Love and Hate

AN: I present you with a very emotional and schmooshy Draco—and it's no schmooshy-rub-off from Ron! Nope, all Draco-schmooshy :D And also: two of the scenes from this chapter are hard M, so beware for the sex that will be explicit!

Also, to: kittenonabroomstick: I was planning on making Sirius a pregnant bitch :D So he could nag since Remus only tops one out of three times—he'd go on and on about it, seriously—but apparently most people want our teenagers to have kids so: major dilemma.

AN: I noticed all of you kinda suddenly realised Harry isn't there. Well, too bad, Harry's dead. Coughcough—no seriously, I didn't mean that. Darn, I'd hate to slay Harry off—I wanna see his stupid face when he realises his best friend is shagging his arch nemeses good—let's give Ron some credit eh? Now, for real: after the holiday they're starting their sixth year at Hogwarts. After the fourth year, you'll remember Harry came in a bit later, right? So, I'm pretending that Harry's being left alone at the Dudley's for a month or so :D Evil me. So, not to fret, he'll be there soon—Ahoy! On to the chapter!

When Draco came down the next morning he felt Molly's eyes on his back the entire time. He entered the kitchen in his pyjama's, the maroon short riding low on his hips, and was greeted by Sirius jumping on him. Spluttering he hugged the overenthusiastic man back. Misses Weasley usually said hi and asked him about his night—now she ignored him completely. But whatever, if she wants to be that way, fine.

"Good morning?" Draco tried, but Molly didn't reply. Draco chuckled, murmuring: "great. Now I'm being ignored by the mother."

Sirius gave him a sympathetic look—of course he'd heard about Molly and Arthur's response to their son's revelation—he felt quite sorry for the blonde. He knew how sucky it was to have the parents against you. Remus' parents didn't like him at all in the beginning, so he could relate.

But when Molly set the frying pan down on the table with a loud 'clunk'—the twins, Ginny and Hermione jumped, looking at her in surprise, while Ron frowned at his mother—and glared at Draco, Sirius really felt bad for him.

"You," Molly hissed, and Sirius wanted to stop her from saying anything, but couldn't. "Corrupted my boy!"

"I didn't do a thing," Draco snapped. "You're the sex-addict! Seven children, and then I'm the one who corrupts your son?" Molly blushed a deep red and Sirius' mouth dropped—just like Ginny's, and the twins sniggered softly. "You're insane Misses, and now I'd appreciate it if you didn't yell at me."

She gave him a last look before scampering off. Draco rolled his eyes, and Sirius opened his mouth.

"Don't say it," the blonde looked at him. "I really don't need to know."

Sirius sighed and hugged Draco again, and it feels oddly comforting. Because fighting with your boyfriend's mother really isn't good—even if you're not sure how you feel about having one.

Hermione looked at Ron, and swore she'd ask about it later—she had to know what was going on, or she'd possibly die of curiosity—you know, like the cat.

--

"Draco?" Sirius asked, pushing the door open a bit. He wasn't too shocked to find that the boy was unpacking—he'd been doing that a lot these last days, and Sirius saw it as a sign that he was really accepting the loss of his parents.

"Mmm," Draco put a book on one of the stacks he was making. "Come in."

Sirius smiled and sat down on his bed, observing him before moving on with the conversation. He was busy with his literature, dividing it in school-books, novels, and children's-books—like fairytales.

"I wanted to talk to you about Molly," Sirius went on. "You have to give her some time—this isn't really what she was expecting—she always thought Ron'd end up with a girl. And if he'd go for a boy she hadn't expected it to be you."

"Yeah well, you think I just suddenly decided to fall in love with freckle-face?" Draco frowned. "No. But I got over it—without yelling at myself too much."

"I know Draco," Sirius sighed. "But being the mother in such a situation is harder than being the boyfriend—definitely when the boyfriend is you. You've always been strong about things like this."

"Fine," Draco got up. "I'll be nice to her—I still have the purse. Maybe I can try to bribe her."

Sirius laughed and nodded, saying: "you should do that. Maybe it'll actually work."

Draco gave him a smile, and went over to his closet, deciding that yes, maybe I should bribe the mother—after all, Ron is really good to me, I should do my best to love the parents.

After he'd gotten out the purse, he left the room together with Sirius. Sirius went to his own room, and Draco went down the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, he saw that Molly was back, doing the dishes. Ginny and Hermione were still there, talking about some magazine, but they looked up as he entered.

"Misses Weasley," Draco leaned on the counter next to her. "I want to offer my apologies. I shouldn't have called you and your husband sex-addicts. I'm hardly one to talk, really," she looked up, looking at him in question—okay, that was a dirty pun. I should try to behave. "And if I did, somehow, corrupt your son in any way, I'm sorry about it. But if this is your idea of corruption I have to say that I'm going to continue to corrupt him in the future."

"Mister Malfoy," Molly started in her I'm-your-mother-therefore-your-boss tone. "I don't know what you think an apology is, but that certainly wasn't it."

