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Harry found that the best way to overcome his writer’s block was to be fucked and to be fucked hard. He currently had an awful case of writer’s block so he quickly found a bar that looked like its usual clientele might be his kind of men.
Harry sauntered in, he was wearing his tightest jeans but a normal t-shirt and a leather jacket. He looked pretty damn edible in his own opinion, he just hoped that he would find someone that thought the same. The bar wasn’t overly crowded but it was warm and smoky. This place clearly didn’t conform to the no smoking in doors policy.
“Got any Rye whiskey?” He asked the barman as he took a seat at the bar. To his left was a very nice looking silver fox. A quick glance showed that he wasn’t wearing a ring, hopefully the man would be interested in men or at least willing to experiment.
“Yeah.” The barman grunted.
“I’ll have two fingers, neat.” He ordered holding up two fingers to make sure that he was understood. Rye whiskey was the closest tasting whiskey he had found to fire whiskey on the muggle side of things in the States.
“Interesting choice.” A gruff voice came from the silver fox.
“I like the smoky, spicy taste.” Harry looked at him and let a smile play around his lips. “What’s your poison of choice?”
“Bourbon,” His thin lips twitched into a smirk. “Neat.”
“Ah, a man with a sweet tooth.” Harry turned so he was facing the man. “I’m Harry.”
“Jethro.”
“Your drink.” The bar slid the tumbler of Rye whiskey across to Harry. “That’ll be-”
“Put it on my tab.” Jethro interrupted the barman with a tap on the bar top.
“Oh my, buying me a drink already.” Harry teased. He picked up his glass and sniffed it, discreetly casting a detection charm. It came back clear so he took a sip. He relished in the burn of the liquor and smiled at his new friend.
“Well I’ve gotta reward a man with discerning taste.” Was it just hopeful thinking or did Jethro’s eyes just dart down to his lips before going back to his eyes?
“Here’s to good taste.” Harry raised his glass.
“To good taste.” Jethro tapped his glass against his.
Jethro was nipping at Harry’s bottom lip the moment they were through the man’s house door. They had both downed their drinks and had barely left the bar before they were joined at the lips.
“Upstairs.” Jethro grunted as Harry ground himself against him.
“Too far.” Harry sucked a hickey onto the Silver Fox’s and tried to sneak his hands under the man’s shirt.
“I’m too old to do it on the floor.” Jethro grabbed a fistful of Harry’s hair and pulled his face away from his neck. Harry stared up into stern but aroused eyes. “Upstairs.” He ordered.
“Yessir.” Harry practically melted. Merlin, that look was smouldering. Harry’s knees almost buckled from the look alone but Jethro’s tone of voice when he ordered him? Well, Harry just discovered a new kink.
They eventually made it up to bed and proceeded to test the strength of Jethro’s bed frame.
Harry fell asleep after the second round. For an older man Jethro sure had a lot of stamina and Harry had certainly achieved what he had set out to. He had been fucked thoroughly and enthusiastically.
He woke briefly when his bed partner climbed out of bed.
“Hmm?” Harry squinted at the man, twisting to face him. His body felt blissfully sore from the vigorous activity.
“Shh, go back to sleep.” Jethro leant down and kissed him gently. “I’m going to work on my boat in the basement. You can leave whenever you want.”
“M’kay.” Harry sleepily kissed him back. “’ave fun.” He yawned and snuggled in the warm covers. He was vaguely aware of a kiss being pressed to his forehead but he was already drifting back off to sleep.
Harry’s fingers sped across his keyboard as he typed. Jethro had cured his writer’s block. He made a mental note to send him a thank you card and a bottle of bourbon before he was drawn back into his story.
He hadn’t expected to see Jethro again but there he was in the coffee shop, the same one that Harry was planning to meet Hermione at for brunch.
“Small world.” Harry smiled at the older man as he stood behind him in the queue.
“Harry.” Jethro’s tone was warm.
“Let me pay for your coffee.” Harry stepped closer. “You helped get rid of my writers block, it's the least I can do.”
“I didn’t realise you were that kind of writer.”
Harry flushed. “I-I’m not!” He stuttered, making the older man chuckle. “You’re just teasing.” He realised a moment too late.
“I am.”
“Well, for that I am paying for your coffee and buying you a danish.”
“The horror.” He deadpanned.
“Next!” The barista called and Harry stepped forward with Jethro.
“A black coffee, a latte and…” He looked to Jethro for order.
“Make that two black coffees.” Jethro told him before going to find a table.
“Okay, so that’s two black coffees and one latte, is that everything?” The barista summarised.
“And three of your cherry danishes please.”
“And the name for the order?”
“Harry.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a shout when your order is ready.”
“Thank you.” Harry smiled at the barista before following Jethro over to his table.
“Am I interrupting a date?” Jethro asked as soon as Harry sat down.
“Only with my sister.” Hermione was his sister in everything but blood.
“Ah.”
“So you know I’m a writer, what do you do?” Harry played with a packet of sugar that was on the table. Jethro had picked up a handful of them on his way to the table.
“You didn’t say what you wrote.”
“Urban fantasy.”
“What the hell is that?” He looked both confused and outraged at the same time, it was kind of cute.
“Basically, magic in the current world.” Harry explained. He was playing it a little close to the statue of secrecy but he hadn’t gotten into trouble yet. “I’m writing a series about a grown man that finds out he has magic and is part of a prophecy.” It was based very loosely on Harry’s own life, he just aged everyone up, changed names and tweaked things enough that it read like Terry Prachet rather than a History of Magic textbook.
“Huh.” He nodded slowly. “I’m NCIS.”
“That sounds like law enforcement.”
