cephalopinguin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cephalopinguin) wrote2009-03-06 06:42 pm
cephalopinguin) wrote2009-03-06 06:42 pm
Entry tags:
Taken Out of the Running
Title: Taken Out of the Running
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry does his best mate duties to try and get Ron out of his break-up funk.
Word Count: 3,237
Warnings: implied Ron/Hermione, implied Harry/OMCs, rimming (though I believe that should be more of an incentive rather than a warning…)
Disclaimer: I don’t own. Property of J.K Rowling. For entertainment purposes only. Even if it only entertains myself.
Notes: Written for the 2009![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hprwfqf , admittedly a little late. Betaed by the fabulous ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
asnowyowl . Thanks so much; you’re the best!
Taken Out of the Running
Harry flooed home to find Ron on the couch again; Firewhiskey bottle in hand and empty pizza box at his feet. He was in his pyjamas, and his hair was obviously unwashed for yet another day. Harry was afraid to get too close for fear that the weeks of grunge and filth would rub off on him. Scrubbing his hand across his face in irritation, Harry walked into the hallway and entered the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he adjusted it to the correct temperature, then marched back into the living room.
“Okay, that’s enough, Ron. Get up now,” Harry said, grabbing Ron’s hand and pulling him up off of the couch. Yanking him down the hallway, with Ron obediently but lethargically following, Harry continued, “Get in the shower. I’m taking you out. You’ve had more than enough time to mourn.” When they got to the bathroom, Harry spun Ron around and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Ron raised his arms up obligingly.
“You’re always trying to get me naked.” Ron laughed, which had been an unusual sound to Harry’s ears for the last month. “Is this where the term ‘shirtlifter’ came from?”
“Oh, very clever.” Harry smirked, happy to see Ron’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Now, do I need to take your bottoms off, or can you handle it?”
“Yeah, I think I’m good, mate, but thanks.”
Harry turned to the sink to search out his toothbrush as Ron stripped off and got in the shower.
“Where are we going?” Ron asked a couple minutes later from behind the curtain.
Harry spat toothpaste into the sink so that he could answer. “Well, it seems to me that you’re not progressing through the stages of grieving properly.”
“What, you mean, like, denial, anger, bargaining; all that rubbish?” Ron said, poking his head out from behind the curtain, a scowl on his face.
“Well, something like that. I just mean, your arse has been glued to the sofa for a month now, and I’m surprised you haven’t started growing into it. You haven’t been going to work, you have pizzas delivered straight to the couch, and you’re normally three sheets to the wind by the time I get home. It’s time for you to progress to the next stage.”
“Yeah? Which is?”
Harry rinsed his mouth as Ron stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. “The next stage in grieving, as I understand it, is strip clubs.”
Ron laughed, a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re going to take me to a strip club?”
“Yes.”
“A strip club where women strip?”
“Yes!” Shaking his head, Harry wandered out of the bathroom and into Ron’s room in search of clean clothes. Finding a clean-looking pair of trousers, pants, and a wrinkled shirt in a pile in the corner, Harry snatched them up and sniffed them. They smelled fine, so he cast a de-wrinkle charm on the shirt and brought them back to Ron.
“Thanks, mate,” Ron said, pulling the pants on and scrubbing his wet hair with the towel. A few minutes later, Ron was ready to go.
“So, where is this place?”
“I pass by it when I go to the market. It’s Muggle. We’ll go there. Seamus and Neville are meeting us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s brilliant! I haven’t seen those blokes in months. I still can’t believe you’re going. You’re a really good mate, Harry.” Ron chuckled as they walked out the front door and started down the street.
Harry looked up at Ron. “Listen, I can’t avoid my best-mate duty just because I don’t particularly enjoy girly bits bouncing in my face. Besides, I can enjoy the female form from a purely artistic standpoint.” Harry pointed Ron to the left side of the street where the club stood.
Walking into the club, Ron looked around. “Yeah, I don’t think these are the type of girls that you can possibly look at artistically!”
Harry quickly found Seamus and Neville. Seamus seemed to already be making quite a spectacle of himself. Harry signaled the bartender for two beers and pointed over to the table they were about to take. This night would call for a lot of alcohol on Harry’s end.
“Mates! Good to see ya!” Seamus slurred, drunkenly hugging both Ron and Harry simultaneously.
“Hey Seamus! Nev!” Ron clasped Neville on the back. Neville seemed to be much more sober. He also couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from the stage to greet the new arrivals.