"Oh, I see," Draco nodded. "I think there's a misunderstanding here—you think I'm going to apologise for what you call corrupting your son?" she nodded. Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look. "But I'm not—when I said 'apologise' I meant about the sex-addict thing. Please accept this gift as prove of my sincere regrets." He handed her the purse.

"You... you're not going to stop, are you?" Molly asked, looking down at the gift—she sounds like she talking about a serial killer, for Merlin's sake!

Draco shook his head, offering her a small smile.

"Nope. But don't worry—I'm really not that awful," he took one of her dishes and a towel. "I have all this good things going for me. I'm an orphan, which means no nasty relatives to deal with," he started drying the plate. Yeah, joke about your dead parents. Haha. Bastard—he tried to ignore he'd just scolded at himself, and continued with the list. "I'm blonde, which means everyone thinks I'm stupid—that naturally makes me look smarter," Ginny shrugged and Hermione frowned. "I'm exceedingly handsome," at this Ron entered the kitchen, giggling at his next comment: "and a Malfoy—therefore known as a sex-God."

"You're promoting yourself to my mother?" Ron said in disbelief, flopping down next to Hermione. "What is this Malfoy, the Chippendales?"

"Oh shut it Weasel," Draco stuck out his tongue, taking a new plate. "I'm convincing your mother of my many qualities."

"And of course," Ginny grinned. "Our mother really needs to know about your abilities in bed."

"Indeed she does," Draco nodded sincerely. "It's really half of my charm—the fact that you know how great I fu—"

"That's enough!" Molly interrupted. "Thank you mister Malfoy, for the wonderful speech, and the purse—I'm sorry I shouted at you, but please, watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry. I won't say fuck anymore," Draco grinned and Ginny laughed. "Fuck, now I said it again."

Molly glared, and left again—though Draco couldn't help chuckling as he continued drying the dishes. Upsetting Molly was just too much fun.

"What was your argument about, anyways?" Ginny asked suddenly, looking up at the blonde.

Draco tipped up an eyebrow—what should I say?—and put the dry plate down. He felt a little strain in his elbow, and knew it was still purple—even though Ron had yet to notice.

"About a fight your brother and I had." He said simply, hoping it would suffice—he didn't have to badmouth Ron unless it was absolutely necessary, after all, he treats me well and doesn't insult me either.

"Oh and what—" Ginny cut short when Draco dropped a plate, his elbow twitching mercilessly.

He dropped through his knees from the sheer pain of the impact, growling darkly at anything that would listen. Ron was to his feet in no time, grasping Draco to help him up.

"What's wrong?" He asked worried, but Draco pushed him away.

"Don't touch me, stupid prick," he was pissed off and in pain—no way he'd let Ron get close. Now was a time to badmouth because the boy didn't even realise how badly he'd hurt him. "It's your fault to begin with!"

"What?" Ron frowned, putting his hands in his side.

"Remember when I was 'invading your breathing space'?" Draco spat, scrambling to his feet. "You fucking bruised my elbow, insensitive sod!"

"Insensitive? You didn't tell me you were hurt!"

"Well you were too busy thinking about your dick to notice!" Draco threw a wet plate at him, before storming out of the kitchen.

--

This was not the right time for this, Draco knew—but it couldn't be helped. He was pissed at Ron, and now he'd have to be alone with the Weasleys. But seriously—it wasn't anyone's fault Remus would become a werewolf that night, and Draco really wanted Sirius to be able to take care of him. So he said goodbye to them after breakfast, kissing their cheeks and hugging Remus extra-tight—he told him he hoped he'd be okay, and told Sirius to take good care of him—he meant both of it, because he'd grown so fond of them, he hated to think of them in pain.

After he'd waved them off, he went into the living room. Remus had borrowed him a nice squeally novel that Draco was dying to read—he might as well do so now, since he had nothing better to do.

He'd just made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, curling himself up, when Ron entered the room. Draco ignored him but he went over, kissing his cheek—to Draco's surprise: he usually bribed him into talking when he was angry, afraid Draco would hit him—and going over to the table where he'd left his chessboard.

"Hermione wants to play chess," he explained, though Draco hadn't asked. The blonde tipped up his eyebrow curiously—he has to be up to something. "Are you having fun?"

Draco just frowned and Ron chuckled, going over to the door—though he kissed Draco's cheek on his way out once more. The blonde was left alone in utter confusion, what the hell was that?

--

It was far past midnight when Draco's bedroom door suddenly opened. He was sitting on the bed, reading Remus' novel, and freaked slightly until he noticed the red hair and the familiar auburn pyjamas—maybe now I'll find out what the niceness earlier was all about. Ronald shot him a grin, carrying a white plastic bottle. Muttering something Draco noted he locked the door and sealed it with a silence-spell. Then he went to the bathroom without commenting or saying hi, which made Draco frown as he sat up straight. He waited—not so patiently—for Ron to return and when he did, his frown grew and he crawled over to the end of the bed.

"Undress." Ron said and handed him the white towel he had brought from the bathroom. The redhead quickly pecked Draco on the lips and flopped down next to him.

