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sooooo bad. soooo late. STILL NOT DONE. *hides in shame* the good news? once spring break hits i'll have some free time, and i'll be able to write the third (and final?) part! mods, please let me know if i'm throwing things off with this post and i'll delete it (or feel free to do so yourselves).
Title: Harry's Forgiveness, Part Two
Author: yura_slash
Rating: R for sexual situations (that are not Harry/Ron!)
Word Count: 1,216
Challenge: Post-War 16. Ron refuses to tell his family about their relationship because of Ginny.
Genre: Drama- oh the drama!
Warnings: Harry/OMC, wall sex, memory charms, sick!Ron
A/N: part one is here. very late and now in three parts. must stop... plot development... ;P
Harry's Forgiveness: Part Two
Ron scrubbed his face tiredly and shifted underneath his newspapers. He’d Glamoured himself to look like a common homeless man, and he was trying to keep watch over the doors to an establishment across the street, but he was so damn tired that he kept nodding off.
He pinched himself in irritation. If Harry meant anything to him, he would stay awake!
He shifted again-his bum had fallen asleep-and tried not to think about the last time he’d had a decent meal. The problem with running away when you were dirt poor was that you were... well, dirt poor. He’d been gone for a week and had only managed a sandwich or two and a couple of quick meals at a vendor, anything he could pay for with the coins passerby threw at him. He hadn’t lifted his glamour, not for a moment, but he didn’t think his body was undergoing any permanent damage.
Even if it was, he more than deserved it.
He shook his head and glared at the doors across the alley from where he sat, propped up against a dumpster. He’d spent the last week sleeping on the streets and hanging out in alleyways just like this all over Muggle London, hoping for a glimpse of Harry or a word of some sort, but no such luck. He’d finally decided to target his search, and with a sense of dread he started hanging out in front of well-known gay clubs, willing Harry to come out of them at the same time that he hoped he wouldn’t. He wasn’t even sure that he would recognize Harry if he saw him (surely he would be under a glamour, as well) but he’d watched for him anyways.
Just as he was about to drift off, a familiar magical signature tingled at the edge of his senses and he sat up straight. Harry!
His eyes snapped to the door of the club just in time to see a young man slip out, his face bright as he laughed. Harry...
It had to be Harry.
Harry with someone else.
His stomach clenched and he felt like vomiting. Harry-even though it wasn’t Harry’s face it had to be him-was under the arm of another man and was looking up into his eyes, his face flushing beautifully as he smiled and joked...
Oh no... no, no no no...
Then they were kissing. The other man, taller and darker than Ron had ever been, was pressing Harry against the back alley’s brick wall and kissing him desperately. His hands were everywhere, touching and tugging and pulling until Harry’s shirt was hanging from his shoulders, buttons undone. It couldn’t be... but it was. Harry’s magical signature was pure despite the glamour.
The other man’s hand slipped inside Harry’s open shirt and plucked his nipples just... so... and Harry gasped. Nobody else was supposed to touch him there, or wring those noises out of him. How many other men... How far had he... Oh... Oh, Merlin... Ron leaned over and wretched against the dumpster he’d curled up to in the dark. Throwing up what little he’d eaten left him light-headed and weak, and the sandwich he’d put good money towards was wasted. If only that was all that was wrong. If only Harry wasn’t still...
The sounds of heavy panting and deep moans swam into his consciousness again. Oh, Merlin no...
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked up to see Harry’s hands moving up the other man’s back and tugging at his shirt impatiently. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t...
The other man mumbled something against Harry’s neck and Harry groaned before letting his hands drop from his shirt. Ron’s window of sight had narrowed to the two of them as they writhed against the brick wall of the alley, and he watched, too horror-stricken to move, while Harry pushed Tall-Dark-and-Handsome away and began undoing his trousers. A slight whimper was all that Ron could summon in protest as the man Harry was with growled in appreciation and dropped to his knees, eagerly helping Harry free his cock from his pants and then pulling its throbbing length into his mouth without hesitation.
Ron’s eyes flew up to Harry’s glamoured face. The expressions that flickered across it were so beautiful, and yet so different with those paler, pointier features.
It felt like an eternity, watching them together.
