Noises in the Night
Title: Noises in the Night
Rating: N-17 or R. Never fully understood where the line is.
Pairings: Ron/Harry
Disclaimer: I fully wrote harry potter.
Summary: Boys wanking in their school dorms lol. I wrote this quickly, but I would say they'd be about fifteen or sixteen, coz they know about the room of requirement. But this is mostly smutty fluff, not substance. I wrote it at three in the morning when I was bored.
***************************
It is widely assumed that when one attends a boarding school, ones wanking places become severely limited.
This is wrong in the highest degree. In fact, when one attends a boarding school, ones wanking places become amazingly varied.
Ronald Weasley had quite a number of wanking places, more lovingly referred to as ‘toss-off spots’ in his head. The toilets were a convenient enough location, as were the showers. Broom closets were frequently used, as were various empty classrooms. However, Ron had discovered rather angrily that the Room of Requirement would not open for such a need, despite Rons arguments that wanking was indeed a requirement of the most vigorous males (an argument which took place in what he had thought was an empty corridor, only to be proven spectacularly wrong by a group of third year Hufflepuffs, who sniggered as they walked on by).
In fact, the only place Ron never seemed to masturbate was in the comfort of his own bed. Something which, it would seem, he and his best mate did not have in common.
Ron’s eyes snapped open at three o clock in the morning to the sound of frantically rustling fabric. He would recognize the obscene noise anywhere- in school, in church, at his Grandmothers deathbed, ANYWHERE. Wanking. Furious wanking, by the sounds of it. And it was with a jolt of embarrassment when Ron realised from what part of the room the noise was emitting from.
Ron bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut to block out the sound of Harry’s masturbation. They were close, sure, but not that close. He didn’t want to be in the same room as Harry while he was doing something so intimate. Still, Ron reasoned, he was going at it pretty fast and Ron didn’t think he was going to last much longer. One stifled grunt and blissful sigh later and the noises slowed and stopped and Ron clamped a hand over his mouth to contain a relieved ‘thank god!’. Instead, he turned over as Harry’s breathing slowed and deepened into snores and Ron simply hoped he wouldn’t have to hear Harry doing that again anytime soon.
*
Ron was awake.
And annoyed.
Annoyed because he was awake.
And annoyed because he had no idea why he was awake. He lifted his head from his pillow, blearily trying to see in the dark, listening for the noise that had disturbed him from his slumber.
Rustling.
The rustling noise was back.
And it was louder.
Louder and accompanied by heavy panting.
Ron groaned into his pillow and the rustling stopped for a moment before picking up again, increasing in speed. Ron thought about clamping his pillow over his ears, but then he would have no idea of when to take it off.
So he listened.
Ron lay in the dark and listened to his best friends masturbation. It was different from last night. Harder, but not faster. It changed in rhythm and stopped every now and then, accompanied by a stifled groan. Ron considered this for a moment, wondering what kind of gratification Harry was getting out of denying himself pleasure for a moment, only to reward himself seconds later. It must be good, Ron decided as his cock jerked in agreement, because Harry did it quite a lot.
The experimental stopping and starting was replaced by frantic movement and then silence as a hissing sigh sounded from Harry’s bed. Ron leaned back, ready to sleep again but his eyes flew open as he realised with a sick swoop in his gut that he was hard.
Ron peered down his body and saw the familiar tent around his groin waiting expectantly. Ron reached a hand towards his groin and bit his lip, wondering if Harry ever woke anyone else up. A snore from Neville’s bed next to Rons made Ron blush and withdraw his hand quickly. Ron slept, trying not to think about his cock rubbing against the soft cotton of his pyjamas. Or anyone else’s for that matter, Ron told himself sternly as Harry’s snores began to sound.
*
Wanking.
Furious wanking.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room.
Ron stifled a groan and buried his face in his pillow. It was bad enough when Harry did it through his pyjamas, now he had to do it with his bare hand? The noise was unbearable, slick, fluid, familiar sounds reached Ron’s ears causing them to flush red with embarrassment. Ron rolled onto his back and stared up into the roof of his four-poster, waiting for the sound to quicken so that it would all get over and done with.
