Addicted
Title: Addicted
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Draco/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do not own, do not wish to own, no harm done to them during my play and have been returned promptly to their rightful owner.
Warnings: Hallway smex, gay smex, sexy smex, wait.. this aren't warnings anymore are they?
Summary: Draco and Ron are addicted.
Author's Notes: Okay, well this was part of an art trade- and I'm a little leary of art trade's anymore because this was the second one I've done where now- long after I originally took the time to write this for them- I still haven't received my end. (I finished this for her in July of 2008 btw... but ah well) I've been updating a story listing on my livejournal so I thought I'd post all the stories I'd forgotten to previously. :)
Addicted
Walking down the corridor's to dinner was a usual sort of thing to do. The golden trio as it were was walking together, laughing about some trouble Harry had gotten into in Snape's class again when a body suddenly connected with Ron's shoulder. The red headed boy whipped his head up and growled, “watch where you going Ferret,” he sneered, glaring at Draco when he turned his head back.
“You ran into me Weasel,” he sneered right back, turning his nose up and continuing in the way he'd come, making his way imperiously through the throng of people.
Ron glowered as he watched him, fingers sliding over the piece of paper in his hand he unfolded it and glanced down at it, stomach doing those tell-tell flips as he read over the familiar elegant scrawl.
Steps slowing he glanced up at his two friends still walking, trying to keep his cheeks from heating, “hey guys, I forgot something.. I'll meet you down there,” he said, getting a funny look and a wave from his friends before they turned to head in without him.
Heart thudding lightly against his chest he looked at the note again before moving down the hall where the blond haired boy had disappeared moments before. He tried to tell himself he wasn't going to give in, that this time he was going to tell the ponce to shove it but his traitorous cock was already throbbing against his trousers, mind racing with the memory of past encounters.
Ron picked up his pace a little, turning a corner when suddenly a hand reached out from the shadows and he found himself yanked into a dark alcove and slammed against the wall. His cry of pain, outrage.. arousal.. was swallowed by a pair of desperate, wonderful, talented lips against his, tongue pressing past his lips as frantic fingers were working to undo his robes.
Ron couldn't help it, he groaned when those elegant fingers brushed over him through his pants and his reward was a breathy sort of chuckle from the blond who was so desperate to touch him. Draco's pants were already undone and he pushed them down to his ankles before doing the same with Ron's, shoving their robes out of the way so he could press right up against him.
Twin moans echoed from their throats at the contact and when Draco thrust against him, Ron's hips answered the call with equal desperation, “ah fuck, I hate you Malfoy.” It was a plea, a curse, desperate to make himself believe it was still true as he nipped at the lips in front of his, uncaring if he bruised them, wanting to bruise them.
Draco moaned and shifted his hips against Ron's, hard cocks moving together. “You always say that,” he breathed with another husky chuckle, “but you keep coming back.” He thrust up against him again, “always come back. Always cum.”
Ron groaned and slid a hand up and into Draco's hair, taking a private joy in tousling the carefully arranged silk and yanked his head forward so their lips crashed together again. His tongue forced its way into a moaning Draco's mouth, making the blond's hips jerk erratically in response.
Elegant fingers slid down Ron's chest and between them, wrapping with graceful ease around both of their cocks as he yanked his head back to meet Ron's eyes, the flushed, lust driven, pale face making Ron's cock throb harder, leaking down along Draco's fingers as he worked them both. “Face it Weasley,” he breathed, moaning as his hips moved against their hands, “you're just as addicted to this as I am. You want it just as much, you breathe it, can taste it. It's consuming us both.”
Ron moaned again and pulled those lips back to his in desperation, unable to dispute what he said and too proud to admit it he drowned his cries against Draco's soft, easily bruised lips as his hips snapped forward again and he came with a hoarse moan between them. A gasp and an answering moan and Draco was collapsing forward against him as his own release left him spent.
Ron's arms caught him automatically and held him there against him, both bodies trembling with the force of their release. Some part of Ron knew that yes, logically he should just clean up and leave Draco there to deal with his own mess, but there was something about how vulnerable the pureblood was just after release that kept him holding him there, fingers now stroking through his hair rather than gripping as he kept his eyes closed and worked to catch his breath.
Draco shivered and pulled back after a moment, a graceful wand movement and a muttered incantation and they were both clean, Draco's fingers, as always, helping to do Ron back up, setting his clothes to right before moving to redo himself. Biting his lip Ron reached out in an uncharacteristic gesture and helped do Draco back up, receiving a crooked little smirking grin for the effort.
Ron watched him, not sure really what to say before Draco surprised him by lifting up and placing just a soft kiss to his lips, “you're late for dinner...” he breathed, pulling back.
Ron's eyes widened as he realized he was right and he moved to quickly leave the Alcove, Draco following behind him as the corridor was empty now, watching him. Ron paused after a moment, biting his lip as he spoke without turning around “next time,” he said, the first time he'd ever agreed to a next time, “I pick the time.”
Ron looked back just in time to catch Draco's unguarded expression, a surprised little grin, before the mask was slipped back into place. “We'll see Weasel-bee,” he said, no venom to the nickname before Ron shook his head to himself and jogged in the direction of the great hall.
Ron tried, really tried not to think too hard on what he'd just done, tried so hard in fact that when he reached the great hall and sat down in front of his friends that he'd forgotten to cast a glamour over his own kiss swollen lips, a fact that neither of his friends missed and with a delighted glimmer in her eyes Hermione leaned forward, “So, who is this person who has the power to make Ron Weasley late for food?”