“Hey, guys,” he said, only looking at Harry and Ron briefly. “Good to see you among the living, Ron,” he added, tossing back a shot.
“Ah, leave the boy alone! Breakups are hard.”
“Yes, that’s very insightful. Thank you, Seamus,” Neville snorted.
Both Harry and Ron then proceeded to get exorbitantly drunk. Ron seemed to be enjoying himself, and whooped with all the other male patrons when the girls would do something outrageous. All of the dancers tended to stay close to Ron, as he kept sticking very large bills in their underwear. Harry assumed this was due more to the fact that he had yet to figure out Muggle money rather than he was just a good tipper. Harry was just happy to see Ron laughing and generally having a good time. And it definitely made Seamus and Neville happy to have the girls so close.
Seamus looked over to Harry. “So, Harry, what about this,” he made a broad sweep of his hand to indicate all the naked girls, “doesn’t appeal to ya?”
Harry just rolled his eyes, while Ron shouted over the music, “Leave him alone, Shay. Harry is the best mate in the world, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him! I love that guy!”
Harry’s lips curved up into a small smile against his will and he was sure he blushed.
“No, it’s fine, mate. More for me! It’s easier to get girls when you don’t have to compete with ‘The Chosen One’ for them!” Seamus shouted.
“Don’t call me that!”
Ron turned to Harry and exclaimed, “Hermione’s breasts are so much nicer looking than these.”
“Well, of course they are. Hers are natural, while these…” Harry flicked his eyes up at the breasts bouncing in front of him for a moment, “definitely aren’t.” A dancer had made her way very close to Harry, and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “No, thank you, miss. Not interested,” Harry said, waving her over to Seamus, who happily took her, with a lecherous look on his face.
“See!” he said. “So much easier.” Harry started laughing, which then started the whole table laughing. More beers were ordered, and the last of Ron’s money was dispensed. The night was quite entertaining, despite the unnecessary amount of breasts, and Harry vowed to go out with the guys more often. The best part of the night was that Ron was enjoying himself so much. Soon, however, the girls realized the boys had no more money, and other tables did, so they moved away. That seemed to end the night, and Harry and Ron said their goodbyes and stumbled out the side door into the alley.
On the way out, Ron tripped over the curb and stumbled into Harry, pushing him back against the wall. Ron pushed back from the wall, hands on either side of Harry’s face. He looked down into Harry’s eyes.
“Hermione said I’m a bad kisser.”
Harry blinked. “Surely not. She wouldn’t say that to you.”
“Well, she didn’t say it to me. I overheard her one night when I was supposed to be out. She was talking on the couch with Susan before she left for University. They were drunk and discussing blokes and all that rot. And she said I wasn’t a great kisser. The truth is, I think it was her that was the bad kisser. Actually, she was bad at a lot of stuff, if you take my meaning.”
Harry covered his eyes and looked down. “Ron, I don’t want to hear about how Hermione is in bed!”
“I’m sure I’m a good kisser. Kiss me.”
Harry jerked his head up so fast that he was sure he pulled a muscle. Wide-eyed, he stared at Ron. “What?”
“Kiss me, Harry. I need you to tell me that it’s not me.” Ron looked down pleadingly.
Harry decided he could always blame this on alcohol later, and huffed, “Fine.” Ron smiled as Harry reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down. Their lips met and Harry’s eyes slid closed. Ron pushed Harry’s hips back against the wall and took a step in, deepening the kiss. One of Harry’s hands wandered into Ron’s hair and gripped a handful. Ron coaxed Harry’s lips open with his, and slipped his tongue in Harry’s mouth.
Ron’s hands slid down to Harry’s thighs. Harry returned the kiss with fervor, as he felt his feet leaving the ground, and he wrapped his legs around Ron’s waist. Harry’s world was spinning, which was definitely not a result of the alcohol, and he felt like he was flying. Harry had always been the practical type, so he never allowed himself to develop a crush on Ron. It could never amount to anything, so why bother wasting time on it. Now, however. This was perfect. But for Ron it was just a kiss. It would end, and Ron would go back to pining over Hermione. But Hermione had chosen to leave. She had left for four years of a Muggle University in America, leaving a broken Ron behind.
Ron slid his hands back to rest on Harry’s arse. He broke the kiss accompanied by a whine of protest from Harry until Ron moved his lips to Harry’s neck and set about leaving marks on it. “Ron,” Harry moaned. He meant to protest that they should stop now, but it came out more needy than it did an objection.