It was fast and furious and not at all experimental. Ron wondered if Harry was using lube or if he just slicked himself up with precome. The vision swam in front of Ron’s eyes- Harry, sweating, naked, pumping his cock in this very room, at this very second... Ron waved it away with a disgusted facial expression. He didn’t just think about his best friend wanking?
The sound sped up, slick, quick thrusts, Harry’s bed groaning almost as much as Harry himself and then there was the silence, the straining, tense silence which Ron had taken to mean Harry was coming, coming right now, thick pearly ropes streaming from him onto the sheets of his four poster. Visions flashed in Ron’s head- Harry, naked and arranged in various positions on his four-poster as come shot from his fisted cock. Rons prick gave a jolt, and he realised he had broken out in a slight sweat. The noise of a body hitting sheets bought Ron back to reality as he sighed and settled into his own bed, not wanting to delve into any reasons for his arousal. Ron was about to drift of again when…
....wanking.
Slow and deliberate. Oh my god, no way. Harry was starting up again.
“Not again!” Ron groaned without thinking and the slick sounds stopped immediately. Ron froze. Would Harry call him on it?
“Ron?”
Fuck.
“Ron? Are- are you awake?” asked Harry off-handedly.
“Mm.” Was all Ron could reply without his ears shrivelling and falling off in humiliation.
“Were you-? Did you hear… all of that?” Harry asked quietly.
Ron didn’t see any point in lying. He was crap at it anyway. “Yeah.” Ron admitted. In the dark, he could hear Harry wince.
“Sorry.” Harry whispered. Awkward silence. Then “Am I always that loud?”
Again, Ron cursed his inability to lie. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Ron could hear Harry fidgeting uncomfortably. “You never make noise.” Harry remarked casually, as one would comment on the weather or a particularly nice hat. Ron blushed in the dark.
“I don’t do it here.”
Harry laughed and Seamus made a startled noise in his sleep. “Oh, come on Ron, everyone does it its… y'know, one of those things.”
“I don’t do it HERE.” Ron corrected. Harry went silent, as if expecting Ron to elaborate. He didn’t. Harry didn’t give up.
“Where do you do it?” Harry pressed. Ron didn’t answer. Harry asked again. Ron feigned sleep. Harry threw a pillow at Rons curtain. Ron cursed and hauled himself into a sitting position.
“I just- I don’t know, when its convenient.” Ron shrugged uncomfortably at sharing wanking etiquette with his best mate, like it was one of their usual chats about proper broomstick care. “In bathrooms after school… broom cupboards, showers, once by the lake last year…” He stopped as Harry laughed again.
“And here I was thinking I’m an exhibitionist! You randy little sod!” Harry chuckled from his side of the room. Ron fumed and threw himself face first into his pillow. He knew he shouldn’t have told Harry that. Now every time he goes to the bathroom, he’ll have to deal with Harry smirking at him.
Bloody brilliant.
*
Ron avoided Harry’s eye all of next day, leaving Hermione to wonder if the two were having some kind of argument. Harry told her the Chudley Cannons were losing this year (which was perfectly true, although he suspected if it had been a lie Hermione would have been none the wiser) and was in a bad mood with Harry because of it. Hermione accepted it with a roll of her eyes and didn’t question when Ron scooted away from Harry at dinner so that Hermione acted as a barrier between the two of them.
About halfway through the meal, Harry threw down his napkin and rose from the table.
“Harry, where are you going, you’ve hardly eaten!” Hermione clucked crossly, reminding Ron irresistably of his mother.
Harry stood directly behind Ron. “Going to the bathroom.” He said pointedly, digging a finger into Rons shoulder. “And I think I might have left something in a broom cupboard yesterday. I might pop by there.” Ron tensed and Harry smirked. “Then I might try an evening walk by the lake.” Ron bit his lip. Hermione blinked. “And then…” Harry added as an afterthought “I might take a shower.” Ron actually gasped at this. “See you.”
