Title: Fever Fever
Rating:
Summary: Harry gets sick and gets delusional. Harry/Ron. Slash
A/N: This is from a weird ass dream I got when I was sick with a fever. REVIEWS ARE LOVE!
And also, it's a modified story so some things might be off. And AU
Disclaimer: Because I am poor, I own nothing. This is a complete work of fiction in my little sick, twisted mine. In simpler words, COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FAKE!
"Fuck! Why me?!" yelled a frustrated Harry Potter. Or more or less tried to yell and failing miserably due to the coughing fit that erupted at the same moment that he tried to talk.
You see, our very own Boy Who Lived, was bedridden with a cold. So instead of going out partying with his friends on one of the few holidays the trio was having, Harry was stuck at home with a box of Kleenex and large quantities of cough syrup, watching re-run of old holiday specials he'd seen a hundred times over. Joy Joy.
"Bloody fuck! Why do I have to be sick NOW of all times?" muttered the dark haired boy into the empty air, as he shuffled pitifully towards the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders in search of more drugs to try and ease the throbbing in his head.
But, going up stairs, even just two or three, with a blanket that trails on the floor is not the smartest of ideas. Halfway up the few stairs, the blanket Harry had been inconveniently standing on slipped on the polished hard wood floors, sending the large, burly man crashing to the ground like an uncoordinated teenager.
"CRAP!" screeched the boy as he fell, landing with a large THUMP, banging his knee and elbow painfully on the hard stairs. Snickers could be heard and that served to humiliate Harry further, knowing someone was watching him.
"Having a bit of trouble, are you?" A sly voice with a hint of humor said as Ron walked around the corner of the shared flat. "Is poor Harry Barry sick?" the slightly taller man teased.
"Yes. Now help me up before I curse the living shit out you." Harry replied tersely, still sitting on the hard floor, staring up at the other man.
Still chuckling, Ron swooped down, one arm around the others waist and the other tugging at his elbow, pulled the smaller man to his feet. The hand on the waist lingered, not wanting to leave the oddly familiar position, to the surprise of both men. Soft light danced in the chocolate brown robs that were staring intently into slightly glazed green ones, as though trying to read the thoughts inside that beautiful head.
"We should get you into bed. It feels like you have a fever." Ron said softly, breaking the silence. Harry nodded mutely, letting his best mate lead the way into his room. A large bed took up most of the room, accompanied by a mahogany chest and drawer set.
"You get into bed and I'll go make you something light to eat." Ron said as he led the increasingly dazed Harry onto his own bed and under the covers. "It must be the fever kicking in. Or the amount of Nyquil." Thought the other man as he left the room, leaving Harry to fall into a fitful sleep.
Harry woke to the sound of a door being opened and shut quietly. Padding footsteps could be heard and the bed sunk as the unknown person climbed on.
"Hey" greeted the other in a whispered voice. Harry turned to see Ron staring intently. Light danced in those eyes that Harry had never noticed before, as silken hair fell across high cheek bones. Full lips twisted in a small smile, looking just as intently as the man below him.
"What are you looking at?" inquired the still whispering man as he too studied the other. Full lips that were slightly chapped, chiseled jaw and still slightly glazed green eyes stared back at him.
"You" was the husky replied as an elegant hand came up to tuck the falling piece of hair behind the others ear. But instead of returning to its place on the bed, said appendage caressed Ron's cheek lovingly, cupping around to pull the other man down slightly. Warm lips met half way, molding together as thought they had been doing this for years.
They broke apart, both panting slightly, still staring into each others eyes. Harry sat up, pulling Ron closer, one hand wrapping around the others waist, the other staying where it was on the others cheek as they're lips joined again in a searing kiss. Ron's hands wound their way around Harry's neck, pulling the other impossibly close, trying to feel all of the other man at once.
Ron's warm tongue swiped across Harry's bottom lip, taking the lead in the kiss. Harry's mouth willing opens to the intrusion, as their tongues battled for dominance. Ron pushed Harry back until his body hit the bed, and then straddling Harry's waste. His clothed ass ground into the sizable erection below him, making both men groan.
Harry rolled them over, taking control, hands sliding down to finger the hem other Ron's shirt. They broke apart as the offending article of clothing was removed, Harry sitting back to admire the beauty beneath him. He leaned down, suckling at Ron's neck, making him groan and writhe at the wondrous feeling. Harry continued lower, taking one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hard bud.
Ron pulled the others head away from his chest, back to his lips to steal a breath taking kiss. He ran his hand down Harry's already bare chest, feeling the muscles twitch underneath his long fingers.
"I want you…to fuck me." Ron whispered into the smaller mans ear, sending shivers down Harry's spine as he fumbled with Ron's belt. He finally won, and unzipping the pants, tugged them off completely, leaving the other completely bare, clad in nothing but his skin. It turned Harry on to no end to see Ron lying submissive underneath him, just ripe of the taking.
Ron's hands tugged at the draw strings of the others sweatpants, trying to feel more skin against his own. The sweat pants inched off slowly, revealing taut skin, and then dark curls to finally reveal Harry's-
"Wake up, sleeping beauty! Foods ready!" Came the booming voice of Ronald Weasley. Harry jumped from his bed, looking around startled to see Ron standing in his doorway, holding a tray full with a bowl of soup, crackers and a glass of water.
"Fuck the whole 'starve a fever' bullshit." Ron muttered more to himself than Harry as he set the tray down on the end of the bed. "I'll be back in a couple minutes. Just need to turn the….the…cook thingy whatsit off." Ron announce as he walked out of the room.
'It…was a dream?' Harry thought to himself as he stared at the slowly cooling soup. 'Than why do I want that to be real?'
A/n: Can't decide whether this need a sequel or not. If I get enough reviews, I might! ANYWAY, REVIEW PLEASE!