“Mmmm…” Ron hummed against Harry’s skin. His lips returned to Harry’s, who gasped as Ron ground his erection into Harry’s. His erection?! Harry understood why he was aroused, but why was Ron? He had to stop this now, or Ron might do something he would end up regretting when he sobered.
Harry pulled away from Ron and leaned his head back against the wall. “Ron, I think I can safely say that you are a fantastic kisser. But I think we should go home now.”
“Yes, home. Good idea,” Ron whispered, as he attached his lips to Harry’s neck again.
Before he knew it, Harry felt himself being Side-Along Apparated home. He quickly scrambled out of Ron’s arms and checked for missing limbs. “You git! You know not to Apparate while pissed! We could have been Splinched! What are you thinking?” Finally looking up at Ron, Harry realized Ron was barely paying attention. His eyes were dark, and he was breathing quickly. “Ron?”
In answer, Ron grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him down the hallway to his bedroom in a parallel of what Harry had done to Ron earlier.
“Ron? Ron?” Harry asked, nervously. But Ron was pulling Harry into his room. Harry yelped as Ron grabbed him by the hips and tossed him onto the bed. “Ron,” Harry started again as Ron climbed onto him, pinning his entire body to the bed, including his arms above his head.
“Yeah, Harry?” Ron finally answered, lust evident in his voice. His face was a mere few centimeters from Harry’s.
“Er, well, what are you doing?”
“Something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time,” he answered, crashing his mouth down onto Harry’s. Shifting his hands so that one held both of Harry’s wrists, he used the other to slowly undo the buttons on Harry’s shirt. Once he had uncovered Harry’s nipples, he abandoned the shirt to pinch one nipple hard, causing Harry to throw his head back and gasp.
This was Harry’s breaking point. No more logical thought entered his head, and he didn’t worry about how Ron would feel in the morning, or if he would lose his friendship after he sobered. Instead, he gained the leverage to grind his hips up against Ron’s. This further ignited Ron, who ripped the rest of Harry’s shirt off, sending the buttons flying. He sat up to pull his own t-shirt up and over his head, then settled back down to undo Harry’s belt.
Harry stared in wonder at Ron’s chest. He had always been allowed to look, but never to touch, so he took the time to run his hands all over it, learning and memorizing every muscle, scar, and patch of hair. He brushed his thumbs over the erect nipples just as he felt his trousers and pants being pulled off. He lifted his hips in assistance, then started laughing as Ron couldn’t seem to figure out how to get the trousers off over Harry’s shoes. Ron began laughing, too, as he unlaced the shoes and pulled them off. He also, very quickly, toed off his own shoes and dropped the rest of his kit. Ron naked was quite a sight, and Harry shuddered in desire as Ron climbed back on top of him.
“Fuck, Harry,” Ron whispered, as he ground his hips down. “Let me try something? A fantasy I've had?” he asked.
“Anything,” Harry moaned, his eyes rolled back as Ron skimmed the skin on his abdomen with his fingertips. His moan quickly turned into a yelp as he felt his knees being pushed up and apart, and the warmth of Ron’s body disappeared. He was about to complain until he felt Ron’s breath ghosting across his entrance. He tensed as he felt Ron lick a long stripe along his crack, then shuddered as Ron concentrated his attention on Harry’s hole. Harry had been on the receiving end of this maybe twice, but they were easily the best two sexual experiences of his life. This, however, was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Just knowing it was Ron made it somehow better. Harry’s voice came out as a constant moan, as Ron began stabbing his tongue in and out of Harry. It was more than Harry could take. He grabbed a handful of Ron’s ginger hair, and groaned, “Oh, Merlin, Ron! Fuck me!”
Ron looked up smiling, wiped saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “Yeah?”
“Oh, Merlin, right now!”
“Okay!” He nearly bounced off the bed to grab the lube from his bed-side table. He returned with a grin that spread from ear to ear. “Tell me if I hurt you.” He lathered his cock with some of the lube and positioned it at Harry’s entrance. Harry was so relaxed that the head popped in easy. Ron waited a moment before he slid the rest of the way in. “Fuck, Harry,” he shouted, as he pulled back and pushed in again. After a minute of slow thrusting, Ron asked, “Am I doing it right?”
Harry loved the slow pace, but was ready for more, so he answered, “Put my feet up on your shoulders and go faster.”
