FIC: The Cat's the Thing
Title: The Cat's The Thing
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It all starts with a cat, and ends with a kiss. It's the in between that counts.
Disclaimer: Not mine. All for fun. No harm intended, and I give them back in almost the same conditioned I borrowed them in.
Warnings: Nothing major. Demon devil cats?
Author's Note: Originally written for the fabulous bestmates_xmas exchange for the lovely ella_bane. Thanks to brumeux77 for the fantastic beta!
It all started innocently enough. All he wanted was to find the cat, eat some dinner and go to bed. Of course, nothing in his life since getting the cat had been that simple.
That damned cat. Ever since it had shown up at their door and Harry had started feeding it, it had done nothing but make Ron's life miserable. Pissed in his shoes, shredded his socks and left dead mice in his bed. Hermione said it did those things because it had chosen Ron as its owner. Ron was pretty much dead certain that the cat did these things because it was some kind of demon.
Today, as he had most days for the last month, Ron had come home after his shift at the Ministry and been met with the sound of the little black kitten crying pitifully. The flat he shared with Harry was small, but the cat had a penchant for getting into ridiculous spots and then not being able to get out again. Either that or he just enjoyed making Ron search for an hour having to listen to its cries. Damn cat. The cat was finally found in Harry's room, on the top shelf of his cupboard tucked in a box. Sighing, Ron took the box down and out jumped the cat.
That, in and of itself, wouldn't have been a problem. However, he'd chanced a glance down and been so startled by what was in the box, that he'd dropped it and its contents, magazines spilling over the floor, the graphic images burned into his retinas. Men writhed on the cover of the magazines, mouths opened in silent moans. There were no women, just men, and Ron suddenly realized that somehow he'd missed something rather important about his best mate.
Harry was gay.
Harry was gay, and hadn't told him. That, more than anything, was what kept Ron frozen, staring down at the images in disbelief. Surely if Harry had discovered something this huge about himself, he'd have told Ron. Ron who had dated Justin after Hermione, and Blaise after Susan. Maybe the discovery was new, but a closer look at the magazines showed that some were from years ago
So no, Harry was gay, or bisexual, and hadn't bothered to tell Ron for some reason he was sure made sense to Harry. Of course, Harry's reasons for keeping things to himself rarely made sense to anyone else, and Ron had never been one to let things fester. Well, not too long. And nothing this important.
He neatly put the magazines in the box and set the box on the shelf. Harry would be home soon, and it was Ron's night to get dinner. Which meant he had to go out for take away, as Ron and the kitchen didn't get along. Harry was a better cook, but they ended up eating take away four nights out of seven, and at the Leaky at least another two. It was rather more expensive, but at least they hadn't melted their kitchen in six months.
Getting take away gave him time to think through what he'd found out, and come up with a way to bring it into conversation. He wondered if he should actually thank Cuddles--and they had Teddy to thank for that, but at least it was better than Crookshanks--for hiding in Harry's cupboard to begin with. After all, if he hadn't Ron wouldn't have found the magazines, and who knew how long Harry planned to not say anything.
Harry was home by the time he returned with the curry, looking tired but satisfied, and was tossing a ball of yarn across the living room for Cuddles. They were trying to teach him to play fetch, which mostly consisted of Harry or Ron throwing something and Cuddles staring at them until they fetched it. At least it worked for one of the males in the flat, even if it was neither Harry or Ron.
"Have a good day?" Ron set the containers in the kitchen and took out plates and cutlery.
"It was an undercover assignment with Susan and Malfoy. How do you think my day was?"
Ron winced, and headed into the living room with two plates floating in front of him and a couple bottles of butterbeer. They had a kitchen table, but they hardly ever used it for eating. Most of the time it was covered in their work files.
"Still fighting are they?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. If I have to sit through one more of their lover's spats, I think I'm going to drop out of training all together. They're worse than you and Hermione ever were." He shuddered. "Never again, Ron. Never again."
Ron laughed, because they both knew that neither vow was true. Harry could no more stop being an Auror than he could stop being Harry Potter. And that meant he would do what he had to do to get through training, even if it meant putting up with Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy's lover's spats, or anything else that came up in the line of duty.
