Harry hadn't expected Ron to come back, especially after he and Hermione moved camp over to somewhere else. And there were many reasons for them to embrace, but his return was most definitely one of them; in a time of war and fear, he thought he'd lost his best friend. He almost had, thanks to the Snatchers. But now Ron was back, and even though both men were dripping wet from the cold lake whose water clung in droplets all over their barely clothed bodies, left shuddering from the chill and from the emotional roller coaster of his return and the twisted lies told by Salazar Slytherin's locket, now broken by the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Emotions and adrenaline were high, and Harry could barely contain the joy, but thankfully for him neither could Ron.
They didn't even realize they'd kissed until they were already pulling away.
"I-" Ron tried to speak first. Almost immediately, so close that he was still speaking the word into Harry's lips as his eyes went wide in shock, staring straight into Harry's. "That wasn't-"
"I'm sorry," Harry interrupted hurriedly, averting his gaze even if his hold on Ron's shirtless body didn't seem to loosen very much. "I didn't mean to do that, I know that you and Hermione will probably want to..." Sighing, he loosened up his grip on him and pulled away, about to turn around before Ron took his hand.
"But if she doesn't..." he said uncertainly. "Bloody hell, I didn't want to have to say this now. Or ever, actually. But I feel the same way about you as I feel about Hermione. I've wanted both of you for so long, but I knew it wouldn't work. You two wouldn't want me."
After all the emotions that had been laid out, Harry wasn't expecting more, but more than that he wasn't expecting these. "I've felt the same way," he confessed, and his hands found their way to Ron's shoulders, holding tightly onto them despite the thin layer of cold water that chilled his wrinkled fingertips. "I didn't want to ruin anything by confessing it, because you and Hermione are the best things that have ever happened to me and I didn't want to lose you. Both of you mean so much to me, and I'm so happy you two got together, but I do wish I could be there too."
"If she said yes I would let you be with us in a heartbeat," Ron said without thinking, and once more he froze as he poured his heart out.
Silence followed as they looked at each other, uncertain of what to say or where to go. It had been easy to address the emotions they'd shared before, which were rooted in things that didn't need to be confronted. The joy of being reunited and the relief of him escaping the ministry's bounty hunters were all positives without anything to dwell on save for the fact that the trio was once more whole. But confessions of romantic feelings and all the insecurities and angst that kept them from being acted on weren't so easy to do.
"Maybe we should dry off and have shirts on before we continue this," Ron said, trying to help ease the moment with some humour, and Harry eased up a little. Just him and Hermione alone in the tent had certainly left the dynamic a little unbalanced, and Ron's return would help the mood greatly.
"You're right. Should we talk to Hermione about this, too?"
Ron wished he could be there for moral support and comedic relief, but Harry had dug right in to ask how they should handle Hermione, and he was left with no choice but to be honest. After so long away, he couldn't be anything else. "We'll have to."
"And if she doesn't like it?"
"Then there's still us."
It was an almost ominous note to leave on, but were they to stay any longer, there was the risk of catching cold, so they gathered up their clothes and headed back to the tent, where Hermione didn't even let them get a word in before she laid into Ron with all the fury in the world. Harry stared in speechless shock as Ron just accepted Hermione's thrashing, likely because he felt that after running, he deserved it. Or maybe he knew that the brunette could only go so long in chastising him before her screaming gave way to tears, at which point her arms were tight around Ron and her face was buried against his bare chest, which had been toweled off but still felt a little chill to the touch. She joined the boys in the incredibly high-running and exhaustive emotional release of Ron's return. Or at least, she thought she was, until after Ron explained his run-in with the bounty hunters, but still had more to talk about. "About them".
There was no easy way to approach what they wanted to say, and it was hard to get a read on Hermione as she sat there, nodding and giving them their team to speak, partly to hear them out fully, and partly from the pure exhaustion, the chance to just listen and not have to fret over responding. They took the fact she wasn't cutting in or running or doing anything else that could have spelled disaster as a good sign, until finally they had made their cases and Hermione just took them both by the hand, her weary smile all the confirmation either of them needed.
"It shouldn't have taken us all this long," she said sagely. "We could have saved a lot of trouble and bad relationships with other people if we just came out with it." Leaning back in her seat, she sighed, eyes closing as she held tightly onto their hands. "But I was just as afraid. There was no way of knowing if either of you would be okay with something like this."
"So we're doing it, then?" Harry asked. "The three of us, together?"
Ron shrugged, his grip shifting to hold tightly to Hermione's hand. "I'm game."