Harry clapped Ron on the back cheerfully and left the Great Hall. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Rons flushed face.
Boys were very odd sometimes.
*
Ron was awake.
Lying, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
There was complete silence in the dorm that night.
It felt alien.
It felt off.
Ron strained to hear the familiar rustling of Harry’s sheets, but doubted after Harry’s eventful evening there would be much rustling tonight. Or any other night from here on.
It felt wrong. Like something was missing.
Ron closed his eyes and imagined the sound, the sound of Harry’s sheets rubbing against each other in the dark, the sound of Harry’s hand sliding gracefully over and over his cock, stopping every now and then to tease himself.
Ron reached down and grasped his cock, shuddering a little as he became very aware of the four sleeping boys around him.
He stroked himself, envisioning Harry’s evening. Had he really tossed off in all of Rons favourite spots? The next time Ron tossed off there, would he be able to smell Harry’s scent?
Ron felt a moan building in his chest and remembered that Harry never liked to be quiet. He let it out, ignoring the start Neville gave. He was really into his masturbation now, trying his hand at the stopping and starting thing. He paused in his wanking and immediately a wave of frustrated agony crashed around his cock, only to be soothed when Ron picked up his rhythm again.
Ron could hear something outside his four-poster, but he didn’t care. He allowed his sheets to make their telltale noises and didn’t try to deny the rhythmic creaking of his bed.
His orgasm started, the intense tingling promising Ron that this one would be intense. Ron knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself crying out. He twisted around and threw his face into his pillow to stifle his shout, but there was a definite noise in the room as Ronald Weasley spilled himself into his fist.
The beating of his blood slowed. Then, carefully, Ron folded himself neatly into his bed, tucking his cock back into their pyjamas and listening carefully into the silence of the room.
“Night Ron.” Harry whispered from his bed.
Ron didn’t jump. “Night Harry.” He whispered with a smile as he sank into his pillow.
Dean, Neville and Seamus all wondered from their own beds if it was too late to be switched dorms.
Rating: N-17 or R. Never fully understood where the line is.
Pairings: Ron/Harry
Disclaimer: I fully wrote harry potter.
Summary: Boys wanking in their school dorms lol. I wrote this quickly, but I would say they'd be about fifteen or sixteen, coz they know about the room of requirement. But this is mostly smutty fluff, not substance. I wrote it at three in the morning when I was bored.
***************************
It is widely assumed that when one attends a boarding school, ones wanking places become severely limited.
This is wrong in the highest degree. In fact, when one attends a boarding school, ones wanking places become amazingly varied.
Ronald Weasley had quite a number of wanking places, more lovingly referred to as ‘toss-off spots’ in his head. The toilets were a convenient enough location, as were the showers. Broom closets were frequently used, as were various empty classrooms. However, Ron had discovered rather angrily that the Room of Requirement would not open for such a need, despite Rons arguments that wanking was indeed a requirement of the most vigorous males (an argument which took place in what he had thought was an empty corridor, only to be proven spectacularly wrong by a group of third year Hufflepuffs, who sniggered as they walked on by).
In fact, the only place Ron never seemed to masturbate was in the comfort of his own bed. Something which, it would seem, he and his best mate did not have in common.
Ron’s eyes snapped open at three o clock in the morning to the sound of frantically rustling fabric. He would recognize the obscene noise anywhere- in school, in church, at his Grandmothers deathbed, ANYWHERE. Wanking. Furious wanking, by the sounds of it. And it was with a jolt of embarrassment when Ron realised from what part of the room the noise was emitting from.
Ron bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut to block out the sound of Harry’s masturbation. They were close, sure, but not that close. He didn’t want to be in the same room as Harry while he was doing something so intimate. Still, Ron reasoned, he was going at it pretty fast and Ron didn’t think he was going to last much longer. One stifled grunt and blissful sigh later and the noises slowed and stopped and Ron clamped a hand over his mouth to contain a relieved ‘thank god!’. Instead, he turned over as Harry’s breathing slowed and deepened into snores and Ron simply hoped he wouldn’t have to hear Harry doing that again anytime soon.