Ron pulled Harry’s feet up to his shoulders, and was rewarded by an, “Oh, Merlin, fuck, Jesus, Ron! Right there!” Smiling, Ron picked up his pace, and soon every word out of Harry’s mouth was a swear word, interspersed with names that Ron assumed were Muggle Gods. Ron took Harry’s neglected cock in hand and pumped it all of five times before Harry arched and came onto his hand with a shout. Harry’s arse contracted around Ron’s cock sending him over the edge. With a shout, he collapsed on top of Harry, kissing him deeply before, for fear of crushing him, he rolled off, and promptly fell asleep.
The next morning Harry awoke in Ron’s bed, and memories of the night before rushed back to him. “Shit!” he whispered. He knew that this would be the end of their friendship. Ron would wake up, would remember what they did, and would avoid Harry for the rest of his life.
The arm that was resting across Harry’s hips tightened, pulling him back against Ron. Harry felt a soft kiss graze the back of his neck. “What’s the matter?” Ron asked in his sexy scratchy morning voice.
Harry turned in Ron’s arms to face him. Ron was grinning at him. “Ron, do you remember last night?”
“Yeah.” He answered, grin getting even larger.
“So, why aren’t you running for the hills?”
The smile dropped off of Ron’s face. “You mean, Hermione didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Harry asked, hope starting to rise in him.
“Well, the reason we broke up. It wasn’t only about her going to University. You didn’t notice all the fighting we were doing, or that she never spent the night over?”
Harry thought about it, and he had noticed, but hadn’t thought that much about it. Fighting just seemed to be the normal way that Ron and Hermione interacted. “Yeah, I guess.”
“And when did all our fighting start?”
“When you were eleven!” Harry laughed.
Ron snorted. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But when did all the real serious fighting start?”
Harry thought. “I guess back in the summer. Somewhere around my birthday.”
“Exactly. You brought that Steven bloke to your birthday and came out of the closet.”
“And?” Harry asked.
“That’s when I realized I wanted you.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yeah, and I told Hermione about it, and all of our fighting has been her telling me to talk to you about it, and me clinging to her in an attempt to prove my heterosexuality. I was being stupid, and I was scared. She said part of the reason that she was going to University was so that I would stop using her to hide behind, and actually say something to you.” Ron looked down, and blushed from ear to ear.
“But, but,” Harry sputtered. “But, Ron, you’ve been a mess. You’ve been pining over her, you haven’t left the couch. You’ve been down-right pathetic!”
“I know, but it wasn’t because of Hermione. Though I will miss her a lot. She is an amazing girl. It was because I assumed Hermione had said something to you, and since you didn't mention it to me, it meant you didn't feel the same way. And I was terrified to say anything to you. I was trying to gather my courage, and then I had to serve breakfast to that Andrew bloke, and I thought for sure you wouldn’t be interested. I just got down and couldn’t seem to get out of it. Until you made me. Hermione honestly didn’t tell you?”
“No,” Harry whispered. He was in shock. He wanted to pinch himself to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming. He settled for kissing Ron. Ron pulled Harry tight against him, and wrapped him in his arms. After they broke the kiss, Ron nuzzled Harry’s neck, then they rested forehead to forehead, staring into each other’s eyes.
Ron placed a soft kiss on Harry’s eyelid, and asked, “So, are you mine?”
“Yours.” Harry nodded.
“No more breakfast for blokes called Andrew?”
“No, only breakfast in bed for me,” Harry answered with a smile, placing another kiss on Ron’s lips.
“Merlin, I wonder what our friends will say about this?”
“I think they’ll all be fine with it,” Harry answered. “And since you’re fairly famous, Seamus will just be happy that you’ve been taken out of the running for picking up girls!”
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry does his best mate duties to try and get Ron out of his break-up funk.
Word Count: 3,237
Warnings: implied Ron/Hermione, implied Harry/OMCs, rimming (though I believe that should be more of an incentive rather than a warning…)
Disclaimer: I don’t own. Property of J.K Rowling. For entertainment purposes only. Even if it only entertains myself.
Notes: Written for the 2009
hprwfqf , admittedly a little late. Betaed by the fabulous asnowyowl . Thanks so much; you’re the best!Taken Out of the Running
Harry flooed home to find Ron on the couch again; Firewhiskey bottle in hand and empty pizza box at his feet. He was in his pyjamas, and his hair was obviously unwashed for yet another day. Harry was afraid to get too close for fear that the weeks of grunge and filth would rub off on him. Scrubbing his hand across his face in irritation, Harry walked into the hallway and entered the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he adjusted it to the correct temperature, then marched back into the living room.
