A Gift for secretlypadfoot: The Promise of Ruin (Ron/Draco, R)
Author: bluemermaid
Recipient: secretlypadfoot
Title: The Promise of Ruin
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Rating: R for naughty words and references.
Word Count: 970
Summary: Maybe it was because it had been several months since he'd seen Malfoy; maybe it was because it was New Year's Eve with its promises of fresh starts and the glittering allure of everything new. Or maybe Ron was just drunk off his arse and horny as a lonely teenage boy.
Author's Notes: I do hope you enjoy this, secretlypadfoot!
Ron caught sight of Draco across the room and it was like a charm hitting him directly in the heart. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the look of Draco, so put-together and handsome, so haughty. Ron wanted to knock that haughtiness down a peg; he wanted to ruin that togetherness.
Maybe it was because it had been several months since he'd seen Malfoy; maybe it was because it was New Year's Eve with its promises of fresh starts and the glittering allure of everything new. Or maybe Ron was just drunk off his arse and horny as a lonely teenage boy. He would never admit to such a thing. But Ron Weasley hadn't entirely grown up.
He spotted Draco across the room and made his move, stalking his prey through the crowd of oblivious onlookers, enthusiastic revelers and innocent bystanders. One of these was Hermione Granger, whose eyes widened at the sight of Ron. She put a hand on his arm, gripped him tightly and leaned in close. "Don't you dare," she hissed shrilly.
"Shove off, Hermione," Ron replied, barely meeting her gaze, shrugging her off and stumbling away from his old flame. It wasn't that he didn't like Hermione; in fact he was rather fond of her still, even after all this time. She was just so pushy sometimes. Ron didn't want to be pushed; he wanted to do the pushing.
Draco didn't see him coming until the last second; he was talking to some witch Ron didn't recognize, a pretty little thing with perfectly curled hair. Ron hated her on sight. "Malfoy," he sneered, startling Draco with a firm hand on his back. "Didn't know they let Death Eater riff-raff into the party."
"Well, if the dirty and destitute are here, I suppose they'd let anyone in," Draco said, looking Ron up and down slowly, his eyes small and irritated. His lips twitched; Ron had the sudden urge to bite them.
"You can't stand it, can you, Malfoy?" Ron asked, moving in ever closer. He could smell Draco, could feel his body heat, and his blood pressure rose, his heart pounding in his ears. "I've finally got more money than you and it makes you sick."
It was lies, every syllable, because Ron could do an interview and arrest a Dark wizard every day for the rest of his life and still not have enough Galleons to match up to the old Malfoy vaults. But the remark did what it was supposed to do: Draco turned away from his date and stared hard at Ron, squaring his shoulders. "I ought to hex you across the room," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You're lucky I've got more class in my little finger than you have in your entire thick head."
"Those are fighting words, Malfoy," Ron replied, grinning, and thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was taller than Draco, could literally look down upon him in a way that Malfoy could never do to him. "What do you say we get out of this crowded party and settle things like men?"
"And lower myself to your standards? Never. Go home, Weasley." Draco made to step away.
Ron grabbed his arm, yanked Draco back towards him, rage boiling like a sudden explosion in his chest. "No," he said firmly. "You don't walk away from this."
"Draco," a small voice pleaded, a female, but Ron ignored her, did not even look in the girl's direction. Instead he dragged Draco back through the crowd, the two of them maintaining eye contact, Draco unable to protest as he reluctantly allowed Ron to lead him, to take him out back, to get him alone.
They stared at one another, breathing heavily, fingers twitching into fists, their eyes burning, and then Ron stepped forward and took Draco's face in his hands, pulling him in for a kiss that was so desperate it ached. Draco made a muffled sound at the back of his throat but he kissed back, put a hand upon Ron's chest and curled his fingers into Ron's shirt, gripping him tightly.
Ron pulled back and smirked. "You were practically begging for that," he said softly.
"Not likely," Draco replied with a snort. "You're the one who came sauntering up to me like a pathetic former lover, begging for me to come outside with you. I merely agreed to keep you away from my dear friend Astoria. She's quite sensitive and I'd hate for her to have to see your animal brutality."
"You bloody love my brutality, though. Admit it," Ron said.
Draco pursed his lips. Of course he wanted to protest, to say that he hated being pulled around by Ron Weasley, hated being dominated by a "blood traitor," hated being so attracted to him, hated the way his heart raced at the feel of a Weasley against his body, hated the way he simpered and mewled whenever Ron touched his cock -
Ron saw all of this in a single beat, a single flutter of Draco's lashes, a single swallow down his delectable throat. Malfoy had always wanted to say no to Ron, but he never really could.
They both looked down at Draco's fingers, still clutching Ron's shirt. Ron grinned. "You missed me," he said.
They hadn't been together in months, and Ron had almost forgotten the heady rush of domination it had given him, fucking Malfoy. Had until seeing Draco across a crowded room, at a sparkly New Year's party.
Draco pouted. "You wish," he said, but did not sound the least bit convincing.
"It's almost midnight," Ron replied.
"Fuck you, Weasley," Draco said.
He still kissed Ron when the clock struck, giving Ron that feeling of victory he so relished, the knowledge that he was about to ruin Draco Malfoy's elegance once again.
