Title: Old Dogs Teach New Tricks
Summary: Ron and Harry discover a secret about Dumbledore when they find some old letters from Grindelwald.
Prompts: Dumbledore, gay - Challenge Wanking Not Wank
Pairing/Character: Ron/Harry (and DD/GG implied)
Rating: R
Word Count: 868
Genre: Smut, humour

"Lucky Kingsley found it really, isn't it?" Ron asked, "Anyone else, and you might never have known."

They were in Dumbledore's sleeping quarters at Hogwarts, a room in which neither of them had ever been or even thought of before. Shacklebolt was appointed Minister of Magic and had found, in a filing cabinet once belonging to Scrimgeour, the original copy of Dumbledore's will. He had not only left Harry the sword and the snitch but the entire contents of his private quarters at Hogwarts. Harry didn't know how to feel. Had he meant that much to Dumbledore? Did he have no one else to leave his most prized possessions with?

"What's this?" Ron asked him, holding up a strange silver object he'd just taken out of a drawer.

"No idea," Harry answered, glancing up at yet another unfamiliar object. "Just put it on top of the pile, we'll ask Kingsley about them." He watched Ron turn the small item over in his hands a few times, before he placed it carefully on top of the other things they couldn't recognise.

"You're going to be minted, Harry. I mean, even more minted than you already are," Ron added, rolling his eyes. "Some of these things look really expensive."

"We're going to be minted, Ron." Harry corrected him. He bent over the trunk in front of him and began moving things about to see if he could find anything interesting.

"Shit!" Ron hissed from behind him, slamming a drawer shut.

"What is it?" Harry stood up quickly and raised his wand to point it at the drawer. Ron was blushing. He shook his head and signalled for Harry to lower his wand.

"I don't think you want to see what he's got in here, Harry," he said. Harry frowned and walked slowly over to the drawer. Curiosity overwhelming him, he pulled it open. His mouth fell open and he looked between Ron and the drawer several times.

"But… no… what?" Harry didn't know what to say.

"I warned you," Ron told him, smirking slightly, though the tips of his ears were still glowing. "Please tell me that is not what I think it is?" Ron asked, scrunching up his nose and gesturing towards a short, purple object.

"Plug butt," Harry nodded, before quickly shaking his head and correcting himself, "Butt plug." Harry noticed some papers lying beside the small selection of controversial objects and curiosity took hold of him once again and he picked up the envelope that was on top of the small pile.

Ron watched him carefully as he removed the paper from inside. Harry's eyes scanned the neat handwriting and his eyes widened as he neared the bottom of the page.

"Grindelwald."

"What? No!" Ron snatched the paper from Harry and began to read. He looked at Harry, mouth hanging open. "They were…?"

"Gay."

"No," Ron shook his head and returned to reading, "This is filth. The dirty gits!" Harry felt the heat rising in his own face as he watched Ron read, but not from embarrassment.

Ron looked up when he had finished. Seeing the look on Harry's face, he looked slightly disgusted. "Please, tell me that you're not getting turned on thinking about old men going at it?"

"They weren't that old then!" He tried to adjust himself through his jeans to get more comfortable. "It wasn't the thought of them doing it… just how dirty it is." Harry gulped and looked down, feeling slightly ashamed. "We don't… really…"

He heard Ron laugh quietly and move closer. He moved his hand to lift Harry's chin. "Harry, if you wanted dirty talk, all you had to do was ask. On the bed."

"What?"

"On. The. Bed." Ron told him, punctuating each word with a soft shove.

Harry was forced backwards and fell onto the bed as the back of his knees hit the edge. Ron straddled his thighs and quickly unzipped Harry's pants, freeing his now painful erection. Ron looked down at Harry and began his own imaginary letter in a low, lust-ridden voice.

"Dear Harry," he began, "Can't stop thinking about the last time I fucked you against the wall of my bedroom. I'd spent so many years visualising just how that might go… fucking my own hand and imagining that it was your tight, hot hole…"

Harry moved to wrap his hand around his cock and began stroking as fast as he could. He was already so close, and if Ron kept talking the way he was he would be finished in no time. Beads of frustration began to drip down his face as he gritted his teeth and tried thrusting upwards despite Ron's heavy weight on his legs.

Sensing Harry's difficulty, Ron took over, stroking him quickly and leaning over to whisper his filthy words into Harry's ear.

"… I love it when I can see your face as you come. It's so fucking hot, Harry. You're so fucking hot."

With that, Harry exploded all over Ron's hand and stomach. "Wow. Wow."

Ron kissed Harry's forehead and rolled to lie next to him on the bed. He propped himself up on an elbow and smirked.

"And there's plenty more where that came from."