~Fin
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Draco/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do not own, do not wish to own, no harm done to them during my play and have been returned promptly to their rightful owner.
Warnings: Hallway smex, gay smex, sexy smex, wait.. this aren't warnings anymore are they?
Summary: Draco and Ron are addicted.
Author's Notes: Okay, well this was part of an art trade- and I'm a little leary of art trade's anymore because this was the second one I've done where now- long after I originally took the time to write this for them- I still haven't received my end. (I finished this for her in July of 2008 btw... but ah well) I've been updating a story listing on my livejournal so I thought I'd post all the stories I'd forgotten to previously. :)
Addicted
Walking down the corridor's to dinner was a usual sort of thing to do. The golden trio as it were was walking together, laughing about some trouble Harry had gotten into in Snape's class again when a body suddenly connected with Ron's shoulder. The red headed boy whipped his head up and growled, “watch where you going Ferret,” he sneered, glaring at Draco when he turned his head back.
“You ran into me Weasel,” he sneered right back, turning his nose up and continuing in the way he'd come, making his way imperiously through the throng of people.
Ron glowered as he watched him, fingers sliding over the piece of paper in his hand he unfolded it and glanced down at it, stomach doing those tell-tell flips as he read over the familiar elegant scrawl.
Steps slowing he glanced up at his two friends still walking, trying to keep his cheeks from heating, “hey guys, I forgot something.. I'll meet you down there,” he said, getting a funny look and a wave from his friends before they turned to head in without him.
Heart thudding lightly against his chest he looked at the note again before moving down the hall where the blond haired boy had disappeared moments before. He tried to tell himself he wasn't going to give in, that this time he was going to tell the ponce to shove it but his traitorous cock was already throbbing against his trousers, mind racing with the memory of past encounters.
Ron picked up his pace a little, turning a corner when suddenly a hand reached out from the shadows and he found himself yanked into a dark alcove and slammed against the wall. His cry of pain, outrage.. arousal.. was swallowed by a pair of desperate, wonderful, talented lips against his, tongue pressing past his lips as frantic fingers were working to undo his robes.
Ron couldn't help it, he groaned when those elegant fingers brushed over him through his pants and his reward was a breathy sort of chuckle from the blond who was so desperate to touch him. Draco's pants were already undone and he pushed them down to his ankles before doing the same with Ron's, shoving their robes out of the way so he could press right up against him.
Twin moans echoed from their throats at the contact and when Draco thrust against him, Ron's hips answered the call with equal desperation, “ah fuck, I hate you Malfoy.” It was a plea, a curse, desperate to make himself believe it was still true as he nipped at the lips in front of his, uncaring if he bruised them, wanting to bruise them.
Draco moaned and shifted his hips against Ron's, hard cocks moving together. “You always say that,” he breathed with another husky chuckle, “but you keep coming back.” He thrust up against him again, “always come back. Always cum.”
Ron groaned and slid a hand up and into Draco's hair, taking a private joy in tousling the carefully arranged silk and yanked his head forward so their lips crashed together again. His tongue forced its way into a moaning Draco's mouth, making the blond's hips jerk erratically in response.
Elegant fingers slid down Ron's chest and between them, wrapping with graceful ease around both of their cocks as he yanked his head back to meet Ron's eyes, the flushed, lust driven, pale face making Ron's cock throb harder, leaking down along Draco's fingers as he worked them both. “Face it Weasley,” he breathed, moaning as his hips moved against their hands, “you're just as addicted to this as I am. You want it just as much, you breathe it, can taste it. It's consuming us both.”
Ron moaned again and pulled those lips back to his in desperation, unable to dispute what he said and too proud to admit it he drowned his cries against Draco's soft, easily bruised lips as his hips snapped forward again and he came with a hoarse moan between them. A gasp and an answering moan and Draco was collapsing forward against him as his own release left him spent.
Ron's arms caught him automatically and held him there against him, both bodies trembling with the force of their release. Some part of Ron knew that yes, logically he should just clean up and leave Draco there to deal with his own mess, but there was something about how vulnerable the pureblood was just after release that kept him holding him there, fingers now stroking through his hair rather than gripping as he kept his eyes closed and worked to catch his breath.
Draco shivered and pulled back after a moment, a graceful wand movement and a muttered incantation and they were both clean, Draco's fingers, as always, helping to do Ron back up, setting his clothes to right before moving to redo himself. Biting his lip Ron reached out in an uncharacteristic gesture and helped do Draco back up, receiving a crooked little smirking grin for the effort.
Ron watched him, not sure really what to say before Draco surprised him by lifting up and placing just a soft kiss to his lips, “you're late for dinner...” he breathed, pulling back.
Ron's eyes widened as he realized he was right and he moved to quickly leave the Alcove, Draco following behind him as the corridor was empty now, watching him. Ron paused after a moment, biting his lip as he spoke without turning around “next time,” he said, the first time he'd ever agreed to a next time, “I pick the time.”
Ron looked back just in time to catch Draco's unguarded expression, a surprised little grin, before the mask was slipped back into place. “We'll see Weasel-bee,” he said, no venom to the nickname before Ron shook his head to himself and jogged in the direction of the great hall.
Ron tried, really tried not to think too hard on what he'd just done, tried so hard in fact that when he reached the great hall and sat down in front of his friends that he'd forgotten to cast a glamour over his own kiss swollen lips, a fact that neither of his friends missed and with a delighted glimmer in her eyes Hermione leaned forward, “So, who is this person who has the power to make Ron Weasley late for food?”
~Fin