Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - Part 8

[magicbunbuns]

Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - By Kate's Brain and Magic of Isis



**

It was hard for Harry to imagine that he’d ever feel like having sex again, let alone doing it later this evening. He vaguely watched as Charlie dug through his pocket for the antidote, and Harry swallowed it in one gulp as soon as it was offered. He noticed the turmoil in his stomach stopped immediately, and in less than a minute, he became convinced that it might yet be possible to salvage the night.

Seeing Harry’s obvious relief, Charlie stood up again. “I suppose I’d better offer this to Ron before he pukes his guts out. Good luck tonight.” Charlie paused in the doorway. “Oh, and Harry, if for some reason things don’t work out between you and my brother, you know where to find me. I’m very good at giving comfort.” He waggled his eyebrows for effect.

A wide grin spread across Harry’s face. He had no doubt about that. “Thanks, Charlie, for everything.”

As soon as Charlie had left the room, Harry began rummaging through his bag to find the vial of Anti-Pheromone Potion he’d nicked from George. His stomach was already feeling much better, so he gulped down the potion in one go. It tasted disgusting as usual, and he was glad he’d just taken an antidote for an upset stomach.

Flopping back onto his bed, Harry tried to plan out a seduction scenario in his head, but his thoughts kept being distracted by the foul taste in his mouth. No seduction plan would be successful if the smell of the potion was overpowered by the stench of his breath. Harry wandered down the hall to brush his teeth.

Through the open bathroom door, he spied Ron putting away his toothbrush. Ron glanced up to see him there, and greeted him with a smile.

“Did Charlie give you a potion for your stomach?” Ron asked. Harry nodded. “I feel loads better already. I wonder if it’s too early to eat again.”

Harry panicked. He had to keep Ron from going back downstairs to join the others. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Ron. Charlie told me we’d need to rest for at least an hour. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

“All right,” Ron said as he moved back down the hall to the bedroom.

Ron was already in his bed when Harry entered the room. Harry quickly cast a Locking Spell and then muttered a Silencing Charm.

“I hope you don’t mind that I locked the door,” he said in response to Ron’s surprised expression. “I don’t fancy Hermione coming in here and trying work through all the possible causes of our illness.”

Ron chuckled. “Knowing her, she’d probably try to convince us to puke again so that she could get a better look.”

Harry pulled his jumper over his head and tossed it aside. He then removed his jeans so that he was wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He had to get close to Ron so that he could smell the potion. Crossing the room, Harry sat carefully at the foot of Ron’s bed.

“Ron,” he started, pausing to clear his throat, “since we’re both stuck here for a while, can I ask you something?”

Ron sat up in his bed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Have you ever thought about kissing another boy?”

A blush rose from beneath Ron’s collar all the way up to his ears. “Do you mean any boy, or a particular one?”

“A particular one. Me.”

“I…er…well, maybe… at one point…” Ron looked away from Harry, clearly embarrassed.

Harry reached out to rest his hand on Ron’s. “Because I’ve thought about kissing you a lot. Do you think we could, you know, try it - just to see what it’s like?” Harry was blushing too, and his stomach was doing flips, which he knew had nothing to do with the Skiving Snackbox or the Anti-Pheromone Potion.

Ron hesitated, looking very unsure and nervous. He caught Harry’s eye and slowly nodded. “Just to see what it’s like,” he repeated.

Moving rapidly, before Ron could change his mind, Harry scooted over next to him. He slipped one arm around Ron’s shoulders and used his free hand to guide Ron’s face towards his. When he gently pressed his mouth against Ron’s, Harry could feel Ron’s lower lip quiver.

He broke the kiss. “It’s okay,” Harry murmured. “I’m nervous too.” Ron must have wanted to dispute the assessment that he was nervous, because he boldly captured Harry’s lips again, pulling Harry closer and deepening the kiss.

God, kissing Ron was every bit as wonderful as Harry had imagined it would be, perhaps even better. Ron’s kisses were sloppy and inexperienced, like Neville’s, but Harry didn’t mind because they felt So Damn Good. Harry coaxed Ron’s tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, the way Seamus had done to him. His arm slid down Ron’s back in a gentle caress, while his free hand brushed against the back of Ron’s neck.

Needing air, Ron pushed Harry away. “Bloody hell, Harry. Where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” replied Harry breathlessly.

Harry trailed his tongue along Ron’s jawline, finding the hollow of his neck and sucking hard. Judging from the ensuing moan, Ron wouldn’t mind postponing that conversation until another time. Ron placed a tentative hand on Harry’s chest and began to move it slowly as Harry laved his throat. As his fingers drifted towards Harry’s waist, Ron’s wrist brushed the tip of Harry’s erection, which was peeking out of the gap in his boxers. Ron froze.

