Chapter one - Let it snow.
His smile was faint, yet anyone paying a bit of attention could see the pain in his clouded eyes. In the absense of a breeze, his long, thin blonde hair stood stock still, not even a strand appeared out of place. This gorgeous mane was worn, draped down the length of his back, longer than it had been all those years ago, in this memory of Hogwarts that he found himself trapped inside yet again.
Draco couldn't even begin to describe the anguish he felt. He stared out the window, his eyes focused on the unrelenting snow. The cold from outside reached his cheek, which was pressed against the thin glass seperating him from the harsh winter's day. Nothing, however, could seperate him from the cold he felt inside. That, was a space far too hollow and frozen to be blocked or even touched. Yet, that is where his memories lie. And that is where he is doomed to remain.
The red hair and freckles clearly dictated this young boy to be an enemy from the start. His father had grilled him on such facts, assuring that Draco could not possibly make a careless mistake of associating with such god-awful trash as the Weasleys. Despite all of his teachings, despite all he knew was right, Draco felt a kinship, even an attraction, to Ronald Weasley. He couldn't help it. Muggle-lover or not, that built and breath-taking body had an appeal that simply could not be overlooked!
He had to try though. Even now, he fought. Draco fought himself, fought his body, fought his memories, for every shred of sanity he still held dear. He had to get Ron off of his mind! He had to escape the plague of his lust. He had to. If he didn't, surely he would be consumed by it. Surely, this would be the death of him.
The memories varied from time to time. It could be the most simple of things, from a dumb-struck facial expression to a small content smile when he thought he made a witty comeback. Ron set his body on fire, even in memory. Draco did not like that. He did not like it one damn bit. And now, after all these years, he was expected to work side by amazing-and-well-built-wet-dream-inspiring side with the object of his lusts.
Oh the torture...
"Please more!!" Ron screamed. A scream, that is, if one were to go by what Ron was reaching for. If one were to be perfectly honest however, they would admit this was a miserable attempt. His vocal cords were tight with a feeling of inexplicable bliss and an hour or so of loud guttural moans.
Draco moved upward from his most effective place in Ron's lap with a smile full of contentment and promises of great sex. Ron could feel Draco's lips curling in a smile against the skin of his own stomach, which Ron's powerful embrace had him pushed tightly against. Draco would still have his face pressed a bit lower if Ron had any remnant of a courageous spine after the last 15 minutes of passionate "mouth-hugging" that Draco had initiated. However, Ron couldn't really feel his spine at the moment, so not having one to use wouldn't surprise him too much.
Draco's adoring eyes glanced up at Ron, sparkling in the candle light. His mouth was still covered in proof of Ron's extreme happiness. Ron could feel a deep, hot blush creeping up in his pale face at such a sight. He leaned down quickly and kissed Draco on the cheek, as if that would wash away a bit of his embarrassment. It wouldn't. He was still easily pleasured and he knew it. What was even more surprising and happily accepted, however, was that Draco knew it. And Draco loved it. A lot.
Draco moved himself to his knees and Ron pressed his eyes tightly shut. He didn't know what on earth his beloved had planned, and he loved the anxiety of waiting almost as much as the actions that he was sure would ensue after the wait was done.
The next thing Ron was aware of, a smooth chest with two rather hardened points on it was pressed flat against his hunched over back. Ron immediately straightened himself, with a loud moan of pleasure and an involuntary shudder than ran full length from the top of his head to somewhere on his big toe.
He felt Draco's grip on his shoulder's tightened as he whispered to Ron the three words he'd been longing to hear since all those years ago when he first laid eyes on his sexy blonde angel.
"I love you"
And with that, the world was upside down. Up was down, down was up, boy bands actually played their own instruments, pigs flew to Pluto (which was indisputably STILL a planet), and most importantly, Draco entered him in a rush of pleasure that would rival and outshine that of any drug.
Ron groaned quietly as he awoke from yet another vivid dream. His nightly fantasies had once again been plagued with what his heart and groin both felt was a definite "should be." Draco and himself had enjoyed yet another sweaty embrace. Sadly, this embrace was one of pure fantasy, that, given their unfriendly past together, could never hope to be achieved in reality. Ron could not be more frustrated.