*
Ron was awake.
And annoyed.
Annoyed because he was awake.
And annoyed because he had no idea why he was awake. He lifted his head from his pillow, blearily trying to see in the dark, listening for the noise that had disturbed him from his slumber.
Rustling.
The rustling noise was back.
And it was louder.
Louder and accompanied by heavy panting.
Ron groaned into his pillow and the rustling stopped for a moment before picking up again, increasing in speed. Ron thought about clamping his pillow over his ears, but then he would have no idea of when to take it off.
So he listened.
Ron lay in the dark and listened to his best friends masturbation. It was different from last night. Harder, but not faster. It changed in rhythm and stopped every now and then, accompanied by a stifled groan. Ron considered this for a moment, wondering what kind of gratification Harry was getting out of denying himself pleasure for a moment, only to reward himself seconds later. It must be good, Ron decided as his cock jerked in agreement, because Harry did it quite a lot.
The experimental stopping and starting was replaced by frantic movement and then silence as a hissing sigh sounded from Harry’s bed. Ron leaned back, ready to sleep again but his eyes flew open as he realised with a sick swoop in his gut that he was hard.
Ron peered down his body and saw the familiar tent around his groin waiting expectantly. Ron reached a hand towards his groin and bit his lip, wondering if Harry ever woke anyone else up. A snore from Neville’s bed next to Rons made Ron blush and withdraw his hand quickly. Ron slept, trying not to think about his cock rubbing against the soft cotton of his pyjamas. Or anyone else’s for that matter, Ron told himself sternly as Harry’s snores began to sound.
*
Wanking.
Furious wanking.
The sound of skin on skin filled the room.
Ron stifled a groan and buried his face in his pillow. It was bad enough when Harry did it through his pyjamas, now he had to do it with his bare hand? The noise was unbearable, slick, fluid, familiar sounds reached Ron’s ears causing them to flush red with embarrassment. Ron rolled onto his back and stared up into the roof of his four-poster, waiting for the sound to quicken so that it would all get over and done with.
It was fast and furious and not at all experimental. Ron wondered if Harry was using lube or if he just slicked himself up with precome. The vision swam in front of Ron’s eyes- Harry, sweating, naked, pumping his cock in this very room, at this very second... Ron waved it away with a disgusted facial expression. He didn’t just think about his best friend wanking?
The sound sped up, slick, quick thrusts, Harry’s bed groaning almost as much as Harry himself and then there was the silence, the straining, tense silence which Ron had taken to mean Harry was coming, coming right now, thick pearly ropes streaming from him onto the sheets of his four poster. Visions flashed in Ron’s head- Harry, naked and arranged in various positions on his four-poster as come shot from his fisted cock. Rons prick gave a jolt, and he realised he had broken out in a slight sweat. The noise of a body hitting sheets bought Ron back to reality as he sighed and settled into his own bed, not wanting to delve into any reasons for his arousal. Ron was about to drift of again when…
....wanking.
Slow and deliberate. Oh my god, no way. Harry was starting up again.
“Not again!” Ron groaned without thinking and the slick sounds stopped immediately. Ron froze. Would Harry call him on it?
“Ron?”
Fuck.
“Ron? Are- are you awake?” asked Harry off-handedly.
“Mm.” Was all Ron could reply without his ears shrivelling and falling off in humiliation.
“Were you-? Did you hear… all of that?” Harry asked quietly.
Ron didn’t see any point in lying. He was crap at it anyway. “Yeah.” Ron admitted. In the dark, he could hear Harry wince.
“Sorry.” Harry whispered. Awkward silence. Then “Am I always that loud?”
Again, Ron cursed his inability to lie. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Ron could hear Harry fidgeting uncomfortably. “You never make noise.” Harry remarked casually, as one would comment on the weather or a particularly nice hat. Ron blushed in the dark.
“I don’t do it here.”