"Sorry about your life, Harry," Ron teased. "Neville and I had an interesting time at least. We got to interview Luna today. The Quibbler was broken into last night, and the thieves got away with her dad's latest research on the whereabouts of the Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks." Ron grinned fondly, eyes alight with amusement. "They also made off with a bag of galleons and several artifacts of unknown origin and value. But Luna was, of course, most concerned with the research."
Harry laughed, and grinned. "Wish I'd gone with you then. Teach me to think a raid on Knockturn would be more exciting. All we found were some ground up dung beetles. They'd managed to clean everything else out in time." He sighed, and shrugged. "Of course, our inside source turned out to be Mundungus Fletcher, so there might have only been ground up dung beetles to begin with."
Ron reached out and patted Harry's shoulder, thinking that he really did enjoy their after work chats. Especially when they hadn't been assigned to work the same cases. But, he was slightly distracted tonight by the giant purple elephant in the room, even if Harry was unaware that Ron was aware of it.
"So, when were you going to tell me?" He blurted it out in true Ron fashion. He'd never been one to wait around for a perfect time to bring up a sensitive subject. He'd found it worked much better just forging on ahead, and dealing with the consequences later.
"Tell you what?" Harry's brow was furrowed in confusion, and Ron was startled--for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening--at how adorable it was. He was pretty sure Harry hadn't been adorable that morning, or yesterday, or last week. It was as if his discovery had switched on the Harry is fit and attractive and available button in his head, now that he knew Harry liked blokes at least as well as girls.
"That you were gay."
Harry's mouth dropped open, a soundless gasp escaping him. "What? I…I'm not…"
"Harry, I found the magazines. Cuddles was trapped in your cupboard and the box fell down. It's okay. Did you think I wouldn't understand?" He shrugged, unconcerned with that really. All that mattered was that he knew now. "So, now that I know, what do you think of Williamson's arse?"
Harry blinked at him, and didn't even notice Cuddles as he delicately helped himself to a piece of chicken. Ron was really not cleaning it up later, when the cat got sick on the hearth.
"Ron, this isn't a joke." Harry's voice was furious, his cheeks red with temper. "It's…it's not blokes in general. It's one bloke, in particular."
It was Ron's turn to blink, and look at Harry in confusion. Harry was refusing to look at him though, and never let it be said that Ron wasn't quick on the uptake, when said uptake was all but punching him in the face.
"You're in love with Malfoy!" It all made sense now, why Harry found it so difficult to work with Draco and Susan. He was jealous! And, he realized, he was jealous that Harry was jealous. It was a never ending cycle of jealousy.
"For fuck's sake, Ron, you really are an idiot for someone who is so brilliant with deductive reasoning." Harry didn't sound angry anymore, just exasperated and maybe a little bit amused. "It's not Malfoy, you prat. It's you."
"Me? What do you mean, it's me?" Ron's brain wasn't quite keeping up with the conversation, even though every instinct was telling him to stop talking and start snogging.
"I mean, I love you. I mean I want to suck your cock. I mean I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night." Harry ran a hand through his hair and finally met Ron's eyes. "I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to fuck everything up."
For a long moment Ron couldn't say anything. Harry loved him. As in, loved him like his mum loved his dad. Like Bill loved Fleur. Like George loved his shop. Okay, maybe not that last one, but the other two metaphors stood.
"I'm sorry, Ron. This is why I didn't want to tell you." Harry banished his plate to the kitchen, and started to stand. "I didn't want things to be weird. You're my best mate, and I don't want to lose that."
Ron stood as well, unable to look away from Harry. His brain was still catching up with the conversation, and Harry was already across the room when Ron regained the power of coherent sentences.
"But that's brilliant!" He was smiling now, beaming at Harry as he crossed the room.
"Ron, this isn't a joke. I don't know what you're--" Harry broke off as Ron reached for him, tugging him close and up into a kiss.
