The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful

Chapter Two: The Handiest Frenchmen In The Caribbean

Harry stood, almost ankle deep in the shining, wet sand. He watched as the waves crashed against the shore, showering him with a salty spray. He took a sip from his beer bottle, letting the music from the pub wash over him as the water did.

An arm slipped around his waist and he froze, mid-swallow, the moonlight reflected off a band of sea shells wrapped around the wrist around his waist. He could feel a warm, hard body pressing against his back, every inch of them touching, sending delightful shivers coursing through Harry's body, sending his blood racing.

"You really should loosen up," a voice whispered in his ear, forcing Harry to swallow hard.

The arm slipped lower, wrapping itself around Harry's hips, slowly moving them, guiding Harry into a slow, erotic dance. Harry moaned softly as the body behind him pressed in more, and his free hand slid up, wrapping around the other man's neck.

Soft lips touched his own neck, sending more shivers coursing through him and his eyes fell shut. Lips, teeth and tongue worked together to drive Harry insane, while the movement of their hips inflamed him. Soft groans and whimpers spilled from Harry's lips and the hand that was resting on his hip slid even further down to his thigh.

Harry pressed back against the body behind him, moaning as he felt the other's arousal pressing against him. "Want you..." Harry whispered.

The hand slid slightly to the right, cupping him, massaging slowly. "Then have me," the voice whispered again, nipping at Harry's earlobe.

"Where?" Harry asked, REALLY hoping that the voice didn't want to do it here on the sand. He didn't need to be washing sand out of odd places for the next week.

His thoughts were cut off though, as warm lips descended on his own and he whimpered again, eagerly responding to the kiss. He stumbled as his new...lover pulled him out of the sand and towards the darkening ships and glittering pubs. The kiss deepened as the mystery man pulled him into a dark alley, pressing him against the hard, brick wall.

Hands worked on the front of Harry's beach shorts, tugging at the drawstring, pulling it free as a tongue slid into Harry's mouth.

Harry moaned, sucking on the tongue, whimpering as it slid away from him a moment later. The whimpers soon turned into moans as the tongue found it's way to his left nipple, circling it slowly, a brush of lips and teeth soon following.

Harry's head fell back against the wall as the mouth closed over the second nipple, his breath hissing out of him. The mouth created a path down his chest, tongue creating a hot, wet trail that caused Harry's breathing to stop for a brief moment.

His shorts were pushed down and that heat surrounded him. Harry's nails dug into the bricks behind him. "More," Harry whispered, wincing at how needy his voice sounded. It had been a while.

There was a chuckle around him and Harry gasped, his hand threading through silken locks. The pace was hard, fast, and demanding. This wasn't the gentle touches and soft caresses Harry was used to. It was sex, in dark, dirty alley between two pubs. It was need and passion. It was the intoxicating scent of roses, drugging Harry as he gasped, struggling to bring in the oxygen he needed, fighting the urge to just collapse as sensations overwhelmed him.

"I can't...stop..." Harry whispered, his hand buried deeper into the hair beneath his hand. "Please...don't...fuck...don't stop."

The man below him ignored everything he said and continued on, intent on watching Harry scream. Glittering eyes rolled up slightly to look up Harry's body, watching as he lost control completely.

*

Draco blinked as he stumbled into the back rooms of the pub and stepped over bodies, nudging a few just to make sure they were still breathing. He yawned, a hand covering his mouth as he leaned against the door, taking in the main room, quickly counting customers before shrugging and heading back behind the bar to relieve Rajani.

The brunette was leaning on the counter, flirting with a muscled young stud who was far too drunk to be able to sit upright. Draco had a sneaky suspicion that there was a bit of magic helping him stay sitting. "You flagged him, didn't you?" he asked out of the side of his mouth.

"Obviously," Raj said, rolling her eyes. She straightened up and raised an eyebrow at him, running her fingers through his hair. "Fun break?"

"Always," he said with a touch of a smirk.

She smiled and brushed her thumb over his lip. "You forgot to wipe your mouth," she said, sucking her thumb clean, raising an eyebrow before leaning in and kissing him deeply, stealing a taste of his...break for herself.

Draco pulled away and looked at the list of current orders, starting in on the drinks. "You know, you could get one of your own."

"Yes but it's more fun to share yours," she said, starting on another. "Besides, you know the rule, look but no touch for this girl."

"You made that rule."

"And it's served me well," Raj said, smiling softly. "No stress."

"Only for you would being celibate equal no stress."

Raj's hands paused over her work, a shadow over the past flickering through her eyes. "It's better this way, Dray." she said softly.

Draco stopped in his cutting and pulled Raj close, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Raj. You know me, my mouth works faster them my brain."

She smiled and nudged him. "I'm used to it by now, we've been together ten years."

He kissed the top of her head again before tugging gently on her ponytail, going back to his work.

*

Ginny looked up as the hotel room door opened. She stood and pointed her wand at the door, only lowering it when the wards broke to allow Harry in. She watched him for a long moment before giving a yell and jumping on him. "You got laid!"

Harry laughed and wrapped her legs more around his waist, making sure he didn't drop her as he moved over to the beds. "In a way...kinda."

"How do you kinda get laid...oh!"

Harry laughed and dumped her backwards on a bed. "Trust me, it was not what I had planned...but it wasn't bad."

"Who was it? Are you going to see him again? Was he hot? Spill!"

Harry fell back on the bed, sighing contently. "I could possibly see him again...hell I could possibly walk right past him without even realizing it."

Ginny looked at him, confused. "Harry...how much did you have to drink?"

Harry raised a hand and attempted to count before shrugging. "It was dark, Gin. I don't know what he looks like. Or his name. Just...roses."

"Roses."

Harry nodded. "He smells like roses...and rum."

"Well that's easy, we can just go all over the island sniffing everyone."

Harry snorted at the mental image that gave him. "I'm not going around Jamaica, sniffing people. It was a one time thing. No apologies and no regrets remember. Our whole motto for this trip?"

Ginny sighed, falling back on the bed. "Fine, but don't blame me if I get a bit starry eyed. You haven't dated since Justin, I get worried."

"Well don't, I can handle being alone," He kissed her nose and stripped off his shirt. "Now I'm going to take a shower and pass out before you force me to go do something fun tomorrow...like shopping."

Ginny wiggled her fingers at him, picking up his shirt. She frowned and raised it to her nose, inhaling deeply. Roses. Harry smelled of fresh cut roses, the thick, sickly sweet scent you found in a garden of them. And just underneath, the scent of rum, coconuts and tequila.

She stood and went to throw the shirt in a hamper. A metallic flash caught her eye and she lifted the shirt again, pulling a strand of hair from it. Silver. The sort of colour one would get if one took a bar of the precious metal and spun it out into hair. A colour that flashed through memory, remaining there. She had seen flashes of this colour before, sunlight glinting off of it, blending in with emerald green cloaks and hiding blue-grey eyes.

Only three people in the world had hair this colour...well, three people she knew of. One, she had seen just before she left when she went to design robes for the woman. One, was in Azkaban. And one was forever lost, death taking the owner one dark and painful night. She had watched the casket slowly lowered into the earth, the thorns of a rose cutting into her fingers as he struggled to figure out how a father could murder his own son.

"Harry...either you've screwed a Veela...or..." She shook her head.
"No more rum punch for me," she said, tossing the shirt in the hamper.