Harry laughed and Seamus made a startled noise in his sleep. “Oh, come on Ron, everyone does it its… y'know, one of those things.”
“I don’t do it HERE.” Ron corrected. Harry went silent, as if expecting Ron to elaborate. He didn’t. Harry didn’t give up.
“Where do you do it?” Harry pressed. Ron didn’t answer. Harry asked again. Ron feigned sleep. Harry threw a pillow at Rons curtain. Ron cursed and hauled himself into a sitting position.
“I just- I don’t know, when its convenient.” Ron shrugged uncomfortably at sharing wanking etiquette with his best mate, like it was one of their usual chats about proper broomstick care. “In bathrooms after school… broom cupboards, showers, once by the lake last year…” He stopped as Harry laughed again.
“And here I was thinking I’m an exhibitionist! You randy little sod!” Harry chuckled from his side of the room. Ron fumed and threw himself face first into his pillow. He knew he shouldn’t have told Harry that. Now every time he goes to the bathroom, he’ll have to deal with Harry smirking at him.
Bloody brilliant.
*
Ron avoided Harry’s eye all of next day, leaving Hermione to wonder if the two were having some kind of argument. Harry told her the Chudley Cannons were losing this year (which was perfectly true, although he suspected if it had been a lie Hermione would have been none the wiser) and was in a bad mood with Harry because of it. Hermione accepted it with a roll of her eyes and didn’t question when Ron scooted away from Harry at dinner so that Hermione acted as a barrier between the two of them.
About halfway through the meal, Harry threw down his napkin and rose from the table.
“Harry, where are you going, you’ve hardly eaten!” Hermione clucked crossly, reminding Ron irresistably of his mother.
Harry stood directly behind Ron. “Going to the bathroom.” He said pointedly, digging a finger into Rons shoulder. “And I think I might have left something in a broom cupboard yesterday. I might pop by there.” Ron tensed and Harry smirked. “Then I might try an evening walk by the lake.” Ron bit his lip. Hermione blinked. “And then…” Harry added as an afterthought “I might take a shower.” Ron actually gasped at this. “See you.”
Harry clapped Ron on the back cheerfully and left the Great Hall. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Rons flushed face.
Boys were very odd sometimes.
*
Ron was awake.
Lying, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
There was complete silence in the dorm that night.
It felt alien.
It felt off.
Ron strained to hear the familiar rustling of Harry’s sheets, but doubted after Harry’s eventful evening there would be much rustling tonight. Or any other night from here on.
It felt wrong. Like something was missing.
Ron closed his eyes and imagined the sound, the sound of Harry’s sheets rubbing against each other in the dark, the sound of Harry’s hand sliding gracefully over and over his cock, stopping every now and then to tease himself.
Ron reached down and grasped his cock, shuddering a little as he became very aware of the four sleeping boys around him.
He stroked himself, envisioning Harry’s evening. Had he really tossed off in all of Rons favourite spots? The next time Ron tossed off there, would he be able to smell Harry’s scent?
Ron felt a moan building in his chest and remembered that Harry never liked to be quiet. He let it out, ignoring the start Neville gave. He was really into his masturbation now, trying his hand at the stopping and starting thing. He paused in his wanking and immediately a wave of frustrated agony crashed around his cock, only to be soothed when Ron picked up his rhythm again.
Ron could hear something outside his four-poster, but he didn’t care. He allowed his sheets to make their telltale noises and didn’t try to deny the rhythmic creaking of his bed.
His orgasm started, the intense tingling promising Ron that this one would be intense. Ron knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself crying out. He twisted around and threw his face into his pillow to stifle his shout, but there was a definite noise in the room as Ronald Weasley spilled himself into his fist.
The beating of his blood slowed. Then, carefully, Ron folded himself neatly into his bed, tucking his cock back into their pyjamas and listening carefully into the silence of the room.
“Night Ron.” Harry whispered from his bed.
Ron didn’t jump. “Night Harry.” He whispered with a smile as he sank into his pillow.
Dean, Neville and Seamus all wondered from their own beds if it was too late to be switched dorms.