(no subject)
Title: Finally - standalone.
Author: x_yourkiss
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1291
Summary: AU - the boys are 13. It’s a seemingly normal day, that is until Ron discovers that his feelings about Harry have changed into something much more than just friends. The boys share their first kiss. =)
Disclaimer: Not real, no matter how much we wish.
Dedication: screamerdreamer
Notes: My first Ron/Harry ever. Hope you enjoy =)
“Harry, this is Ron. Can you hear me? Over.” Ron quickly ducked behind a densely overrun shrub, barely avoiding the wandering eyes of that evil woman next door. He didn’t even dare to breath. Several seconds passed until Ron peeked his head above the hedge. And there she sat, still lounging lazily on her back porch, shaded by one of the old oak trees from the afternoons sweltering heat.
“Yup, I hear you. Can you see anything? Over.” Harry’s thundering voice answered him, through that dumb muggle device, called something like a talkie-walkie.
“Bloody hell Harry, hush up, would ya? I don’t want that batty old lady coming after me,” Ron replied grinning at his best mates tactlessness. They had been friends since they were three, and although they were nearly fourteen, they were now more immature than ever.
“Aww, poor Won’s afraid of some old muggle. What’s she gonna do, bite your head off?” Harry replied, “And, you forgot to say over. Over.” Ron blushed profusely at the sound of Harry calling him “Won.” His mothers embarrassing nickname for him. Why was he doing this anyway? Oh yeah. Because Harry had asked him to, and Ron, lacking the ability to just say no, had agreed.
People seemed to have that effect over Ron. He was too scared to hurt anybody’s feelings, so instead of saying no, he just let them walk all over him and take advantage of him. And that’s how he had gotten into this mess. He supposed that normal boys his age would love getting into all sorts of trouble like this, but Ron really wasn’t the troublemaking type. Sure, he had a smart mouth that occasionally got him a grounding, or even worse a detention, but Ron was never one to purposely agitate somebody. What was the point of playing a trick on someone if you would just end up getting caught in the end? Ron thought that he would never know.
“Just get over here Potter, I don’t even know the bloody spell,” Ron replied. A few moments passed, in which a dog next door barked and a slight breeze passed over the humid earth. What a completely ridiculous idea, Ron thought, spying was so pointless. Ron wondered if maybe he had pushed the wrong button, and maybe Harry hadn’t received his message. “Har-” he started to call, turning around in his spot behind that overgrown bush. But before he could get the whole name out, there Harry stood.
“You were supposed to say over,” he said grinning up at Ron, who stood a good three inches taller than Harry. Ron grinned too, not at Harry’s joke, but at Harry’s appearance. Harry had dirt smudged all over his thin face, and tiny beads of sweat were running down his brow. His glasses were set sideways over his crooked nose and his black hair was sticking up awkwardly. “What are you smirking at, Weasley?”
Ron felt as though something inside of him had changed.
Harry’s tone reminded Ron of all the times that he had been made fun of. But he didn’t really mind it. “You-you’re face,” he replied innocently. Harry looked up at him, wide-eyed, and madly patted his face as though something was the matter with it. This gesture made Ron’s smirk turn into a full-fledged laugh. “No, there’s nothing on it Harry, you just look--cute.” Almost immediately Ron regretted what he had said, his cheeks flushing a brighter red than Uncle Vernon’s when the Weasley’s had shown up a few weeks earlier to take Harry away. He didn’t mean it like that, and he wished beyond belief that he could find some way to convey this to Harry. But, surprisingly, Harry didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if he had heard at all, he completely ignored Ron’s comment, and turned back to look at the lady next door. Leaving Ron to stand there, worrying himself senseless.
“How did that spell go again, the one that Hermione said would make Miss Hawkins completely mental?” Harry asked himself out loud. Ron shrugged, still physically shaken over what he had said. Harry wasn’t cute. Not to the least bit. He was, after all, a boy. Just Ron’s mate, his best one.
Harry with those lovely green eyes.
“No!” Ron shouted. Harry glanced towards Ron with a concerned look on his face. “I-I mean, I don’t know.” It was then that Ron noticed how close they were standing towards each other. Crouched down, their bodies only inches apart. Harry’s lips were right there, just taunting Ron. And poor, poor Ron was horrified. To feel that same way about a girl was perfectly normal. Ron had thought about many of the girls at his school before, in more than platonic ways. But now this whole new emotion was rushing through his body. It was as though he was seeing Harry in a whole new light.
