earned it [h.s.]

one shot: harry & genevieve. (*)

Disclaimer: this happens before the epilogue!! sorry for any confusion in the timeline, but harry & genevieve are not engaged or anything in this one. 

Word count: 13,703

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"Happy birthday." Genevieve panted, stroking her fingers through Harry's hair as he collapsed on top of her. His breathing was harsh, his one hand gripping the pillow as the fingers of his other hand dented the skin of her thigh he was holding close around his hips.

Harry lazily smirked, eyes closed as he puckered his lips into her neck, "Thank you, sunny. Holy shit."

"Holy shit indeed." She giggled back, sighing out sleepily, "that's a lot of activity for an early morning."

He hummed, "You woke me up with your lips around my cock, you're to blame."

Genevieve giggled again, "I know. Wanted to do something special for today."

"I can't believe I have to go to work." Harry groaned and Genevieve bit her lip as he rolled off and slipped out of her. His warmth left her body and she turned to face him, watching as he yawned and ran a hand over the length of his face, "Wish I could stay here."

"Why don't you call in sick?" She suggested and Harry sighed, "I'm working with Jeff today, he'll know I just took the day off because it's my birthday. Besides, if you can't get the day off and I'm here by myself, I don't want to."

She smiled while rolling on her side, "Well is there anything you want to do tonight?"

"We still have so much shit to unpack, Gen." He yawned again, blinking his eyes open to stare around their bedroom. There was furniture that still had to be assembled and so many boxes yet to be unpacked. Most of them were Genevieve's since Harry didn't own that much stuff, but they bought all their new furniture together for their brand new home.

Even if they had been living here for almost a month, so much still had to be done. They each took a few days off at first but ever since it's been working non-stop for the both of them and they just started slacking.

Genevieve frowned, "You're not going to spend your night unpacking boxes, are you? Harry, come on! You're thirty-two. Tell me what you want to do."

"Nothing special." He murmured, shrugging, "It's a Thursday. We're already going out tomorrow with everyone so tonight... I don't know, just an easy dinner and a movie with you? I'd like to stay here."

Genevieve pouted softly, "Are you sure? We can go out."

"Nah, I'm good." He shrugged, "I like our home. It's so cosy."

"It is." She smiled in agreement, nibbling her lip afterwards, "Anything else? For... dessert?"

Harry rolled on his side too and smirked, "Just pumped you full and you're already thinking about more?" He teased in a low voice. Genevieve blushed a little, "It's for you. Just... whatever you want. I'll do it."

He stared at her for a moment, and Genevieve could see the wheels in his head spinning. She scooted slightly closer, ignoring the discomfort when she felt his release leaking out of her. Her knee bumping into him, she gently brought her hand up to his bicep to squeeze softly, "You can tell me, Harry."

She had urged him over and over again whenever she saw this look of hesitance or shyness in his face. He had it often, when he felt embarrassed about a fantasy or a kink he had. Not once had Genevieve looked at him weirdly or made fun of the things he liked or wanted to try out. Some were hits, some were misses, but that was alright. She wanted him to trust her completely, knowing he could ask her anything and she was willing to explore it all.