Recipient: secretlypadfoot
Title: The Promise of Ruin
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Rating: R for naughty words and references.
Word Count: 970
Summary: Maybe it was because it had been several months since he'd seen Malfoy; maybe it was because it was New Year's Eve with its promises of fresh starts and the glittering allure of everything new. Or maybe Ron was just drunk off his arse and horny as a lonely teenage boy.
Author's Notes: I do hope you enjoy this, secretlypadfoot!
Ron caught sight of Draco across the room and it was like a charm hitting him directly in the heart. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the look of Draco, so put-together and handsome, so haughty. Ron wanted to knock that haughtiness down a peg; he wanted to ruin that togetherness.
Maybe it was because it had been several months since he'd seen Malfoy; maybe it was because it was New Year's Eve with its promises of fresh starts and the glittering allure of everything new. Or maybe Ron was just drunk off his arse and horny as a lonely teenage boy. He would never admit to such a thing. But Ron Weasley hadn't entirely grown up.
He spotted Draco across the room and made his move, stalking his prey through the crowd of oblivious onlookers, enthusiastic revelers and innocent bystanders. One of these was Hermione Granger, whose eyes widened at the sight of Ron. She put a hand on his arm, gripped him tightly and leaned in close. "Don't you dare," she hissed shrilly.
"Shove off, Hermione," Ron replied, barely meeting her gaze, shrugging her off and stumbling away from his old flame. It wasn't that he didn't like Hermione; in fact he was rather fond of her still, even after all this time. She was just so pushy sometimes. Ron didn't want to be pushed; he wanted to do the pushing.
Draco didn't see him coming until the last second; he was talking to some witch Ron didn't recognize, a pretty little thing with perfectly curled hair. Ron hated her on sight. "Malfoy," he sneered, startling Draco with a firm hand on his back. "Didn't know they let Death Eater riff-raff into the party."
"Well, if the dirty and destitute are here, I suppose they'd let anyone in," Draco said, looking Ron up and down slowly, his eyes small and irritated. His lips twitched; Ron had the sudden urge to bite them.
"You can't stand it, can you, Malfoy?" Ron asked, moving in ever closer. He could smell Draco, could feel his body heat, and his blood pressure rose, his heart pounding in his ears. "I've finally got more money than you and it makes you sick."
It was lies, every syllable, because Ron could do an interview and arrest a Dark wizard every day for the rest of his life and still not have enough Galleons to match up to the old Malfoy vaults. But the remark did what it was supposed to do: Draco turned away from his date and stared hard at Ron, squaring his shoulders. "I ought to hex you across the room," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You're lucky I've got more class in my little finger than you have in your entire thick head."
"Those are fighting words, Malfoy," Ron replied, grinning, and thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was taller than Draco, could literally look down upon him in a way that Malfoy could never do to him. "What do you say we get out of this crowded party and settle things like men?"
"And lower myself to your standards? Never. Go home, Weasley." Draco made to step away.
Ron grabbed his arm, yanked Draco back towards him, rage boiling like a sudden explosion in his chest. "No," he said firmly. "You don't walk away from this."
"Draco," a small voice pleaded, a female, but Ron ignored her, did not even look in the girl's direction. Instead he dragged Draco back through the crowd, the two of them maintaining eye contact, Draco unable to protest as he reluctantly allowed Ron to lead him, to take him out back, to get him alone.
They stared at one another, breathing heavily, fingers twitching into fists, their eyes burning, and then Ron stepped forward and took Draco's face in his hands, pulling him in for a kiss that was so desperate it ached. Draco made a muffled sound at the back of his throat but he kissed back, put a hand upon Ron's chest and curled his fingers into Ron's shirt, gripping him tightly.
Ron pulled back and smirked. "You were practically begging for that," he said softly.
"Not likely," Draco replied with a snort. "You're the one who came sauntering up to me like a pathetic former lover, begging for me to come outside with you. I merely agreed to keep you away from my dear friend Astoria. She's quite sensitive and I'd hate for her to have to see your animal brutality."
"You bloody love my brutality, though. Admit it," Ron said.
Draco pursed his lips. Of course he wanted to protest, to say that he hated being pulled around by Ron Weasley, hated being dominated by a "blood traitor," hated being so attracted to him, hated the way his heart raced at the feel of a Weasley against his body, hated the way he simpered and mewled whenever Ron touched his cock -
Ron saw all of this in a single beat, a single flutter of Draco's lashes, a single swallow down his delectable throat. Malfoy had always wanted to say no to Ron, but he never really could.
They both looked down at Draco's fingers, still clutching Ron's shirt. Ron grinned. "You missed me," he said.
They hadn't been together in months, and Ron had almost forgotten the heady rush of domination it had given him, fucking Malfoy. Had until seeing Draco across a crowded room, at a sparkly New Year's party.
Draco pouted. "You wish," he said, but did not sound the least bit convincing.
"It's almost midnight," Ron replied.
"Fuck you, Weasley," Draco said.
He still kissed Ron when the clock struck, giving Ron that feeling of victory he so relished, the knowledge that he was about to ruin Draco Malfoy's elegance once again.