Harry/Ron - Give A Little Whistle by reni_days

Title: Give A Little Whistle
Gaining Access: (unlocked)
Author: reni_days
Length/Word Count: one shot ~7000
Alternate Links to Fic/Art: N/A
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Author's Website: reni_days
Why everyone should read this: I'm a huge fan of Reni's Harry/Ron's and her delectable sense of humor. The premise is akin to Pinocchio's nose growing when he told a lie, but instead it's Ron's penis that grows when he thinks of sex, and poor Ron can't take care of his problem himself. Young men think about sex A LOT. Young men harboring feelings for their best friend and roommate who volunteer to help them out with their cursed dick, think about sex even more. Lots of UST, laughs, hot smex, and love in this fic. Go Read.


Excerpt:

They couldn't go on like this.

They had both found the spell almost funny, at first. It seemed like something the twins would have come up with—a bizarre twist on the Pinocchio theme, certainly embarrassing, but amusing nonetheless. Instead of a nose that grew with every lie, the curse caused the victim's cock to grow with every sexual thought.

Literally grow. Ron's cock had been nearly as long as his forearm, that first day, before they had figured out what they thought was the solution.

The only information the department had on file about the artifact was that an orgasm was the only known counter to the spell. That certainly hadn't seemed like a problem at the time, until Ron had discovered that he was physically incapable of providing himself with one. It wasn't that he couldn't wank—it was just that he couldn't feel himself wank. His own touch on his cock provided absolutely no sensation or stimulation whatsoever. It was as if it wasn't even happening.

Harry had suggested asking Hermione to help them find an answer...after, of course, he had managed to stop laughing. But Ron was in physical pain by then—he had never realized how much he actually thought about sex over the course of a day, and his repeated failures to wank had not helped that situation in the slightest—and his frustration and mortification had been so great that he had desperately appealed to Harry himself for help.

And Harry, being the selfless, amazing friend that he was, had actually agreed, despite the fact that it was painfully obvious he would have found it easier to be asked to face Voldemort again.

They had vowed never to speak of it on pain of death, thrown an Imperturbable Charm at the door of the department, and Harry had quickly and clinically tossed him off right there at work in the middle of the day. (It had taken two hands, and he'd been obliged to put his back into it, so to speak, but the job had gotten done.) Since the two of them together comprised the entire Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, there was no reason anyone else would ever have to know.

And it had worked. Or so they thought.