“You’re right it does.” He pulled out a leather wallet and flicked it open. It was his credentials. “We deal with navy crimes.”
“Neat.” Harry looked at the badge. Huh, his full name was Leroy Jethro Gibbs, good to know. “You might want to put it away for now though.” He pushed it back towards Jethro. “I’m sister is a little leery about law enforcement at the moment. Her ex-turned stalker was an police officer. He abused his department’s resources to follow her.”
“What a bastard.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Harry nodded grimly. “Its why we moved out here. Thankfully his reach doesn’t seem to breach the UK borders so far.”
“What’s his name? I’ll see if I can get him black listed.” Jethro said seriously.
“You can do that?” Harry blinked stunned. He would do that for him?
“Well...I know someone who can.” He smirked mischievously.
Harry wanted to jump his bones again but first he had to focus. He made a quick look around to make sure that Hermione wasn’t here yet.
“Harry?” The barista called for him.
“Damn, wait here.” Harry ordered as he got up. “Don’t move.”
“Yessir.” He smiled with boyish charm. Merlin Harry wanted another rumble in that man’s bed.
He quickly returned with the coffees and danishes. “Here.” He pushed over one of the coffees and one of the danishes.
“Thank you.”
“Give me your number.”
“Oh?” Jethro raised his eyebrow at the demand.
“My sister will be here any moment now and I don’t want her to hear the bastard's name.”
“And here I thought that you might have wanted it because you wanted to see me again.” He sighed and pulled out his phone. It was an ancient looking flip phone. “Put your number in and text yourself.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a date.” Harry commented as he accepted the phone. He easily typed in his number in and sent himself a message with just Jethro’s name in it. “Done.” He passed the phone back and picked up his own as it vibrated from the message.
“I’ll call you later.” Jethro promised as he put his phone away. He ripped open three packets of sugar and poured them into his coffee. He stirred them and grabbed the bag with his danish. “I got to head to work, enjoy your brunch with your sister.” He stood and then seemed to hesitate.
“Have a good day at work.” Harry offered him, wondering if he was waiting for Harry to reply before leaving. So he was pleasantly surprised when the older man stooped down and kissed him chastely.
“I’ll definitely call you.” He promised before straightening up and left.
Harry smiled and touched his lips before shaking his head. Focus, he told himself sternly and pulled out his phone again.
The bastard’s name is Ron Weasley. His hair is carrot orange and is more freckles than person .
He pressed send and pulled his coffee cup closer to sip while he waited for Hermione.
Later that evening he received a text from Jethro:
Bastard has been blacklisted.
Harry called him back and invited him over so he could personally thank him.
Jethro was barely through the door before Harry was on him.
“Eager.” He chuckled into the kiss.
“Either do me against the wall or we can go to my room and I can ride you until you see stars.” Harry nibbled on his ear.
“Well, sweetheart, why are we still standing here?” Jethro gently pushed him away. “Lead on.”
A shrill ringtone woke Harry from his exhausted slumber.
“Turns it off.” He slurred, his voice thick with sleep. He thumped the body in the bed next to him.
The body groaned and nuzzled their nose against Harry’s hair before sighing as the phone continued to ring. He reached over to the bedside table and came up empty.
“Didja see where I left my phone?” Jethro mumbled as he continued to search the table.
“If it was in your trousers then the living room.”
“In my what?”
“Trousers.” Harry repeated feeling grumpy now that his nice sleepy haze was retreating. “You Americans call them pants.”
“Ah.” He huffed falling back against the pillows. The phone stopped ringing. “Never mind.” He draped himself over Harry.
The phone started to ring again.
“Answer the bloody thing.” Harry pushed him away.
“Noo,” He clung to Harry tighter. “’m comfy.”
The phone stopped ringing again and they both held their breath while waited to see if it rang again. It did.
“Fine.” Jethro grumbled under his breath but did get up taking the blankets with him. The bastard.
“Hey!”
“If I have to be awake then so do you.” He called back.
“Bastard!” Harry followed him out of the bedroom as naked as he had gone to bed.
"That is what the second B stands for." He laughed before answering the phone. "Gibbs?" All humour drained from his face. "I'll be there." He hung up and sighed.
"Work?" Harry guessed approaching him slowly and in view so he wouldn't startle the man. When he reached him he wrapped his arms around his very naked waist.
"Yeah."
"Go get them, tiger." Harry kissed his shoulder and then up his neck until he reached his mouth and placed a sweet kiss there.
"I'll call you, sweetheart." He promised.
"You better." Harry grinned before stepping back. "I'll put the coffee on while you get ready."
Jethro pulled him back for one more kiss before letting him go and went to get ready.
Harry passed him a travel mug filled with hot coffee and got a kiss in exchange. The man grinned and took a sip of the scalding drink. "One more thing before I leave."
"What is it?"
"The next time you invite a no-maj over, make sure you've frozen all of your moving photos."
Harry felt his blood freeze.
"Its a good thing I had already worked out you were a wizard," Jethro continued as if he hadn't given Harry a heart attack. "Thankfully I've already been read in due to a case a few years ago." He bent down and pressed a kiss against Harry's frozen lips. "I'll call you later, sweetheart." He winked, saluted him with his coffee and left.
Harry stared after his lover, shocked.
Well at least that solved the issue of keeping magic a secret from him if they got more serious and Harry wanted this relationship to get serious.
You owe me a proper date . Harry sent off the text and bit his lip while he waited for a reply.
This friday, 1900. my place for cowboy steaks . Jethro answered quickly.
Sounds perfect . Harry grinned down at his phone. He couldn't wait.
I knew you had good taste.
Harry threw his head back and laughed at the reply.