Disclaimer: What a world it would be if both Harry and Ron belonged to me. But sadly, its not mine.
A/N: Because the boys need love too. And because I love a housewife type Harry and a relatively clueless if not wicked Ron.
The rain had put everybody in a foul mood, made even worse when Angelina had demanded a practice for the entire team. They were now in the locker rooms, groaning to themselves, and trying to wring the water out of the cloaks.
"I tell ya Harry, that Angelina is one sandwich short of a picnic." Ron said as he was shrugging out of his dripping cloak. The only thing that Harry could do was to nod dumbly. He was suddenly fixated by Ron's shoulder blades.
"Hey Harry, can you give me a hand with these bracers? The rains stiffened them up, and now I can't undo them"
Feeling embarrassed at being caught staring at Ron's back, Harry made his way over to Ron where he held his arm out obediently, waiting for Harry.
"Here, you take the laces, I'll work on the buckle."
Harry, with shaking hands tentatively reached out for the stiffened leather laces. He didn't know why Ron was suddenly affecting him so. He had seen Ron half naked plenty of times before. Why was it now that he could barley hold himself up? Surely, he thought, I must've gotten sick from being out in the rain for so long. He suddenly sneezed several times and his knees gave out, sending him crashing into Ron's body. With honed keeper instincts, Ron's hands immediately shot out, grabbing Harry under the arms and pulling him to his feet.
Shaking, Harry collapsed against Ron's chest. Without any real thought as to what he was doing, Ron reached up, and gently ruffled Harry's hair, finally coming to rest cupping Harry's chin; his thumb gently stroking Harry's cheek stubble.
"Looks to me as if someone caught a cold," smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Harry looked up unblinking, and slowly nodded. He didn't want Ron to know that the real reason for his shaking was the intimate way that Ron was looking at him. Feeling suddenly ashamed and self-conscious, he broke away from the embrace.
"I think I need a shower." He stuttered, turning away from Ron. He had gotten all of a step, when Ron suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him close to his chest once again. Such large hands and bony hands, but somehow still sinewy, mused Harry as he felt Ron's grip never once leave his wrist. So different from my own.
He was looking up at Ron's face again, he could hear Ron's steady heart beating, he could feel the heat of his breath against his cold checks, could smell the pancakes he had just before practice, and suddenly it was a sensory overload. In a bold move Ron ducked his head and melded his half chewed lips against Harry's. Harry was tasting the lingering scent on Ron's lips, he was running his fingers through his damp hair, he was inhaling Ron's scent. He felt dizzy, light-headed, sick, enthralled, elated, nervous, excited, all at once. It was the perfect combination of ecstasy and agony.
His knees gave out again, and it wasn't a surprise that Ron caught him. In an awfully wicked voice that sent shivers up and down Harry's already cold back, Ron whispered, "I think a showers a great idea"
Harry couldn't agree more.
And I'll leave the rest to your imaginations. ;-P