“Okay, that’s enough, Ron. Get up now,” Harry said, grabbing Ron’s hand and pulling him up off of the couch. Yanking him down the hallway, with Ron obediently but lethargically following, Harry continued, “Get in the shower. I’m taking you out. You’ve had more than enough time to mourn.” When they got to the bathroom, Harry spun Ron around and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Ron raised his arms up obligingly.
“You’re always trying to get me naked.” Ron laughed, which had been an unusual sound to Harry’s ears for the last month. “Is this where the term ‘shirtlifter’ came from?”
“Oh, very clever.” Harry smirked, happy to see Ron’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Now, do I need to take your bottoms off, or can you handle it?”
“Yeah, I think I’m good, mate, but thanks.”
Harry turned to the sink to search out his toothbrush as Ron stripped off and got in the shower.
“Where are we going?” Ron asked a couple minutes later from behind the curtain.
Harry spat toothpaste into the sink so that he could answer. “Well, it seems to me that you’re not progressing through the stages of grieving properly.”
“What, you mean, like, denial, anger, bargaining; all that rubbish?” Ron said, poking his head out from behind the curtain, a scowl on his face.
“Well, something like that. I just mean, your arse has been glued to the sofa for a month now, and I’m surprised you haven’t started growing into it. You haven’t been going to work, you have pizzas delivered straight to the couch, and you’re normally three sheets to the wind by the time I get home. It’s time for you to progress to the next stage.”
“Yeah? Which is?”
Harry rinsed his mouth as Ron stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. “The next stage in grieving, as I understand it, is strip clubs.”
Ron laughed, a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re going to take me to a strip club?”
“Yes.”
“A strip club where women strip?”
“Yes!” Shaking his head, Harry wandered out of the bathroom and into Ron’s room in search of clean clothes. Finding a clean-looking pair of trousers, pants, and a wrinkled shirt in a pile in the corner, Harry snatched them up and sniffed them. They smelled fine, so he cast a de-wrinkle charm on the shirt and brought them back to Ron.
“Thanks, mate,” Ron said, pulling the pants on and scrubbing his wet hair with the towel. A few minutes later, Ron was ready to go.
“So, where is this place?”
“I pass by it when I go to the market. It’s Muggle. We’ll go there. Seamus and Neville are meeting us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, that’s brilliant! I haven’t seen those blokes in months. I still can’t believe you’re going. You’re a really good mate, Harry.” Ron chuckled as they walked out the front door and started down the street.
Harry looked up at Ron. “Listen, I can’t avoid my best-mate duty just because I don’t particularly enjoy girly bits bouncing in my face. Besides, I can enjoy the female form from a purely artistic standpoint.” Harry pointed Ron to the left side of the street where the club stood.
Walking into the club, Ron looked around. “Yeah, I don’t think these are the type of girls that you can possibly look at artistically!”
Harry quickly found Seamus and Neville. Seamus seemed to already be making quite a spectacle of himself. Harry signaled the bartender for two beers and pointed over to the table they were about to take. This night would call for a lot of alcohol on Harry’s end.
“Mates! Good to see ya!” Seamus slurred, drunkenly hugging both Ron and Harry simultaneously.
“Hey Seamus! Nev!” Ron clasped Neville on the back. Neville seemed to be much more sober. He also couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from the stage to greet the new arrivals.
“Hey, guys,” he said, only looking at Harry and Ron briefly. “Good to see you among the living, Ron,” he added, tossing back a shot.
“Ah, leave the boy alone! Breakups are hard.”
“Yes, that’s very insightful. Thank you, Seamus,” Neville snorted.
Both Harry and Ron then proceeded to get exorbitantly drunk. Ron seemed to be enjoying himself, and whooped with all the other male patrons when the girls would do something outrageous. All of the dancers tended to stay close to Ron, as he kept sticking very large bills in their underwear. Harry assumed this was due more to the fact that he had yet to figure out Muggle money rather than he was just a good tipper. Harry was just happy to see Ron laughing and generally having a good time. And it definitely made Seamus and Neville happy to have the girls so close.
Seamus looked over to Harry. “So, Harry, what about this,” he made a broad sweep of his hand to indicate all the naked girls, “doesn’t appeal to ya?”
Harry just rolled his eyes, while Ron shouted over the music, “Leave him alone, Shay. Harry is the best mate in the world, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him! I love that guy!”
Harry’s lips curved up into a small smile against his will and he was sure he blushed.
“No, it’s fine, mate. More for me! It’s easier to get girls when you don’t have to compete with ‘The Chosen One’ for them!” Seamus shouted.