"It's brilliant. You're brilliant. We're brilliant." Ron was babbling but he didn't care. Harry felt right in his arms, and he was so stupid for not ever having considered this before. This was why none of his other relationships had worked out, because he'd already been in one with Harry. He just hadn't known it yet.
"Sometimes I take a long time to catch up to what's right. You should know that about me by now." Ron laughed, pulling Harry closer, one hand on the back of his neck, the other low on his back. "Emotional depth of a teaspoon, remember?"
Harry laughed and finally relaxed into the hug. "I didn't think you thought of me that way. You never let on."
"I didn't let myself. You were Harry, my best mate who dated girls. I didn't want things to get weird."
Harry laughed again, and kissed the side of Ron's jaw, tongue rasping against the stubble. "Okay, so we're both prats."
"That's what make us a good match." Ron leaned down for a kiss, taking it deeper this time. The first touch of their tongues together sent sparks down his spine, and he couldn't remember a time he'd been so affected by a simple kiss. Probably not since Hermione. And even then, it had been as much adrenalin as the kiss itself that had had his heart racing.
"You get ridiculously sappy when you're in a relationship. If you ever buy me flowers, I am going to hex you," Harry said as he placed kisses across Ron's cheeks, tongue tracing along the freckles there.
"No flowers. Got it. Shagging now?" Ron's fingers wove in and out of Harry's hair, tugging his head back gently so he could place biting kisses along Harry's neck. He didn't think they needed to talk any more. They'd always been better at acting rather than talking.
Harry moaned as Ron found a sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear, and Ron could feel the hard line of Harry's cock pressing against him. "Yeah, shagging sounds good."
"Bloody brilliant." And this was why he loved blokes, they didn't need the same sort of declarations and foreplay women did. And Hermione might call that sexist of him, but in Ron's experience it was absolutely tru. He groped for his wand and with a quick spell they were both naked. "I fucking love being a wizard."
They stumbled down the hall, crashing into walls and pausing every now and then for a snog. Ron couldn't get enough of Harry's lips, or his tongue, neck or ears. He was fabulously responsive, and Ron quickly found that if he sucked the lobe of Harry's ear into his mouth, Harry's cock would literally jump. Finding out these little details was quickly becoming his favorite activity.
As soon as they reached a bedroom--Ron wasn't sure at the moment if it was his or Harry's--they tumbled into bed, rolling across the sheets until finally Ron was braced over Harry. He was suddenly nervous, and his hands were shaking a bit as he brushed a piece of hair off Harry's forehead. "Have you done this before?"
"Not with a bloke." Harry's lips were plump and red, eyes nearly black and cock hard and insistent against Ron's stomach. "Went to a club once, but couldn't bring myself to go home with anyone."
"Right then. Let's get this first one out of the way, shall we?"
"What--"
Once again, Harry broke off on a moan as Ron kissed him, working his way down his chest. He experimentally bit Harry's nipple, delighting in the way Harry nearly threw him off the bed in reaction. He catalogued the response for later, and kept moving downwards. Harry's navel was also especially sensitive he found as he flicked his tongue inside, fucking it slowly.
"Fuck, Ron. Please." Harry was braced on his elbows, staring down at Ron with fever-bright eyes.
Ron grinned and moved lower, trailing wet kisses across Harry's hipbones. Harry moved restlessly against the sheets, long slender fingers pressed into Ron's skin, leaving half-moon marks on pale skin. Ron felt Harry's cock against his cheek, leaving a sticky trace of precum in its wake. He turned his head and licked a long stripe across the tip, and Harry shouted, clutching Ron's shoulders almost painfully.
"Fuck, Ron, stop teasing! Suck my cock," Harry ordered, voice raspy with held-back moans.
"Bossy," Ron said, drawing back and grinning up at Harry wickedly. "But since you're going to come at least twice tonight, I can be generous the first time."
Without another word, Ron leaned forward and took Harry into his mouth. He didn't waste time teasing now, just slid his lips down Harry's cock until the head hit the back of his throat. How to breathe through his nose was a talent he'd learned from Justin, and he put it to good use now, swallowing around Harry's cock. Harry shouted, and arched off the bed, forcing his cock deeper into Ron's mouth as he came. Ron kept sucking until Harry pushed weakly at his shoulders, and drew back with a smug grin.