Should it disturb him that Harry’s choice of glamour looked remarkably like Draco Malfoy?
Thoughts came and went as Ron leaned against the dumpster. Beside a puddle of his own vomit. Behind the seedy gay bar that he’d finally found Harry in. He hardly noticed his own glamour as it flickered and then faded out of existence.
That should be him on his knees, making Harry feel good, making Harry grab his hair and groan loud and long, making Harry call out his name...
Finally, Harry seemed close. He was doing that thing he always did, rising up on his toes and turning his face down into his shoulder, and then... “R-Ron!” Harry shouted, hips jerking as he emptied himself into the tall, handsome stranger.
It was enough to jerk Ron out of his stupor, as was the brief scuffle that ensued after Harry had come down the stranger’s throat. The man wanted more-he had to be hard as a rock in those tight jeans of his-but Harry was refusing. Ron gathered his wits, ready to pounce out of the shadows and do the bastard in, when Harry pulled his wand on the witless man and wiped the last fifteen minutes of his memory clean.
And the expression on his face as he did it, as he turned the man around and pushed him along on his way, was so sad that Ron felt another wave of regret overpower him. He’d done this - he had driven Harry away and pushed him to this. Made him think that his sexuality was disgusting and wrong and... and he’d said Ron’s name when he came...
Harry began striding away and Ron stood up quickly. He had to follow Harry - find out where he was staying. Maybe then he could talk to him when he wasn’t... busy with someone else. Good thing it was late at night, or Ron was sure that Harry would have noticed him by now. Why he hadn’t felt his magical signature was a mystery in and of itself, but Ron wasn’t going to take any chances by casting another glamour or a sneaking spell.
He wouldn’t do this in public. He needed to have this confrontation somewhere more private than an alley, somewhere where he could sit down and talk to Harry seriously about the way he felt. He wouldn’t mention the man he’d seen Harry with... that wasn’t any of his concern. He’d deserved it, really.
But Ron still... he still loved Harry with all his heart. He’d been his best mate for so many years and then they’d had so much more together...
So, with a hand on his still queasy stomach, Ron followed Harry out of the alleyway and onto the streets of London, feet light and eyes blazing. He would fix this if it was the last thing he did.
Title: Harry's Forgiveness, Part Two
Author: yura_slash
Rating: R for sexual situations (that are not Harry/Ron!)
Word Count: 1,216
Challenge: Post-War 16. Ron refuses to tell his family about their relationship because of Ginny.
Genre: Drama- oh the drama!
Warnings: Harry/OMC, wall sex, memory charms, sick!Ron
A/N: part one is here. very late and now in three parts. must stop... plot development... ;P
Harry's Forgiveness: Part Two
Ron scrubbed his face tiredly and shifted underneath his newspapers. He’d Glamoured himself to look like a common homeless man, and he was trying to keep watch over the doors to an establishment across the street, but he was so damn tired that he kept nodding off.
He pinched himself in irritation. If Harry meant anything to him, he would stay awake!
He shifted again-his bum had fallen asleep-and tried not to think about the last time he’d had a decent meal. The problem with running away when you were dirt poor was that you were... well, dirt poor. He’d been gone for a week and had only managed a sandwich or two and a couple of quick meals at a vendor, anything he could pay for with the coins passerby threw at him. He hadn’t lifted his glamour, not for a moment, but he didn’t think his body was undergoing any permanent damage.
Even if it was, he more than deserved it.
He shook his head and glared at the doors across the alley from where he sat, propped up against a dumpster. He’d spent the last week sleeping on the streets and hanging out in alleyways just like this all over Muggle London, hoping for a glimpse of Harry or a word of some sort, but no such luck. He’d finally decided to target his search, and with a sense of dread he started hanging out in front of well-known gay clubs, willing Harry to come out of them at the same time that he hoped he wouldn’t. He wasn’t even sure that he would recognize Harry if he saw him (surely he would be under a glamour, as well) but he’d watched for him anyways.
Just as he was about to drift off, a familiar magical signature tingled at the edge of his senses and he sat up straight. Harry!
His eyes snapped to the door of the club just in time to see a young man slip out, his face bright as he laughed. Harry...