“Don’t call me that!”
Ron turned to Harry and exclaimed, “Hermione’s breasts are so much nicer looking than these.”
“Well, of course they are. Hers are natural, while these…” Harry flicked his eyes up at the breasts bouncing in front of him for a moment, “definitely aren’t.” A dancer had made her way very close to Harry, and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “No, thank you, miss. Not interested,” Harry said, waving her over to Seamus, who happily took her, with a lecherous look on his face.
“See!” he said. “So much easier.” Harry started laughing, which then started the whole table laughing. More beers were ordered, and the last of Ron’s money was dispensed. The night was quite entertaining, despite the unnecessary amount of breasts, and Harry vowed to go out with the guys more often. The best part of the night was that Ron was enjoying himself so much. Soon, however, the girls realized the boys had no more money, and other tables did, so they moved away. That seemed to end the night, and Harry and Ron said their goodbyes and stumbled out the side door into the alley.
On the way out, Ron tripped over the curb and stumbled into Harry, pushing him back against the wall. Ron pushed back from the wall, hands on either side of Harry’s face. He looked down into Harry’s eyes.
“Hermione said I’m a bad kisser.”
Harry blinked. “Surely not. She wouldn’t say that to you.”
“Well, she didn’t say it to me. I overheard her one night when I was supposed to be out. She was talking on the couch with Susan before she left for University. They were drunk and discussing blokes and all that rot. And she said I wasn’t a great kisser. The truth is, I think it was her that was the bad kisser. Actually, she was bad at a lot of stuff, if you take my meaning.”
Harry covered his eyes and looked down. “Ron, I don’t want to hear about how Hermione is in bed!”
“I’m sure I’m a good kisser. Kiss me.”
Harry jerked his head up so fast that he was sure he pulled a muscle. Wide-eyed, he stared at Ron. “What?”
“Kiss me, Harry. I need you to tell me that it’s not me.” Ron looked down pleadingly.
Harry decided he could always blame this on alcohol later, and huffed, “Fine.” Ron smiled as Harry reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down. Their lips met and Harry’s eyes slid closed. Ron pushed Harry’s hips back against the wall and took a step in, deepening the kiss. One of Harry’s hands wandered into Ron’s hair and gripped a handful. Ron coaxed Harry’s lips open with his, and slipped his tongue in Harry’s mouth.
Ron’s hands slid down to Harry’s thighs. Harry returned the kiss with fervor, as he felt his feet leaving the ground, and he wrapped his legs around Ron’s waist. Harry’s world was spinning, which was definitely not a result of the alcohol, and he felt like he was flying. Harry had always been the practical type, so he never allowed himself to develop a crush on Ron. It could never amount to anything, so why bother wasting time on it. Now, however. This was perfect. But for Ron it was just a kiss. It would end, and Ron would go back to pining over Hermione. But Hermione had chosen to leave. She had left for four years of a Muggle University in America, leaving a broken Ron behind.
Ron slid his hands back to rest on Harry’s arse. He broke the kiss accompanied by a whine of protest from Harry until Ron moved his lips to Harry’s neck and set about leaving marks on it. “Ron,” Harry moaned. He meant to protest that they should stop now, but it came out more needy than it did an objection.
“Mmmm…” Ron hummed against Harry’s skin. His lips returned to Harry’s, who gasped as Ron ground his erection into Harry’s. His erection?! Harry understood why he was aroused, but why was Ron? He had to stop this now, or Ron might do something he would end up regretting when he sobered.
Harry pulled away from Ron and leaned his head back against the wall. “Ron, I think I can safely say that you are a fantastic kisser. But I think we should go home now.”
“Yes, home. Good idea,” Ron whispered, as he attached his lips to Harry’s neck again.
Before he knew it, Harry felt himself being Side-Along Apparated home. He quickly scrambled out of Ron’s arms and checked for missing limbs. “You git! You know not to Apparate while pissed! We could have been Splinched! What are you thinking?” Finally looking up at Ron, Harry realized Ron was barely paying attention. His eyes were dark, and he was breathing quickly. “Ron?”
In answer, Ron grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him down the hallway to his bedroom in a parallel of what Harry had done to Ron earlier.
“Ron? Ron?” Harry asked, nervously. But Ron was pulling Harry into his room. Harry yelped as Ron grabbed him by the hips and tossed him onto the bed. “Ron,” Harry started again as Ron climbed onto him, pinning his entire body to the bed, including his arms above his head.