"Then yes," Hermione said, and the first smile she'd genuinely had in far too long graced her face. "We're doing this."
In the catharsis of their confessions, they forgot one key factor: nobody knew where to go from there. Silence beset the trio as they stared at each other uncertainly, not sure how to progress or what to do. So many questions for the uncertain three, whose luck with relationships had not been amazing, who were all virgins and shambled cluelessly through a whole new world.
Bed seemed like a good idea, both for the closeness and intimacy, and because the night toiled on and the day had taken much out of them. Ron was pulled down into the middle, a sign of just how much his friends missed him as, now turned lovers, they held tightly onto him from both sides, letting their body warmth slowly ease the last bit of clamminess from his and Harry's skin. They were only fresh pairs of underwear, Hermione down to her bra and panties as they slipped beneath the blanket for that extra bit of assurance their warmth would be locked in. Hands drifted along skin, tender caresses that doubled as expeditions, mentally mapping out how bodies they had long thought about felt to the touch. Nobody was sure how to progress, and for all their talk of finally getting things out in the air, the three Gryffindors were suddenly rather short on the courage to just push through and be the first.
Harry had spent so long sitting on the edge of what he always felt to be the inevitable result of his two best friends pairing off and leaving him to find someone other than them, even though there were no people he would have wanted to be with more than them. They were everything to him; after Hagrid, Ron was the first person in his life to show him true kindness and friendship, and in short order Hermione joined and they became inseparable, fighting through everything together, up to an including a war that he wanted to keep them away from. But there they were, walking into hell with him, Ron giving up seeing his family perhaps ever again, and Hermione sacrificing an entire year of school. They loved him as much as they loved each other, and though he always felt otherwise, there was no difference in those sorts of love.
The girl who had once said that expulsion would have been worse than death had run away with him, and now her fingertips ran along his stomach, tracing along the slight indentations in his abs, which lacked much definition but were still very easy to find. He expected softness in her touch, but she had spent so long gripping at the corners of pages that they felt like the fingers of someone who had worked decades with their hands. Ron's were softer, though his touch wasn't quite so tender, hands bigger and clumsier. Instead of tracing along little lines as he found them, Ron just touched him in a way that told Harry that all his time with the Snatchers had left him fearing above all else for the possibility he would never see Harry and Hermione again.
Fingers gave way to lips, and soon, for all their clueless ambling about, they all knew where this was going, and that even if none of them knew how to take it from there, this was going to be the most incredible night of their lives. Shoulders and hands were pecked at, Hermione trailing kisses along from Ron's right shoulder along his neck before it drifted up to his lips. She remained there a moment before coming back down, pecking along to his left shoulder, and then to Harry's right, to kiss the bespectacled boy as well. His fingers found her bushy, untamable hair as Ron's danced along her back, tapping gently before finding the clasp of her bra and trying to undo it. He gently slid it off of her, her arms reaching up into the air as Harry looked at the two of them.
"You go first," he said, finding the courage in himself to be the first one to need to sit things out.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, leaning down to peck his lips again. She'd tasted Ron's kiss plenty of times, but this was something new, and she was eager to commit the taste to memory.
"Yeah. I'll be fine. You two would have probably done this already if he hadn't left." In truth, he didn't know how 'fine' he would be, but he trusted that now, things were different.
Ron leaned over to follow suit, kissing Harry as he seized Hermione's hip and tried to ease her into his lap. "Thanks, mate."
Everyone's underwear was hastily done away with, taking care of their own to speed things up and remove all the ceremony that may have followed otherwise. As much as they didn't want to race into anything, they were feeling antsy, on the cusp of something they had wanted for so long, and at long last it would be a reality.
Hermione climbed into Ron's lap as the redhead held onto his cock, trying to guide his tip up to her entrance as she settled atop him. They sat there for a second, his head against her folds, both of them sucking in deep breaths in anticipation before his hands fumbled at her hips, holding onto them tight as he urged her downward, a small nod of agreement as they took the plunge together. Hermione sank down and Ron lifted his hips up off the bed, sinking into the slick heat as both of them cried out, gasping at the sudden fullness of penetration, of her slick vaginal walls clenching tightly around his length as it sat buried inside of her. Hermione shuddered atop Ron, pitching forward as her hands settled onto his chest, breath completely lost.