Harry looked wrecked, panting against the pillows with his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breath, and Ron couldn't help but lean forward for a kiss. Harry's arms went around him, petting him weakly.
"Brill'nt," he slurred, legs moving restless against Ron's. His cock was starting to rise again, and Ron had never been so grateful to be twenty-one. Recovery time at their age was next to nothing. Harry was right, it was brilliant.
Ron wandlessly summoned his favorite lube from the bedside table. That was when he realized they were in Harry's room, as he was nearly hit in the head with the tube when it came crashing in through the door. He managed to catch it at the last minute, setting it down on the bed beside them.
"You're going to love this, Harry." Ron moved so he was straddling Harry's thighs, and grinned brightly down at him. "You're going to love this so much." He reached for the lube, popping up the cap and pouring a generous amount over his fingers.
"Ron…I've never…" Harry bit his lip, eyes looking a bit uncertain now and Ron couldn't help but lean down for a kiss as he reached back.
"It's not for you. Not yet," he whispered as he started to fuck himself open. He braced one hand on Harry's chest as he worked two fingers inside himself. The first initial burn was always the worst, but as he slowly spread his fingers apart it got better. And it was all leading up to the main event, which was going to be brilliant. His mouth dropped open as he moved back against his hand, cock dragging along Harry's stomach.
Harry's eyes were wide, seemingly torn between watching Ron's face and peering down between their bodies where Ron was fingering himself open for Harry's cock.
"Fuck, that's hot." Harry sat up a bit more, one hand low on Ron's stomach, knuckles just brushing Ron's erection. "Love you."
"Harry." It was all he could manage at the moment, twisting his fingers once more, his cock now leaking a steady stream of precum onto Harry's stomach. Harry was hard again as well, his cock brushing against the underside of Ron's balls with each movement.
Ron withdrew his fingers, and reached for the lube again, slicking Harry's cock with a generous amount. Then, never breaking eye contact with Harry, he started lowering himself down, back arched and hands braced on Harry's thighs. He went slowly, torturing them both inch by inch until Harry was finally inside him. Ron set a slow pace, using his hands as leverage as he rode Harry. He could feel every bump and drag of Harry's cock inside him, and he wanted it to last as long as it could.
"Ron, fuck. I can't…Ron." Harry's hands were tight on his hips, eyes wide and watching Ron's every movement. Ron picked up the pace, just slightly, sliding up almost all the way, and then back down in one smooth movement. He carefully shifted his weight, and wrapped one hand around his cock, stroking in time with his movements. The pleasure built in his spine, and the orgasm took him by surprise almost, spilling out over his hand onto Harry's stomach.
"Oh fuck, that's--" Harry broke off with a moan, fingers pressing painfully into Ron's skin, as he came a second time. Ron shuddered, stroking his cock once more through the last of his orgasm, and then slumped down on Harry's chest, kissing any patch of skin that he could reach without much effort.
They lay there breathing heavily for a long moment, and then Ron carefully moved to the side, wincing a bit as Harry's cock slipped free. He managed to summon a wet cloth and cleaned them both up lazily, before curling up with his head on Harry's shoulder, one arm and leg slung across his body.
"I was right. That was completely bloody brilliant."
Harry laughed and petted his hair weakly. "You're such a wanker."
"But you love me anyway." He pulled a sheet up over them, kissed the side of Harry's neck. "Why didn't we do this before?"
"I guess we're both idiots." Harry yawned, and wandlessly cast a spell to dim the lights.
Ron grinned, nuzzling Harry's neck. And then groaned as a horrible thought came to him.
"Fuck. I'm now indebted to a cat." He rolled to his back and stared in horror at the ceiling. "He'll never let me live it down."
At Harry's laughter, he rolled to his side again, leaning up on one elbow and glaring. His, "Oi, it's not funny Potter!" only seemed to make Harry laugh more, and Ron figured there was only one way to shut him up.