“Yeah, Harry?” Ron finally answered, lust evident in his voice. His face was a mere few centimeters from Harry’s.
“Er, well, what are you doing?”
“Something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time,” he answered, crashing his mouth down onto Harry’s. Shifting his hands so that one held both of Harry’s wrists, he used the other to slowly undo the buttons on Harry’s shirt. Once he had uncovered Harry’s nipples, he abandoned the shirt to pinch one nipple hard, causing Harry to throw his head back and gasp.
This was Harry’s breaking point. No more logical thought entered his head, and he didn’t worry about how Ron would feel in the morning, or if he would lose his friendship after he sobered. Instead, he gained the leverage to grind his hips up against Ron’s. This further ignited Ron, who ripped the rest of Harry’s shirt off, sending the buttons flying. He sat up to pull his own t-shirt up and over his head, then settled back down to undo Harry’s belt.
Harry stared in wonder at Ron’s chest. He had always been allowed to look, but never to touch, so he took the time to run his hands all over it, learning and memorizing every muscle, scar, and patch of hair. He brushed his thumbs over the erect nipples just as he felt his trousers and pants being pulled off. He lifted his hips in assistance, then started laughing as Ron couldn’t seem to figure out how to get the trousers off over Harry’s shoes. Ron began laughing, too, as he unlaced the shoes and pulled them off. He also, very quickly, toed off his own shoes and dropped the rest of his kit. Ron naked was quite a sight, and Harry shuddered in desire as Ron climbed back on top of him.
“Fuck, Harry,” Ron whispered, as he ground his hips down. “Let me try something? A fantasy I've had?” he asked.
“Anything,” Harry moaned, his eyes rolled back as Ron skimmed the skin on his abdomen with his fingertips. His moan quickly turned into a yelp as he felt his knees being pushed up and apart, and the warmth of Ron’s body disappeared. He was about to complain until he felt Ron’s breath ghosting across his entrance. He tensed as he felt Ron lick a long stripe along his crack, then shuddered as Ron concentrated his attention on Harry’s hole. Harry had been on the receiving end of this maybe twice, but they were easily the best two sexual experiences of his life. This, however, was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Just knowing it was Ron made it somehow better. Harry’s voice came out as a constant moan, as Ron began stabbing his tongue in and out of Harry. It was more than Harry could take. He grabbed a handful of Ron’s ginger hair, and groaned, “Oh, Merlin, Ron! Fuck me!”
Ron looked up smiling, wiped saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, “Yeah?”
“Oh, Merlin, right now!”
“Okay!” He nearly bounced off the bed to grab the lube from his bed-side table. He returned with a grin that spread from ear to ear. “Tell me if I hurt you.” He lathered his cock with some of the lube and positioned it at Harry’s entrance. Harry was so relaxed that the head popped in easy. Ron waited a moment before he slid the rest of the way in. “Fuck, Harry,” he shouted, as he pulled back and pushed in again. After a minute of slow thrusting, Ron asked, “Am I doing it right?”
Harry loved the slow pace, but was ready for more, so he answered, “Put my feet up on your shoulders and go faster.”
Ron pulled Harry’s feet up to his shoulders, and was rewarded by an, “Oh, Merlin, fuck, Jesus, Ron! Right there!” Smiling, Ron picked up his pace, and soon every word out of Harry’s mouth was a swear word, interspersed with names that Ron assumed were Muggle Gods. Ron took Harry’s neglected cock in hand and pumped it all of five times before Harry arched and came onto his hand with a shout. Harry’s arse contracted around Ron’s cock sending him over the edge. With a shout, he collapsed on top of Harry, kissing him deeply before, for fear of crushing him, he rolled off, and promptly fell asleep.
The next morning Harry awoke in Ron’s bed, and memories of the night before rushed back to him. “Shit!” he whispered. He knew that this would be the end of their friendship. Ron would wake up, would remember what they did, and would avoid Harry for the rest of his life.
The arm that was resting across Harry’s hips tightened, pulling him back against Ron. Harry felt a soft kiss graze the back of his neck. “What’s the matter?” Ron asked in his sexy scratchy morning voice.
Harry turned in Ron’s arms to face him. Ron was grinning at him. “Ron, do you remember last night?”
“Yeah.” He answered, grin getting even larger.
“So, why aren’t you running for the hills?”
The smile dropped off of Ron’s face. “You mean, Hermione didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Harry asked, hope starting to rise in him.
“Well, the reason we broke up. It wasn’t only about her going to University. You didn’t notice all the fighting we were doing, or that she never spent the night over?”