Harry raised his head to find Ron’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Ron swallowed. “You’re…um…hard.”

A grin played at the corners of Harry’s mouth. Ron’s lap was hidden under the covers, but Harry would have bet a thousand galleons that Ron was hard, too. Harry pressed his hand down over the spot where he supposed Ron’s erection was hiding, and Ron gasped. Oh, yeah, definitely hard.

“So are you. Does it freak you out?”

“I don’t know - maybe. I-I’m not gay,” stammered Ron.

Harry shrugged. “Do you have to limit yourself? Maybe you’re bi.” He was about to compare Ron to his brother Bill, but fortunately, Harry’s brain clamped his mouth shut just in time. “All I know is that you feel amazing, and I’d really like to know what it’s like to touch you all over.”

Upon hearing Harry’s words, Ron’s prick twitched so much that it moved the covers. “Harry, I…” His voice trailed off as Harry rubbed his cock through the sheets.

“Ron, we can stop this anytime you want. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.” In Harry’s mind, the only thing that made this promise possible was the knowledge that Charlie was close-by and willing to help him out if necessary. But knowing the effects of the potion, Harry really didn’t think it would be an issue.

Ron’s reply came out more forceful than Harry had expected. “No! Don’t stop. I…I like it.”

Harry stared at him for a moment, uncertain whether it was Ron or his hormones speaking. He was surprised to notice that it made a difference to him; he wasn’t doing this just to have sex with Ron. He wanted it to be the start of something much more important, and he wanted Ron to feel the same way, too. As he searched Ron’s eyes, he saw something there - something deeper than lust, and it propelled him on to the next step.

Reaching down to grasp the hem of Ron’s pyjama top, Harry pulled it briskly over Ron’s head in one smooth motion and then threw it on the floor. The newly exposed skin was silky soft beneath Harry’s fingertips, with just a hint of gooseflesh on his lower arms. Harry laid a trail of kisses from Ron’s mouth down to his navel and then back up to his chest. He worried Ron’s nipple with the tip of his tongue until Ron let out a stifled moan.

Ron reached down to pull Harry’s face to his lips and proceeded to snog him senseless, fully immersing himself in the experience. He wrapped his arms around Harry and slid his hands beneath Harry’s t-shirt, pulling it up as his fingers explored the Quidditch-toned muscles of Harry’s back.

Irritated by the fabric constraining him, Harry tried to whip off his t-shirt, only to have it snag on his glasses. He pulled those off as well, dropping them carelessly on the floor as he hurried to get back to Ron’s lips. Harry wanted him so much that he briefly considered the possibility that Ron had taken the Anti-Pheromone potion instead of him.

Harry slid under the covers, pressing against Ron and propping himself up with one elbow. He could feel the heat radiating off Ron’s skin where it touched his. “Is this all right?” he asked before leaning over to latch on to a spot just under Ron’s left earlobe.

“Harry...” Ron’s voice trailed off, and Harry took that to be a yes.

The way Harry figured it, he had one shot to make Ron fall for him as hard as he’d fallen for Ron; this was his last vial of potion, and it didn’t sound as if Fred and George had plans to give him any more. He needed to make it so good for Ron that he wouldn’t be able to think about sex without thinking about Harry. He raced through his memories, trying to choose those things that had turned him on the most. Since they didn’t have an audience, he’d have to start with a blowjob.

He raised his head to look Ron in the eye again. “Can I try something that I think you’ll really like?”

“What.”

“I want to suck you off.”

Ron’s eyes became as big as galleons, and he hesitantly said, “Okay.”

Harry began by kissing his way down Ron’s chest. Reaching up, Harry ran the palm of his hand across one of Ron’s erect nipples before catching it between his finger and thumb to tweak it a little harder. He explored Ron’s belly button with his tongue and placed open-mouthed kisses along the trail of dark red hair that disappeared under the waistband of Ron’s pyjamas. Harry swiped his tongue under the material before using his hands to stretch the elastic over Ron’s straining cock and push his pyjama pants down and off.

“God, you look fantastic,” muttered Harry as he perused the length of Ron’s body. His skin was slightly ruddy, with a smattering of freckles across the shoulders and considerably more on his arms. His shoulders and chest were broad and muscular, the result of hours of weight training and Quidditch practice. His cock, dark and reddened with excitement, lay nearly flat against his abdomen. Harry licked his lips when he saw it.