With a kiss.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It all starts with a cat, and ends with a kiss. It's the in between that counts.
Disclaimer: Not mine. All for fun. No harm intended, and I give them back in almost the same conditioned I borrowed them in.
Warnings: Nothing major. Demon devil cats?
Author's Note: Originally written for the fabulous bestmates_xmas exchange for the lovely ella_bane. Thanks to brumeux77 for the fantastic beta!
It all started innocently enough. All he wanted was to find the cat, eat some dinner and go to bed. Of course, nothing in his life since getting the cat had been that simple.
That damned cat. Ever since it had shown up at their door and Harry had started feeding it, it had done nothing but make Ron's life miserable. Pissed in his shoes, shredded his socks and left dead mice in his bed. Hermione said it did those things because it had chosen Ron as its owner. Ron was pretty much dead certain that the cat did these things because it was some kind of demon.
Today, as he had most days for the last month, Ron had come home after his shift at the Ministry and been met with the sound of the little black kitten crying pitifully. The flat he shared with Harry was small, but the cat had a penchant for getting into ridiculous spots and then not being able to get out again. Either that or he just enjoyed making Ron search for an hour having to listen to its cries. Damn cat. The cat was finally found in Harry's room, on the top shelf of his cupboard tucked in a box. Sighing, Ron took the box down and out jumped the cat.
That, in and of itself, wouldn't have been a problem. However, he'd chanced a glance down and been so startled by what was in the box, that he'd dropped it and its contents, magazines spilling over the floor, the graphic images burned into his retinas. Men writhed on the cover of the magazines, mouths opened in silent moans. There were no women, just men, and Ron suddenly realized that somehow he'd missed something rather important about his best mate.
Harry was gay.
Harry was gay, and hadn't told him. That, more than anything, was what kept Ron frozen, staring down at the images in disbelief. Surely if Harry had discovered something this huge about himself, he'd have told Ron. Ron who had dated Justin after Hermione, and Blaise after Susan. Maybe the discovery was new, but a closer look at the magazines showed that some were from years ago
So no, Harry was gay, or bisexual, and hadn't bothered to tell Ron for some reason he was sure made sense to Harry. Of course, Harry's reasons for keeping things to himself rarely made sense to anyone else, and Ron had never been one to let things fester. Well, not too long. And nothing this important.
He neatly put the magazines in the box and set the box on the shelf. Harry would be home soon, and it was Ron's night to get dinner. Which meant he had to go out for take away, as Ron and the kitchen didn't get along. Harry was a better cook, but they ended up eating take away four nights out of seven, and at the Leaky at least another two. It was rather more expensive, but at least they hadn't melted their kitchen in six months.
Getting take away gave him time to think through what he'd found out, and come up with a way to bring it into conversation. He wondered if he should actually thank Cuddles--and they had Teddy to thank for that, but at least it was better than Crookshanks--for hiding in Harry's cupboard to begin with. After all, if he hadn't Ron wouldn't have found the magazines, and who knew how long Harry planned to not say anything.
Harry was home by the time he returned with the curry, looking tired but satisfied, and was tossing a ball of yarn across the living room for Cuddles. They were trying to teach him to play fetch, which mostly consisted of Harry or Ron throwing something and Cuddles staring at them until they fetched it. At least it worked for one of the males in the flat, even if it was neither Harry or Ron.
"Have a good day?" Ron set the containers in the kitchen and took out plates and cutlery.
"It was an undercover assignment with Susan and Malfoy. How do you think my day was?"
Ron winced, and headed into the living room with two plates floating in front of him and a couple bottles of butterbeer. They had a kitchen table, but they hardly ever used it for eating. Most of the time it was covered in their work files.
"Still fighting are they?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. If I have to sit through one more of their lover's spats, I think I'm going to drop out of training all together. They're worse than you and Hermione ever were." He shuddered. "Never again, Ron. Never again."
Ron laughed, because they both knew that neither vow was true. Harry could no more stop being an Auror than he could stop being Harry Potter. And that meant he would do what he had to do to get through training, even if it meant putting up with Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy's lover's spats, or anything else that came up in the line of duty.