Harry just went on, quietly practicing the spell under his breath, not realizing that the whole universe, at least in Ron’s eyes, had just shifted. “Are you ready?” he asked Ron, jolting him out of his stupor. Ron nodded, not particularly sure what Harry was talking about, but going along with it anyway. Slowly both he and Harry peeked over the hedge. There sat Miss Hawkins. She had moved since the last time Ron had looked at her. Now she held her knitting in one hand, her three cats surrounding her suspiciously.
“This is going to be monumental,” said Harry glancing over at Ron one more time, grinning at Ron’s now gray face. He mumbled some words under his breath, and with a flick of his wrist cast the spell. Suddenly, poor Miss Hawkins jumped up from her chair, dropping her knitting and startling her cats. Once she was on her feet, it seemed as though her legs were out of control and she pranced around the yard like a puppet. Swaying from side to side, a painfully pleasant look plastered on her face. She leapt here and there, as if no one could stop her, and then, just as suddenly as she began, she sat back down again, picked up her needlework and continued knitting.
Harry was laughing, but all Ron could do was grin. Not at the sight of Miss Hawkins (who he had long forgotten about) but at Harry who looked so ecstatic and so adorable that Ron couldn’t help himself. And just as abruptly as these feelings had hit Ron, he suddenly knew what he had to do.
Harry had stopped laughing and was now staring seriously at Ron. Ron, whose heart was thumping madly, met Harry’s perfect green gaze. Slowly he bent forward, eyes shut tightly so he wouldn’t be able to see Harry’s (probably disgusted) reaction to what he was about to do. Ron heard grass shuffling around him, and felt hot air being blown across his lips. A sudden spark of courage persuaded Ron to close the gap between them. Ron’s pink lips lightly touched Harry’s, and then he pulled away.
Ron didn’t want to open his eyes, but when he did there stood Harry looking timidly down at the ground. His cheeks were now just as red as Ron’s. Ron couldn't believe what had just happened. He had just kissed his best friend. He was shocked, and even appalled at himself. Not just because it was him that had initiated it, but also because he liked it. They met each others gaze and both grinned bashfully and Ron's thoughts seemed to fly away. They both licked their lips before leaning forward and kissing again.
Thirty feet away, spying on the boys with her own binoculars, Hermione chuckled lightly, and her exasperated voice said, “Finally.”
Author: x_yourkiss
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1291
Summary: AU - the boys are 13. It’s a seemingly normal day, that is until Ron discovers that his feelings about Harry have changed into something much more than just friends. The boys share their first kiss. =)
Disclaimer: Not real, no matter how much we wish.
Dedication: screamerdreamer
Notes: My first Ron/Harry ever. Hope you enjoy =)
“Harry, this is Ron. Can you hear me? Over.” Ron quickly ducked behind a densely overrun shrub, barely avoiding the wandering eyes of that evil woman next door. He didn’t even dare to breath. Several seconds passed until Ron peeked his head above the hedge. And there she sat, still lounging lazily on her back porch, shaded by one of the old oak trees from the afternoons sweltering heat.
“Yup, I hear you. Can you see anything? Over.” Harry’s thundering voice answered him, through that dumb muggle device, called something like a talkie-walkie.
“Bloody hell Harry, hush up, would ya? I don’t want that batty old lady coming after me,” Ron replied grinning at his best mates tactlessness. They had been friends since they were three, and although they were nearly fourteen, they were now more immature than ever.
“Aww, poor Won’s afraid of some old muggle. What’s she gonna do, bite your head off?” Harry replied, “And, you forgot to say over. Over.” Ron blushed profusely at the sound of Harry calling him “Won.” His mothers embarrassing nickname for him. Why was he doing this anyway? Oh yeah. Because Harry had asked him to, and Ron, lacking the ability to just say no, had agreed.
People seemed to have that effect over Ron. He was too scared to hurt anybody’s feelings, so instead of saying no, he just let them walk all over him and take advantage of him. And that’s how he had gotten into this mess. He supposed that normal boys his age would love getting into all sorts of trouble like this, but Ron really wasn’t the troublemaking type. Sure, he had a smart mouth that occasionally got him a grounding, or even worse a detention, but Ron was never one to purposely agitate somebody. What was the point of playing a trick on someone if you would just end up getting caught in the end? Ron thought that he would never know.
“Just get over here Potter, I don’t even know the bloody spell,” Ron replied. A few moments passed, in which a dog next door barked and a slight breeze passed over the humid earth. What a completely ridiculous idea, Ron thought, spying was so pointless. Ron wondered if maybe he had pushed the wrong button, and maybe Harry hadn’t received his message. “Har-” he started to call, turning around in his spot behind that overgrown bush. But before he could get the whole name out, there Harry stood.