Harry raised himself onto his knees and leaned forward to ravage Ron’s mouth once more. Then he settled between Ron’s parted thighs, bending just low enough to slide the flat part of his tongue along the tip of Ron’s cock. It jerked at the sensation, and Harry heard a low moan escape from Ron’s mouth. He crouched lower, this time running the tip of his tongue along the shaft, and swirling it around the head several times. The salty, bitter taste of pre-come filled Harry’s mouth as he sucked, Ron getting harder with each trip of Harry’s lips up and down the length. Harry slid one hand under each thigh, coaxing Ron to bend his knees. When he did so, Harry was able to glide his fingertips across Ron’s arse and gently squeeze his sac.

Ron was panting now, having nearly come undone by the enthusiastic assault on his senses. Each exhale of breath was accompanied by a simpering moan, and his body was writhing of its own accord. He spread his legs farther apart, encouraging Harry to take more. Ron’s hips thrust forward, and he was unable to keep himself from holding Harry’s head while fucking his willing mouth with wild abandon.

“Fuck, Harry, I…” Ron wailed, but he couldn’t hold back long enough to get his warning out. He shot wave after wave down Harry’s throat and dissolved into a quivering mess.

Harry held on as Ron rode through his aftershocks, thrilled that he’d been able to cause him to shatter like that and grateful that he hadn’t gagged in the process. When the last of Ron’s tremors had passed, Harry kissed his way back to Ron’s mouth, wanting him to taste his own essence.

When he stretched out over Ron, Harry couldn’t help but roll his hips against Ron’s. He was aching for release now; the experience of pleasuring Ron had made him impossibly hard. The front of his boxers was soaked at the spot where the tip of his cock had been leaking copious amounts of pre-come.

Ron wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him close. He slid one hand underneath the waistband of Harry’s boxers, blindly groping his bare arse. They both smiled when their eyes met.

“You enjoyed that?” Harry asked smugly.

“Bloody brilliant you are.” Ron looked like he wanted to say something else, but Harry didn’t press him. After a few more kisses he said, “Er, Harry, if you want, I guess I could, you know, do that to you.”

Harry’s prick jumped, eagerly agreeing with Ron’s suggestion, but Harry had something else in mind. He was nervous about bringing this up, but being a Gryffindor, he plunged right in anyway.

“Ron, do you trust me?”

Ron furrowed his brows. “Of course I do. I trust you with my life - you know that.”

“Then let me shag you. I-I know the idea of it is a bit intimidating at first, but it’s amazing. Really.” He worried his lower lip as he tried to read Ron’s expressionless face.

“I knew you’d done it,” said Ron tersely. A fiery spark danced in Ron’s eyes that looked to Harry more like jealousy than curiosity, and he thought for a moment that Ron was going to ask who he’d done it with. When Ron didn’t, Harry kissed him again, hoping to convince him that no one else mattered.

“I don’t even know what to do,” whispered Ron.

Choosing to take this as a qualified yes, Harry couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face. “All you need to do is tell me if I’m hurting you - I’ll do the rest.”

“And you’ll stop if it hurts too much?”

“I promise.”

Ron’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Harry saw it and immediately sprang into action. He rolled out of the bed and frantically searched for his wand, finally locating it in the pocket of his discarded jeans. He yanked off his underwear and returned to Ron’s bed only to find Ron nervously eyeing his cock.

“I promise,” Harry repeated firmly. “But it will be easier if you try to relax.”

He bent Ron’s knees and spread his legs further apart. Then he cast the lube spell and slathered as much on his fingers as he could. With a nod from Ron, Harry slowly worked a finger into his entrance. If he could just get far enough in to find that spot…

Ron’s eyes were narrowed as Harry’s digit breached his hole, a pained expression on his face. But then Harry brushed up against his prostate and a loud, low groan escaped from his lips. Harry rubbed it a second time and Ron shuddered.

“Do that again,” Ron croaked.

Harry wiggled his finger several times and was able to tell by the look on Ron’s face every time he touched Ron’s sensitive gland. He slid another finger inside and began to move the two in tandem, slowly thrusting them in and out, and taking care to rub the prostate.

“Fuck, that’s good,” gasped Ron.

Harry continued to stretch him until his fingers began to cramp and he was aching with the need to come. As he slowly eased his cock inside, he watched Ron’s face for signs of distress. Harry stilled for a moment, trying like hell not to come instantaneously. Ron was so tight around him, like Neville had been, but Harry was determined to last long enough to make this good for Ron, too. With a slight tilt of his hips, Harry began to move.