"Sorry about your life, Harry," Ron teased. "Neville and I had an interesting time at least. We got to interview Luna today. The Quibbler was broken into last night, and the thieves got away with her dad's latest research on the whereabouts of the Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks." Ron grinned fondly, eyes alight with amusement. "They also made off with a bag of galleons and several artifacts of unknown origin and value. But Luna was, of course, most concerned with the research."
Harry laughed, and grinned. "Wish I'd gone with you then. Teach me to think a raid on Knockturn would be more exciting. All we found were some ground up dung beetles. They'd managed to clean everything else out in time." He sighed, and shrugged. "Of course, our inside source turned out to be Mundungus Fletcher, so there might have only been ground up dung beetles to begin with."
Ron reached out and patted Harry's shoulder, thinking that he really did enjoy their after work chats. Especially when they hadn't been assigned to work the same cases. But, he was slightly distracted tonight by the giant purple elephant in the room, even if Harry was unaware that Ron was aware of it.
"So, when were you going to tell me?" He blurted it out in true Ron fashion. He'd never been one to wait around for a perfect time to bring up a sensitive subject. He'd found it worked much better just forging on ahead, and dealing with the consequences later.
"Tell you what?" Harry's brow was furrowed in confusion, and Ron was startled--for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening--at how adorable it was. He was pretty sure Harry hadn't been adorable that morning, or yesterday, or last week. It was as if his discovery had switched on the Harry is fit and attractive and available button in his head, now that he knew Harry liked blokes at least as well as girls.
"That you were gay."
Harry's mouth dropped open, a soundless gasp escaping him. "What? I…I'm not…"
"Harry, I found the magazines. Cuddles was trapped in your cupboard and the box fell down. It's okay. Did you think I wouldn't understand?" He shrugged, unconcerned with that really. All that mattered was that he knew now. "So, now that I know, what do you think of Williamson's arse?"
Harry blinked at him, and didn't even notice Cuddles as he delicately helped himself to a piece of chicken. Ron was really not cleaning it up later, when the cat got sick on the hearth.
"Ron, this isn't a joke." Harry's voice was furious, his cheeks red with temper. "It's…it's not blokes in general. It's one bloke, in particular."
It was Ron's turn to blink, and look at Harry in confusion. Harry was refusing to look at him though, and never let it be said that Ron wasn't quick on the uptake, when said uptake was all but punching him in the face.
"You're in love with Malfoy!" It all made sense now, why Harry found it so difficult to work with Draco and Susan. He was jealous! And, he realized, he was jealous that Harry was jealous. It was a never ending cycle of jealousy.
"For fuck's sake, Ron, you really are an idiot for someone who is so brilliant with deductive reasoning." Harry didn't sound angry anymore, just exasperated and maybe a little bit amused. "It's not Malfoy, you prat. It's you."
"Me? What do you mean, it's me?" Ron's brain wasn't quite keeping up with the conversation, even though every instinct was telling him to stop talking and start snogging.
"I mean, I love you. I mean I want to suck your cock. I mean I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night." Harry ran a hand through his hair and finally met Ron's eyes. "I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to fuck everything up."
For a long moment Ron couldn't say anything. Harry loved him. As in, loved him like his mum loved his dad. Like Bill loved Fleur. Like George loved his shop. Okay, maybe not that last one, but the other two metaphors stood.
"I'm sorry, Ron. This is why I didn't want to tell you." Harry banished his plate to the kitchen, and started to stand. "I didn't want things to be weird. You're my best mate, and I don't want to lose that."
Ron stood as well, unable to look away from Harry. His brain was still catching up with the conversation, and Harry was already across the room when Ron regained the power of coherent sentences.
"But that's brilliant!" He was smiling now, beaming at Harry as he crossed the room.
"Ron, this isn't a joke. I don't know what you're--" Harry broke off as Ron reached for him, tugging him close and up into a kiss.