Harry thought about it, and he had noticed, but hadn’t thought that much about it. Fighting just seemed to be the normal way that Ron and Hermione interacted. “Yeah, I guess.”
“And when did all our fighting start?”
“When you were eleven!” Harry laughed.
Ron snorted. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But when did all the real serious fighting start?”
Harry thought. “I guess back in the summer. Somewhere around my birthday.”
“Exactly. You brought that Steven bloke to your birthday and came out of the closet.”
“And?” Harry asked.
“That’s when I realized I wanted you.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yeah, and I told Hermione about it, and all of our fighting has been her telling me to talk to you about it, and me clinging to her in an attempt to prove my heterosexuality. I was being stupid, and I was scared. She said part of the reason that she was going to University was so that I would stop using her to hide behind, and actually say something to you.” Ron looked down, and blushed from ear to ear.
“But, but,” Harry sputtered. “But, Ron, you’ve been a mess. You’ve been pining over her, you haven’t left the couch. You’ve been down-right pathetic!”
“I know, but it wasn’t because of Hermione. Though I will miss her a lot. She is an amazing girl. It was because I assumed Hermione had said something to you, and since you didn't mention it to me, it meant you didn't feel the same way. And I was terrified to say anything to you. I was trying to gather my courage, and then I had to serve breakfast to that Andrew bloke, and I thought for sure you wouldn’t be interested. I just got down and couldn’t seem to get out of it. Until you made me. Hermione honestly didn’t tell you?”
“No,” Harry whispered. He was in shock. He wanted to pinch himself to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming. He settled for kissing Ron. Ron pulled Harry tight against him, and wrapped him in his arms. After they broke the kiss, Ron nuzzled Harry’s neck, then they rested forehead to forehead, staring into each other’s eyes.
Ron placed a soft kiss on Harry’s eyelid, and asked, “So, are you mine?”
“Yours.” Harry nodded.
“No more breakfast for blokes called Andrew?”
“No, only breakfast in bed for me,” Harry answered with a smile, placing another kiss on Ron’s lips.
“Merlin, I wonder what our friends will say about this?”
“I think they’ll all be fine with it,” Harry answered. “And since you’re fairly famous, Seamus will just be happy that you’ve been taken out of the running for picking up girls!”
no subject
“Yours.” Harry nodded.
*shocolate nodded*
See? It really is that simple, Harry!!
Well smooshed together!
no subject
*smooshes you*
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I saw Mike Doughty in concert last year, and it was awesome! Except, I was by far the youngest person there. But then I went to the Kate Nash show and was easily the oldest person there that wasn't a chaperon. What do the kids my age listen to?
no subject
We are definitely soul mates if you not only know who Mike Doughty is, but you like him, too! I saw him in Nashville back in... uh... gosh, I don't even remember, several years back. And he was awesome, I was totally starstruck and mesmerized the entire time, and I was so far away I could barely see him. I'd probably have been insensible if I'd been close to the stage. I've never kept up with what the people my age are listening to, because it never seems to be something I'm interested in. I stick to my own thing and have a blast.
(Sorry to have been so long responding; I had to replace my desktop and was using the laptop for everything, and in the excitement of the new desktop, I forgot about all the mail on the laptop which was mostly LJ comments I needed to respond to. I hope that made sense. hehe)
no subject
no subject
yay! good job :D
no subject
Listen, kid, stop throwing abbreviations at me that I don't understand. You enjoy making me google-search your replies, don't you? LOL!
no subject
What abbreviation did I use?
UNF?
That's more of onomatopoeia...xD
no subject
no subject
It's sort of my grunt of enjoyment. and just..yeah xD
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Yes, wall kissing! Walls shouldn't be such a sensual object... but they somehow manage it. Maybe only when Ron's around.
no subject
xxx
no subject
xxx
no subject
This was a fun read, and very hot! Well done! :)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Anyways.
GAH! Ron! Nakedness! Ron and nakedness! Naked Ron and Naked Ron's chest! Ron and tonguing activities! NAKED!
*babababa*
Yeah, I sort of loved this. :D *copies into Word and saves on memory stick*
no subject
Thank you so much! Yes, Ron should be naked always! And oh, his tongue. I'm really jealous of Harry, actually. Is it okay to be jealous of a fictional character?
Thanks for reading! Your review made me blush. *hugs*
no subject
We should start a Ron Weasley Shall Remain Naked Forever -petition.
no subject
no subject