Revenge by Luvscharlie
"Are you going to pout all night, Weasley?"
"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron glared up at the smirk on Draco's face from his place on the sofa, and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know my mum wanted that set of spell books."
"As did mine, and it was the last set," Draco said matter-of-factly. "It's not my fault your reflexes are so slow."
"You tripped me to get to it first?" Ron's fury was evident as he pointed at the spot on his chin that at one point during the day had been covered by skin rather than the crust of dried blood that now coated it.
"Well, I wasn't going to beat you in a foot race with those bloody long legs of yours." Draco tried the logical approach.
"If that's your only explanation, Malfoy, go away. I'm trying to watch the telly."
"I really don't understand your fascination with that Muggle machine."
Ron ignored him and resumed staring at the television set, his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his lips set in a thin line to hide what Draco was certain were gritted teeth.
The night continued on in silence. The only sound in the flat was the noise from the telly and an occasional snort from Ron at something he obviously found amusing coming from the Muggle box. Draco retrieved the gift that was the subject of their argument, as well as a race through Flourish and Blotts earlier that afternoon to get the last set of them. He sat down and began to flip through the first book he'd gotten for his mother. Ron apparently caught a glimpse of what he was doing and there was an audible rise in the volume of the telly, a clear sign of his displeasure.
Draco did his best to ignore it. He got out the paper and spell-o-tape to wrap his mother's gift. Noticing his actions, Ron got up, turned off the telly and made his way to the bedroom. He announced his arrival with a slamming of the door so loud that it rattled the hinges and made Draco jump.
"So that's how it's going to be." Draco heaved a sigh of disgust and sat down to commence with the wrapping of the gift and give Ron time to cool off. Admittedly, tripping him was a bit below the belt, and he saw really only two options of moving past this. He could grovel, which was likely to happen this time next—never. Or…
Draco eased open the door of the dark room and slid quietly inside. Lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window, he tripped over Ron's recently discarded clothes. Bloody bastard never picks up after himself. He almost cursed aloud when in attempt not to fall over Ron's shoe he lost his balance and stubbed his toe on the corner of the bed.
Toe throbbing, Draco climbed onto the bed and leaned over Ron's cock. Nothing turned Weasley on like being awakened by having his cock sucked. He took Ron's cock in his hand and began to stroke him. He hardened quickly and Draco licked him from base to tip then took him deeply down his throat. He let out a startled protest when Ron grabbed his neck and began to fuck his mouth ruthlessly, pushing himself farther and farther down Draco's throat with each thrust. Draco struggled to get free, but Ron held tight, giving him no reprieve until he came.
"What the bloody fuck was that about?" Draco spit furiously, swiping his mouth on the back of his arm.
"Slow, my arse. How'd you like those reflexes?" Ron didn't wait for an answer. He presented Draco with his back before saying, "Now, get out."
On Christmas Eve, Ron handed Molly a package wrapped in blue foil. She squealed with delight when she opened it and found the set of spell books she had been eyeing for months at Flourish and Blotts.
Draco shot Ron an icy glare that would have made most men cower. Ron's simply returned the glower with a bright smile. As the room cleared and the Weasleys headed into the kitchen for dinner, Draco held back and grabbed Ron by the arm. "What did you do?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about?" Ron's Cheshire smile was enough to send Draco's anger straight to boiling.
"You switched the tags and transfigured the packages so I couldn't tell," Draco accused.
Ron shrugged his shoulders and walked away with a confident swagger and a smug smirk.
Infuriating bastard.
Fin.
A/N: Advent Drabble 16/31 for the prompt of gift