They'd both dreamt of this moment, and their gaze met fiercely as she leaned downward, seizing his lips hungrily. His hands gripped her tightly, and he threw his all into the kiss as he waited for her to be ready. He was surprised she'd taken him all the way in, and read her stillness as apprehension, as trying to get used to him inside of her before she thought about rapidly changing that state. On her own time, he told himself, and enjoyed her lips in the meantime, finding her kiss more clumsy and feverish than it had ever been before. When she lifted her hips up for the first time, she whined a little at the sudden hollowness she felt, of his warm, rigid cock no longer being deep inside of her, and it made her seek to press down and feel it once more even more needily. It was that reunion she sought, pulling back up again as her hands gripped his arms tightly.
Harry kept close by, a little surprised and disappointed in himself. He looked on jealously as Ron and Hermione had their first time together, and though he knew his turn would come soon, he couldn't help but feel like he was once more sitting at the edge, watching his best friends fall in love, leaving him behind without intending to. They touched and kissed each other, moaned into each others' mouths, and began to move in perfect sync, like they were two pieces of a puzzle that came together perfectly. Of course, all the jealous angst in the world couldn't keep his hand off of his own cock; these were the people he loved, if nothing else completely naked and fucking right in front of him, and it was impossible not to masturbate to the sight.
But he was wrong. Ron's hand gently pushed Harry's away, seizing his shaft with his larger, firmer grip, and began to stroke quickly. "You're not a voyeur Harry, you're our boyfriend. Get over here and act like it."
Ron's touch was so different from Harry's own, making him groan as he pitched forward, gasping and shuddering as his chest clenched tight with joy and relief all at once. Hermione's hand found his back as he leaned for the redhead's neck, his tongue sought his pulse it slithered across pale skin, before finding it and beginning to nibble gently at it. His hand drifted up along Hermione's soft skin, kneading firmly along her sides before grabbing her modest breast, which fit perfectly inside of his hand. This was what Harry needed; the involvement, the invitation, the explicit effort made not to make Harry feel like he could join, but that he was a part of it. Harry's whole life was a flirtation with exceptions, a celebrity in a world he didn't know existed, who had taken up the mission of bringing Voldemort down a second time. But to these two, he was just Harry; to them, he was special for who he was, and they loved him for it, not for the circumstances surrounding his parents' death.
Once she was comfortable enough, Hermione was moving quickly, Ron rocking upward beneath her as he met her thrusts. His hand remained tightly gripping her hip as the other gave his new boyfriend a sorely needed wank, surprised by just how pent up and needy Harry had become, throbbing in his hand and assaulting his neck like that. A fiery and needy Harry who would most certainly need Ron's cock next to help calm him down, and though it was a difficult task, Ron would find the strength within himself to do his duty. Once he was done with Hermione, of course. Unwound, ragged Hermione, who had never looked so gleefully free as when she was riding his cock, all restraint and composure gone, hair even more disheveled than usual. And she was moaning. Loudly, too. Her head was tilted back as she cried to the heavens.
Unable to resist, Harry leaned up, latching to her neck and doing much the same thing he had to Ron, who now bore several bite marks across his neck. Her pulse was easier to find too, and he went eagerly to work, the hand not kneading her breast running down to his boyfriend's balls, where he firmly began to caress and fondle, making sure he was giving something to both of them as he impatiently waited out their turn together. But his eager, imposing touch only helped them draw closer to release, and soon he got to bear witness to their simultaneous climaxes.
Ron grunted, feeling his balls tighten as Harry grabbed a hold of them, but though he felt his stirring, Hermione's orgasm technically came first. Her hot, slick inner walls tightened down hard, clenching around his cock and trying to milk it of its payload as she cried out in a way that was so heavily emotional that it was almost un-Hermione-like, albeit incredibly hot. She bounced on his dick frantically, holding hard onto Ron's chest and Harry's back as pleasure surged in waves that seemed to rob her of all control over herself, leaving her in trembling bliss as the vice grip of her snatch drew Ron's seed afterward, flooding her dripping, needy hole with all of the hot, thick seed it craved.
Hermione gasped and shuddered as she rolled off of Ron, breathless and content. She wasn't sated fully by any means, but she was more than happy taking her turn out; watching Harry and Ron have sex was a bit of a long-held fantasy for hers. As she lay in her bed at night, fingers deep inside of herself, she would imagine Ron bent over the headboard, his cock pointed down directly at her face, while Harry pounded him fiercely from behind, making it bounce and ache before one final throb signaled his end, Ron emptying his balls all over her smiling face. "Take him," she said to Ron. Reaching for her bag off the side of the bed, she produced a bottle of lube that she'd had just in case anything were to happen between her and Ron that would necessitate its use. She was always prepared. "Here."
