night, Honey," he whispers.