Ron was cold.

Oh, he was so cold.

Although, that body lying near him pulsated heat, so much heat. That body didn't touch him though. To touch, oh, to touch would burn, and although Ron's flushed skin, and fervent red hair suggested otherwise, Ron hated fire. And, gods, Harry Potter was fire.

Ron was dirty, so very dirty.

His little boy-who-lived, shined with half dry sweat, and so did he. Of course his boy was asleep. Harry always slept afterwards, satiated, and whole, for the moment. Sometimes Ron wonders if he has the right to call Harry his.

Ron will never be whole.

No, something left him tonight. Or maybe it was last night, or sometime last month. Ron didn't know, he just understood something was gone.

And Ron will never feel wanted.

Because heroes never really give after they take. And when they take, they take everything. Heroes can't do things on a small scale, and Ron knows this now. Ron probably knew it before, but lies and heated flesh are so intoxicating.

Ron hates the truth.

The truth takes away everything he wants. The truth tears off all his clothes, and leaves him bare. The truth is, Harry doesn't love him. Harry didn't want Ron because he was Ron. Harry wants Ron because Ron is flesh, hot sweaty, and very willing flesh. And together ther is no compassion, just a quick scramble for completion, and relief. And, thats what Ron gives Harry, relief from pain, and responsibility. But that's just for a fifteen minute afterglow.

Ron gets nothing but pretend and lies. Ron pretends Harry wants him, likes his company over everyone elses and sometimes-when Harry feels gentle-Ron can think Harry loves him.

But Harry doesn't love him. Ron isn't special. Ron is just there-a piece of warm, moist flesh. Ron also knows that there are other bodies, some like Lavender who don't care who they fuck, and others like Ginny who would do anything to touch Harry. Then there are the Ron's of Harry's bodies. They are wondering where Harry is tonight. They pretend that he is busy, and not with someone.

So, Ron is as always like everyone else, and every one else would do anything for the boy-who-lived.

Although Ron knows he's not special, with Harry he can pretend. And in the frantic heat of sexual union, Ron pretends their souls are one.

But pretending turns Ron cold.

And he is so very cold tonight.