Harry was rolled onto his back by an eager Ron, who had really only gotten fired up after his first orgasm. A wet noise accompanied the application of lube onto fingers that were quickly sank into Harry, pumping quickly and feverishly as he prepared him without any sense of patience left, and Harry couldn't blame him; he'd have done the same.
The fingers came out, and Ron's cock came in. Very slowly this time, stretching Harry's virgin ass out steadily as the boy who lived gasped and squirmed beneath him. Their lips met, Harry grabbing a handful of red hair as he hungrily tasted Ron's mouth, his bottom lip quivering as he felt the hot, rigid shaft plunge deep into him. "It's better than I imagined," he said below his breath.
And that was before the thrusts began. Once they did, his toes were curling as Ron fucked him. In lieu of any real sense of what to do, they just went fast and hard, but that was fine for Harry, whose hands went to his boyfriend's ass, squeezing the cheeks and trying to urge him deep into his own rear faster, loving the intense friction of the thick cock spreading him open, pumping quickly in and out. His own shaft, pressed between their bodies, oozed pre all over his stomach as Ron was in him again and again, each time making his body shake from the force of it. If the cover up for their mutual lack of experience was to just fuck wildly, Harry could love with that.
Hermione sat behind her boys, watching the rapid rise and fall of Ron's ass as he plunged into Harry, her fingers gladly deep inside of herself, toying with the cum he'd deposited there. It was quite the show, but she found herself wanting to be more than a mere watcher of the action. As her eyes watched, the most filthy of thoughts came across her mind, and she bit her lip at even the mere idea of performing such an act. "Harry, pull his cheeks apart," she said, and though the black-haired boy didn't know why, he did as his girlfriend asked. Crawling forward, Hermione got in on the action in a way she had never conceived of until that moment, sticking her tongue out and taking a long lick up Ron's ass.
"Oh, f-fuck!" Ron cried, tearing away from the kiss as he looked over his shoulder to where his girlfriend had her face between his parted cheeks, kissing and lapping at his puckered hole. It was a pleasure he had never thought of either, but it felt better than it had any right to, a perfect complement to Harry's tight anal walls gripping his cock greedily as he thrust deep into him. "When we're done Hermione's got to do this for you, Harry."
"Or you could do it to me while I'm on top of her," Harry retorted.
Ron hadn't thought of that either, but the thought of Harry fucking Hermione while Ron dug into his ass, eating out the mess he'd left there... He couldn't even form words around his reaction, his hand grabbing Harry's hair and tilting his head back as he dove for his neck, letting his frantic actions speak for themselves. Harry was the only one whose neck wasn't adorned by bite marks, and Ron eagerly changed that, nibbling and nipping all over as he continued to fuck him as hard as he could, knowing his hips weren't going to last forever but that he would milk every last drop of energy he had out of them to help get his boyfriend off.
Hermione's hand slid between her boyfriends, finding Harry's cock and gripping it eagerly, her strokes frantic in an attempt to match Ron's pace that was undercut only by the fact that the redhead's stuttering hips were moving too wildly for her to predict. It led to him unexpectedly backing his ass into her face, and she began to wonder if it was intentional, not that that stopped her from rimming him wholeheartedly. There was something freeing in being this lurid and trying something so far removed from her usual bearings.
Between the handjob and getting fucked, Harry never stood a chance, especially since he was still carrying over pleasure from the previous round. And he came, writhing beneath Ron and gasping for air as his cum spurted all over the boys' chests, splattering in thick ropes as Hermione wrung his cock with her hand, strokes heavy and tight and fast as he came. Ron was right behind him, once again a victim to a clenching hole tightening down around his aching shaft, throbbing as he blew his load deep into Harry's bowels without a second thought, his teeth sinking down hard into his neck as he did so. The added bonus of Hermione eating his ass certainly helped him finish quickly, and even he had to take a breath after two successive, powerful orgasms.
They all disengaged, breathless and ragged, this time with Harry in the middle. It seemed like a necessity, just to reinforce that he was a part of this now. He had no doubts, but they weren't going to take any chances as they met in a sloppy three-way kiss, Ron and Hermione leaning over their boyfriend. Suddenly, calmness was upon them, and a third round didn't seem quite so necessary. There would be more days to come, more nights they would share in the one bed they now slept in. Until then, they would have the warmth of their soft cuddle pile, blankets being pulled back over their bodies as they settled in for the long, warm night together.
It wasn't the chaos of the day that had transpired or exhaustion, both physical and mental, that eased the trio down into their incredibly restful sleep. It was the security and peace of the three of them finally together, of a great weight lifted from their shoulders as they settled down into the most right thing they had ever done.