“You were supposed to say over,” he said grinning up at Ron, who stood a good three inches taller than Harry. Ron grinned too, not at Harry’s joke, but at Harry’s appearance. Harry had dirt smudged all over his thin face, and tiny beads of sweat were running down his brow. His glasses were set sideways over his crooked nose and his black hair was sticking up awkwardly. “What are you smirking at, Weasley?”
Ron felt as though something inside of him had changed.
Harry’s tone reminded Ron of all the times that he had been made fun of. But he didn’t really mind it. “You-you’re face,” he replied innocently. Harry looked up at him, wide-eyed, and madly patted his face as though something was the matter with it. This gesture made Ron’s smirk turn into a full-fledged laugh. “No, there’s nothing on it Harry, you just look--cute.” Almost immediately Ron regretted what he had said, his cheeks flushing a brighter red than Uncle Vernon’s when the Weasley’s had shown up a few weeks earlier to take Harry away. He didn’t mean it like that, and he wished beyond belief that he could find some way to convey this to Harry. But, surprisingly, Harry didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if he had heard at all, he completely ignored Ron’s comment, and turned back to look at the lady next door. Leaving Ron to stand there, worrying himself senseless.
“How did that spell go again, the one that Hermione said would make Miss Hawkins completely mental?” Harry asked himself out loud. Ron shrugged, still physically shaken over what he had said. Harry wasn’t cute. Not to the least bit. He was, after all, a boy. Just Ron’s mate, his best one.
Harry with those lovely green eyes.
“No!” Ron shouted. Harry glanced towards Ron with a concerned look on his face. “I-I mean, I don’t know.” It was then that Ron noticed how close they were standing towards each other. Crouched down, their bodies only inches apart. Harry’s lips were right there, just taunting Ron. And poor, poor Ron was horrified. To feel that same way about a girl was perfectly normal. Ron had thought about many of the girls at his school before, in more than platonic ways. But now this whole new emotion was rushing through his body. It was as though he was seeing Harry in a whole new light.
Harry just went on, quietly practicing the spell under his breath, not realizing that the whole universe, at least in Ron’s eyes, had just shifted. “Are you ready?” he asked Ron, jolting him out of his stupor. Ron nodded, not particularly sure what Harry was talking about, but going along with it anyway. Slowly both he and Harry peeked over the hedge. There sat Miss Hawkins. She had moved since the last time Ron had looked at her. Now she held her knitting in one hand, her three cats surrounding her suspiciously.
“This is going to be monumental,” said Harry glancing over at Ron one more time, grinning at Ron’s now gray face. He mumbled some words under his breath, and with a flick of his wrist cast the spell. Suddenly, poor Miss Hawkins jumped up from her chair, dropping her knitting and startling her cats. Once she was on her feet, it seemed as though her legs were out of control and she pranced around the yard like a puppet. Swaying from side to side, a painfully pleasant look plastered on her face. She leapt here and there, as if no one could stop her, and then, just as suddenly as she began, she sat back down again, picked up her needlework and continued knitting.
Harry was laughing, but all Ron could do was grin. Not at the sight of Miss Hawkins (who he had long forgotten about) but at Harry who looked so ecstatic and so adorable that Ron couldn’t help himself. And just as abruptly as these feelings had hit Ron, he suddenly knew what he had to do.
Harry had stopped laughing and was now staring seriously at Ron. Ron, whose heart was thumping madly, met Harry’s perfect green gaze. Slowly he bent forward, eyes shut tightly so he wouldn’t be able to see Harry’s (probably disgusted) reaction to what he was about to do. Ron heard grass shuffling around him, and felt hot air being blown across his lips. A sudden spark of courage persuaded Ron to close the gap between them. Ron’s pink lips lightly touched Harry’s, and then he pulled away.
Ron didn’t want to open his eyes, but when he did there stood Harry looking timidly down at the ground. His cheeks were now just as red as Ron’s. Ron couldn't believe what had just happened. He had just kissed his best friend. He was shocked, and even appalled at himself. Not just because it was him that had initiated it, but also because he liked it. They met each others gaze and both grinned bashfully and Ron's thoughts seemed to fly away. They both licked their lips before leaning forward and kissing again.
Thirty feet away, spying on the boys with her own binoculars, Hermione chuckled lightly, and her exasperated voice said, “Finally.”