Ron hooked his ankles around Harry’s back as Harry drove into him, a little harder with each thrust. Harry tried to control his movement enough to catch Ron’s prostate, but as he got closer to his orgasm, Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head and he could think of nothing but his need for release. With a muffled cry, he spilled deep inside of Ron.

Sweaty and sticky and spent, Harry collapsed on Ron, still reeling from the effects of his release. He’d had a fair amount of sex, but it had never before felt like his orgasm had been ripped from his body. As soon as he could muster the energy, Harry shifted so that he could cuddle with Ron more comfortably. If sex had been as good for Ron as it had been for him, he thought, then this would definitely be the first time of many.

**

With one hand around his cock, he guided it to Ron’s opening and thrust inside with one fluid movement. There was an audible gasp as he began to move, rocking back and forth while tangling his fingers in Ron’s long wavy hair. He looked up, smiling to the audience; Sirius, Remus, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Fred, Blaise - they were all there, cheering him on as they wanked…

Ron jostled the bed and Harry awoke with a start, breathing heavily and sporting a sizable morning erection. He was disoriented from his dream, and he looked around, only to realize that he was not in his own bed, but Ron’s. So it wasn’t a dream, after all. He and Ron had shagged, and it had been every bit as wonderful as Harry imagined it would be. He couldn’t believe it had finally happened; falling asleep in Ron’s arms seemed so normal - so right. It didn’t matter to Harry anymore that there was no more potion. After taking their friendship to this new level, Harry knew it was no longer needed. He and Ron were together now.

Harry saw Ron looking at him and smiled. “Morning.”

“You should probably go back to your bed so that it looks like you slept in it,” Ron said coldly.

Harry blinked twice. Hadn’t they spent the previous night having the most incredible sex? He breathed in deeply - yes, that was definitely the smell of sex. But there was no ‘Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep well?’ only ‘Get the hell out of my bed.’ Harry’s stomach sank as he realized that, with the potion now worn off, Ron was probably regretting that he ever let Harry shag him. He sought out Ron’s eyes, seeing only a frosty stare where there had been true affection the night before. Damn.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry said quietly, “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He got out of bed, nearly stepping on his glasses as he did so. Keenly aware of his wilting erection, he hurried to find his underwear and t-shirt, hastily pulling them on before crawling into the other bed. He could feel Ron’s eyes on him, and Harry thought he should say something, but he didn’t really know what.

Almost as soon as Harry left the bed, Ron got up as well and pulled on his dressing gown. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said gruffly. “See you at breakfast.” He yanked at the door handle, evidently trying to leave in a hurry, but it was still charmed shut, which made leaving a problem. Ron scooped Harry’s wand from the floor and tossed it to him. “Would you mind ending the charm?”

Harry ended the spell, and Ron bolted through the door, almost as if being in the same room as Harry was painful for him. God, how had he managed to screw this up so badly? After last night, which was - in Harry’s estimation - one of the best nights of his entire life, it was devastating to think that Ron didn’t want him after all.

**

At breakfast, Ron sat as far away from Harry as he could. Their eyes met a couple of times, but all Harry received in exchange for his smile was a cold glare. The tension in the room was noticeable to Hermione, who kept looking from Harry to Ron and back again, wanting to ask what was wrong but afraid of getting stuck in the middle of whatever it was they were fighting about this time. Ron wolfed down his food and promptly left the room. Harry followed, leaving behind his half-eaten breakfast.

“Ron, we need to talk about last night,” Harry said, following Ron into his bedroom. “It’s obviously got you very upset.”

“What makes you think I’m upset?” asked Ron defensively. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Well then, why do I get the impression you’re about to bite my head off?”

“Give it a rest, Harry. Not everything is about you. I’m just a bit angry with myself.”

Harry’s eyes locked on Ron’s. So he was upset. He’d wanted to stop, but the potion made him do something he didn’t want to do, and he’d been powerless against its effects. He was angry because he wasn’t able to say no. Harry felt horrible, both for taking the potion in the first place and also for not stopping even though he’d had doubts about whether Ron really wanted him.

“Look, Ron, you’re still my best mate. If it makes you feel better, we can forget all about last night - pretend it never happened. I’ll never lay another hand on you, I swear.”

Harry could tell by the look in Ron’s eyes that his offer had not given Ron the comfort he’d intended. But he didn’t really know what else to do - he couldn’t take back what happened, and he didn’t want to. He cursed Fred and George under his breath for ever giving him the potion.

“Oh, that’s just rich. It’s not even nine o’clock yet.” And with that obtuse comment, Ron stormed out of the room.

Continue to Part 9