A/N: This is short! fluffy! and extremely pointless! Okay, okay-it sucks,
but at least I tried. (P.S. I don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, or
anything else by Miss J.K. Rowling!)
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Harry gazed out of the dormitory window nearest his bed. The clouds from last night's storm were just beginning to blow over, and on the horizon, the sun could be seen peeking out to get acquainted with the milky, purple- grey sky. The dormitory was still enveloped in the dim, grey darkness of the early-morning hours. Harry sat on the edge of his four-poster, still facing the frost-covered window. He layed down onto his back and stretched his legs out in front of himself. Knowing it was too early to go down to breakfast, he indulged in the luxurious comfort of his bed for the time being.
Groggily-whispered ramblings across the room startled Harry and he realized he must have drifted back to sleep. That bed was unbelievably comfortable, and he had been so tired.
"Morning, Harry," Ron mumbled, seating himself next to Harry who was still sprawled out on the bed. "Sleep last night?"
"No, not really. You?" he went back to gazing absent-mindedly out the window.
"Me neither. You should have told me you were still up!"
"Yeah, sorry."
"It's okay, Harry."
Harry closed his eyes, sleep overcoming him. He placed his arms behind his head and sighed deeply.
"Tired, Harry?"
"Mm Hmmm."
Ron layed down on his side, propped up on one elbow, and faced Harry. He watched Harry's stomach rising and falling gently until the smaller boy's small sighs became steady, deeper intakes of air. Ron didn't dare move a muscle. He had never watched Harry sleep like this before. Harry's young face displayed his innocence beautifully, and it was absolutely breathtaking. He remained there for what seemed like an eternity, just silently watching his friend gorgeously stretched out on the burgundy velvet comforter. Ron stared intently as Harry's mouth opened slightly, and he emitted a sigh. He wanted to connect with Harry, to be close to him right there in that moment.
Ron reached out to stroke the tousled raven hairs on Harry's forehead, the fine black tresses very much unlike his own fiery orange locks. "Love you, Harry," Ron whispered softly to his sleeping friend. Harry rolled onto his side, right up against Ron, but continued to sigh contentedly in his deep slumber. Ron knew the gesture didn't really mean anything; Harry was sound asleep, after all. He had the sudden urge to do something to Harry. He knew it was not wise, but his emotions overtook him and he gave in. Leaning slightly forward, he found the boy's soft lips in the darkness, and pressed his own to them. It was so electric, the two of them connected together in the most delicious way for the first time. For a brief moment their lips mingled, Ron getting lost in the feeling. Eventually he collapsed back onto the bed, clinging to Harry fervently. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the air entering, escaping, and reentering his lungs, his heart pounding faster. He knew this wasn't right, to take advantage of Harry while he was asleep, so vulnerable.
The slightest stir against his chest informed him that Harry was waking. He wanted to move away, knew he should stop clutching onto Harry, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It felt more right than anything had ever felt in his entire lifetime. He opened his eyes and instantly saw Harry gawking at him, a large smirk on his face. "I love you too, Ron."
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Harry gazed out of the dormitory window nearest his bed. The clouds from last night's storm were just beginning to blow over, and on the horizon, the sun could be seen peeking out to get acquainted with the milky, purple- grey sky. The dormitory was still enveloped in the dim, grey darkness of the early-morning hours. Harry sat on the edge of his four-poster, still facing the frost-covered window. He layed down onto his back and stretched his legs out in front of himself. Knowing it was too early to go down to breakfast, he indulged in the luxurious comfort of his bed for the time being.
Groggily-whispered ramblings across the room startled Harry and he realized he must have drifted back to sleep. That bed was unbelievably comfortable, and he had been so tired.
"Morning, Harry," Ron mumbled, seating himself next to Harry who was still sprawled out on the bed. "Sleep last night?"
"No, not really. You?" he went back to gazing absent-mindedly out the window.
"Me neither. You should have told me you were still up!"
"Yeah, sorry."
"It's okay, Harry."
Harry closed his eyes, sleep overcoming him. He placed his arms behind his head and sighed deeply.
"Tired, Harry?"
"Mm Hmmm."
Ron layed down on his side, propped up on one elbow, and faced Harry. He watched Harry's stomach rising and falling gently until the smaller boy's small sighs became steady, deeper intakes of air. Ron didn't dare move a muscle. He had never watched Harry sleep like this before. Harry's young face displayed his innocence beautifully, and it was absolutely breathtaking. He remained there for what seemed like an eternity, just silently watching his friend gorgeously stretched out on the burgundy velvet comforter. Ron stared intently as Harry's mouth opened slightly, and he emitted a sigh. He wanted to connect with Harry, to be close to him right there in that moment.
Ron reached out to stroke the tousled raven hairs on Harry's forehead, the fine black tresses very much unlike his own fiery orange locks. "Love you, Harry," Ron whispered softly to his sleeping friend. Harry rolled onto his side, right up against Ron, but continued to sigh contentedly in his deep slumber. Ron knew the gesture didn't really mean anything; Harry was sound asleep, after all. He had the sudden urge to do something to Harry. He knew it was not wise, but his emotions overtook him and he gave in. Leaning slightly forward, he found the boy's soft lips in the darkness, and pressed his own to them. It was so electric, the two of them connected together in the most delicious way for the first time. For a brief moment their lips mingled, Ron getting lost in the feeling. Eventually he collapsed back onto the bed, clinging to Harry fervently. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the air entering, escaping, and reentering his lungs, his heart pounding faster. He knew this wasn't right, to take advantage of Harry while he was asleep, so vulnerable.
The slightest stir against his chest informed him that Harry was waking. He wanted to move away, knew he should stop clutching onto Harry, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It felt more right than anything had ever felt in his entire lifetime. He opened his eyes and instantly saw Harry gawking at him, a large smirk on his face. "I love you too, Ron."