"It's brilliant. You're brilliant. We're brilliant." Ron was babbling but he didn't care. Harry felt right in his arms, and he was so stupid for not ever having considered this before. This was why none of his other relationships had worked out, because he'd already been in one with Harry. He just hadn't known it yet.
"Sometimes I take a long time to catch up to what's right. You should know that about me by now." Ron laughed, pulling Harry closer, one hand on the back of his neck, the other low on his back. "Emotional depth of a teaspoon, remember?"
Harry laughed and finally relaxed into the hug. "I didn't think you thought of me that way. You never let on."
"I didn't let myself. You were Harry, my best mate who dated girls. I didn't want things to get weird."
Harry laughed again, and kissed the side of Ron's jaw, tongue rasping against the stubble. "Okay, so we're both prats."
"That's what make us a good match." Ron leaned down for a kiss, taking it deeper this time. The first touch of their tongues together sent sparks down his spine, and he couldn't remember a time he'd been so affected by a simple kiss. Probably not since Hermione. And even then, it had been as much adrenalin as the kiss itself that had had his heart racing.
"You get ridiculously sappy when you're in a relationship. If you ever buy me flowers, I am going to hex you," Harry said as he placed kisses across Ron's cheeks, tongue tracing along the freckles there.
"No flowers. Got it. Shagging now?" Ron's fingers wove in and out of Harry's hair, tugging his head back gently so he could place biting kisses along Harry's neck. He didn't think they needed to talk any more. They'd always been better at acting rather than talking.
Harry moaned as Ron found a sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear, and Ron could feel the hard line of Harry's cock pressing against him. "Yeah, shagging sounds good."
"Bloody brilliant." And this was why he loved blokes, they didn't need the same sort of declarations and foreplay women did. And Hermione might call that sexist of him, but in Ron's experience it was absolutely tru. He groped for his wand and with a quick spell they were both naked. "I fucking love being a wizard."
They stumbled down the hall, crashing into walls and pausing every now and then for a snog. Ron couldn't get enough of Harry's lips, or his tongue, neck or ears. He was fabulously responsive, and Ron quickly found that if he sucked the lobe of Harry's ear into his mouth, Harry's cock would literally jump. Finding out these little details was quickly becoming his favorite activity.
As soon as they reached a bedroom--Ron wasn't sure at the moment if it was his or Harry's--they tumbled into bed, rolling across the sheets until finally Ron was braced over Harry. He was suddenly nervous, and his hands were shaking a bit as he brushed a piece of hair off Harry's forehead. "Have you done this before?"
"Not with a bloke." Harry's lips were plump and red, eyes nearly black and cock hard and insistent against Ron's stomach. "Went to a club once, but couldn't bring myself to go home with anyone."
"Right then. Let's get this first one out of the way, shall we?"
"What--"
Once again, Harry broke off on a moan as Ron kissed him, working his way down his chest. He experimentally bit Harry's nipple, delighting in the way Harry nearly threw him off the bed in reaction. He catalogued the response for later, and kept moving downwards. Harry's navel was also especially sensitive he found as he flicked his tongue inside, fucking it slowly.
"Fuck, Ron. Please." Harry was braced on his elbows, staring down at Ron with fever-bright eyes.
Ron grinned and moved lower, trailing wet kisses across Harry's hipbones. Harry moved restlessly against the sheets, long slender fingers pressed into Ron's skin, leaving half-moon marks on pale skin. Ron felt Harry's cock against his cheek, leaving a sticky trace of precum in its wake. He turned his head and licked a long stripe across the tip, and Harry shouted, clutching Ron's shoulders almost painfully.
"Fuck, Ron, stop teasing! Suck my cock," Harry ordered, voice raspy with held-back moans.
"Bossy," Ron said, drawing back and grinning up at Harry wickedly. "But since you're going to come at least twice tonight, I can be generous the first time."
Without another word, Ron leaned forward and took Harry into his mouth. He didn't waste time teasing now, just slid his lips down Harry's cock until the head hit the back of his throat. How to breathe through his nose was a talent he'd learned from Justin, and he put it to good use now, swallowing around Harry's cock. Harry shouted, and arched off the bed, forcing his cock deeper into Ron's mouth as he came. Ron kept sucking until Harry pushed weakly at his shoulders, and drew back with a smug grin.