It had to be Harry.
Harry with someone else.
His stomach clenched and he felt like vomiting. Harry-even though it wasn’t Harry’s face it had to be him-was under the arm of another man and was looking up into his eyes, his face flushing beautifully as he smiled and joked...
Oh no... no, no no no...
Then they were kissing. The other man, taller and darker than Ron had ever been, was pressing Harry against the back alley’s brick wall and kissing him desperately. His hands were everywhere, touching and tugging and pulling until Harry’s shirt was hanging from his shoulders, buttons undone. It couldn’t be... but it was. Harry’s magical signature was pure despite the glamour.
The other man’s hand slipped inside Harry’s open shirt and plucked his nipples just... so... and Harry gasped. Nobody else was supposed to touch him there, or wring those noises out of him. How many other men... How far had he... Oh... Oh, Merlin... Ron leaned over and wretched against the dumpster he’d curled up to in the dark. Throwing up what little he’d eaten left him light-headed and weak, and the sandwich he’d put good money towards was wasted. If only that was all that was wrong. If only Harry wasn’t still...
The sounds of heavy panting and deep moans swam into his consciousness again. Oh, Merlin no...
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked up to see Harry’s hands moving up the other man’s back and tugging at his shirt impatiently. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t...
The other man mumbled something against Harry’s neck and Harry groaned before letting his hands drop from his shirt. Ron’s window of sight had narrowed to the two of them as they writhed against the brick wall of the alley, and he watched, too horror-stricken to move, while Harry pushed Tall-Dark-and-Handsome away and began undoing his trousers. A slight whimper was all that Ron could summon in protest as the man Harry was with growled in appreciation and dropped to his knees, eagerly helping Harry free his cock from his pants and then pulling its throbbing length into his mouth without hesitation.
Ron’s eyes flew up to Harry’s glamoured face. The expressions that flickered across it were so beautiful, and yet so different with those paler, pointier features.
It felt like an eternity, watching them together.
Should it disturb him that Harry’s choice of glamour looked remarkably like Draco Malfoy?
Thoughts came and went as Ron leaned against the dumpster. Beside a puddle of his own vomit. Behind the seedy gay bar that he’d finally found Harry in. He hardly noticed his own glamour as it flickered and then faded out of existence.
That should be him on his knees, making Harry feel good, making Harry grab his hair and groan loud and long, making Harry call out his name...
Finally, Harry seemed close. He was doing that thing he always did, rising up on his toes and turning his face down into his shoulder, and then... “R-Ron!” Harry shouted, hips jerking as he emptied himself into the tall, handsome stranger.
It was enough to jerk Ron out of his stupor, as was the brief scuffle that ensued after Harry had come down the stranger’s throat. The man wanted more-he had to be hard as a rock in those tight jeans of his-but Harry was refusing. Ron gathered his wits, ready to pounce out of the shadows and do the bastard in, when Harry pulled his wand on the witless man and wiped the last fifteen minutes of his memory clean.
And the expression on his face as he did it, as he turned the man around and pushed him along on his way, was so sad that Ron felt another wave of regret overpower him. He’d done this - he had driven Harry away and pushed him to this. Made him think that his sexuality was disgusting and wrong and... and he’d said Ron’s name when he came...
Harry began striding away and Ron stood up quickly. He had to follow Harry - find out where he was staying. Maybe then he could talk to him when he wasn’t... busy with someone else. Good thing it was late at night, or Ron was sure that Harry would have noticed him by now. Why he hadn’t felt his magical signature was a mystery in and of itself, but Ron wasn’t going to take any chances by casting another glamour or a sneaking spell.
He wouldn’t do this in public. He needed to have this confrontation somewhere more private than an alley, somewhere where he could sit down and talk to Harry seriously about the way he felt. He wouldn’t mention the man he’d seen Harry with... that wasn’t any of his concern. He’d deserved it, really.
But Ron still... he still loved Harry with all his heart. He’d been his best mate for so many years and then they’d had so much more together...
So, with a hand on his still queasy stomach, Ron followed Harry out of the alleyway and onto the streets of London, feet light and eyes blazing. He would fix this if it was the last thing he did.