Harry looked wrecked, panting against the pillows with his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breath, and Ron couldn't help but lean forward for a kiss. Harry's arms went around him, petting him weakly.
"Brill'nt," he slurred, legs moving restless against Ron's. His cock was starting to rise again, and Ron had never been so grateful to be twenty-one. Recovery time at their age was next to nothing. Harry was right, it was brilliant.
Ron wandlessly summoned his favorite lube from the bedside table. That was when he realized they were in Harry's room, as he was nearly hit in the head with the tube when it came crashing in through the door. He managed to catch it at the last minute, setting it down on the bed beside them.
"You're going to love this, Harry." Ron moved so he was straddling Harry's thighs, and grinned brightly down at him. "You're going to love this so much." He reached for the lube, popping up the cap and pouring a generous amount over his fingers.
"Ron…I've never…" Harry bit his lip, eyes looking a bit uncertain now and Ron couldn't help but lean down for a kiss as he reached back.
"It's not for you. Not yet," he whispered as he started to fuck himself open. He braced one hand on Harry's chest as he worked two fingers inside himself. The first initial burn was always the worst, but as he slowly spread his fingers apart it got better. And it was all leading up to the main event, which was going to be brilliant. His mouth dropped open as he moved back against his hand, cock dragging along Harry's stomach.
Harry's eyes were wide, seemingly torn between watching Ron's face and peering down between their bodies where Ron was fingering himself open for Harry's cock.
"Fuck, that's hot." Harry sat up a bit more, one hand low on Ron's stomach, knuckles just brushing Ron's erection. "Love you."
"Harry." It was all he could manage at the moment, twisting his fingers once more, his cock now leaking a steady stream of precum onto Harry's stomach. Harry was hard again as well, his cock brushing against the underside of Ron's balls with each movement.
Ron withdrew his fingers, and reached for the lube again, slicking Harry's cock with a generous amount. Then, never breaking eye contact with Harry, he started lowering himself down, back arched and hands braced on Harry's thighs. He went slowly, torturing them both inch by inch until Harry was finally inside him. Ron set a slow pace, using his hands as leverage as he rode Harry. He could feel every bump and drag of Harry's cock inside him, and he wanted it to last as long as it could.
"Ron, fuck. I can't…Ron." Harry's hands were tight on his hips, eyes wide and watching Ron's every movement. Ron picked up the pace, just slightly, sliding up almost all the way, and then back down in one smooth movement. He carefully shifted his weight, and wrapped one hand around his cock, stroking in time with his movements. The pleasure built in his spine, and the orgasm took him by surprise almost, spilling out over his hand onto Harry's stomach.
"Oh fuck, that's--" Harry broke off with a moan, fingers pressing painfully into Ron's skin, as he came a second time. Ron shuddered, stroking his cock once more through the last of his orgasm, and then slumped down on Harry's chest, kissing any patch of skin that he could reach without much effort.
They lay there breathing heavily for a long moment, and then Ron carefully moved to the side, wincing a bit as Harry's cock slipped free. He managed to summon a wet cloth and cleaned them both up lazily, before curling up with his head on Harry's shoulder, one arm and leg slung across his body.
"I was right. That was completely bloody brilliant."
Harry laughed and petted his hair weakly. "You're such a wanker."
"But you love me anyway." He pulled a sheet up over them, kissed the side of Harry's neck. "Why didn't we do this before?"
"I guess we're both idiots." Harry yawned, and wandlessly cast a spell to dim the lights.
Ron grinned, nuzzling Harry's neck. And then groaned as a horrible thought came to him.
"Fuck. I'm now indebted to a cat." He rolled to his back and stared in horror at the ceiling. "He'll never let me live it down."
At Harry's laughter, he rolled to his side again, leaning up on one elbow and glaring. His, "Oi, it's not funny Potter!" only seemed to make Harry laugh more, and Ron figured there was only one way to shut him up.
With a kiss.