"Excuse me?" Draco tipped up his eyebrow in disbelief, the typical Malfoy-sarcasm drawling through—he decided not to be angry with the redhead anymore, but instead I can just question his sanity.

"You can dress in the towel," Ron pointed at the white fabric. "Come on."

"What on earth would I do that for?" He looked down at it in distaste, and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Just do it—otherwise I can't thank you for being nice to my mother."

Now, that changed the situation quite a bit. Any gift that involved him naked had to be good. So he quickly got up, undid his shirt, and draped the towel around his waist before disposing of his boxers.

"That looks really bad," Ron said, inspecting the purple elbow. Draco nodded, and the redhead reached out to pull him onto the bed again. "I'll make you feel better. Lie down on your stomach."

Draco did as he was told—though with a small frown still present. He had no idea what Ron was up to, and though he knew Ron wouldn't hurt him it frightened him a bit. He was even more surprised when Ron himself stripped down to his underwear. Then he sat down on Draco's legs and took the white bottle. He heard the cork being undone and sniffed—an eucalyptus sent filled the air.

Ron poured some of the oil on his hand, focussing on the given task. He rubbed his palms together, warming the liquid before carefully moving against Draco's pale back. The boy relaxed immediately and gave a content purr when Ron started on his tense shoulders. Feeling the positive reaction to his treatment Ron smiled, and fully indulged himself in massaging the lithe body underneath him.

Draco closed his eyes, surrendering to the feeling of Ron's hands on his body. He was really making him feel amazing—the slick movement's against his back, teasing down his sides. These touches were usually rough and uncoordinated and meant to make you go ohohohohoh!—and even though he loved erratic moves, these were great too.

When he was done with the blonde's back, the oil leaving a sheen layer on the marble skin, he told Draco to turn around and started on his chest. He noticed the boy had closed his eyes, mouth opened slightly in bliss—and as goofy as he might feel, it made him smile widely. After his chest he started on the legs, first the left one, then the right. Reaching the towel he suddenly shifted uncomfortably, his hands settling on the blonde's knee.

Draco noticed the change in his behaviour, and opened an eye realising he was nervously ogling the towel—is he seriously scared to see me naked? He chuckled and Ron looked down—seeing the smile on the otherwise serious face made him smile again too, and he slipped his hand between Draco's thighs. His other hand worked the towel away and Draco closed his eyes—he knew Ron would now be fully aware of how much he'd been enjoying those hands on his skin, and was surprised when he felt soft lips on his jaw.

Ron's hand continued his work, his thumb putting pressure against the taut muscles as he kissed his way down Draco's neck softly. He's never been this sweet to me—it's never been so slow and soft. The redhead's hand sneaked higher, between his buttocks and Draco groaned softly—he tried to not make too much noise, but he could only imagine how good this was going to be, and it was already driving him insane. One hand held up his leg, continuing to caress his thigh as he entered a finger in the blonde's body. Draco fisted the sheets and his thighs quivered as he fought to keep as still as possible. He was used to this, yet it felt slightly odd in the beginning—even if it always makes me want to cry out for him again and again.

He moved his finger in and out, crocking it slightly every time again. When Draco's whole form shook and lifted off the bed, he kissed his knee—caressing it and keeping it against his hip—and slipped a second digit in, using the warm oil as lubricant. His kisses stayed on Draco's face, burning against his flesh and leaving invisible marks forever. His hands were warm on the blonde's knee and inside his body, sizzling and searing making him Ron's—and maybe it's a good thing. Draco bit his lip to keep himself from making noise, but silent purrs and little moans still escaped, urging Ron on. He scissored his fingers, and inserted a third one, causing Draco's chest to heave and his breath to hitch. Ron paused, shifting between Draco's legs more comfortably, attaching his lips to the boy's thigh in distraction. When Draco gave another low groan, Ron moved his fingers again, kissing his temple.

Draco's eyes rolled back when Ron pulled the digits out, and he leaned his body closer to the blonde's, pulling his boxers off. He wrapped his legs around Ron's back, his thighs clamping against Ron's tanned hips for leverage. When the redhead pushed against him he started shaking all over, a shock beginning at his spine and running up, as his thighs too shook from the impact. Ron applied more oil and easily entered, shifting and burying himself completely in one go. Draco's chest was pounding and Ron watched in fascination at his face. He was biting his lip again, eyes dark and glittering, staring up at Ron. He put a hand against Ron's stomach, his other one roving over his back.

Ron smiled down, before kissing the corner of his mouth and moving slowly in and out of him. Draco tried not to make a sound—we're supposed to be stoic, but it wasn't helping because Ron's loving was so good, and he hit all the right spots, making all the hairs on his body rise, tingling his nerves' ends.

"Ro—ron," Draco said quietly, arching his chest closer to the other's form. Ron's eyes were still on him, and he wiped some hair from the blonde's forehead. "Why are you so gentle?"

He didn't mean it as rejection, because it was actually perfect for me.

"You don't like it?" Ron stopped his lazy thrusts, leaning up on his elbows.

"No, it's really nice." Draco admitted, hoping he would start his movements again.

"This is good?" Ron asked still somewhat unsure.

Draco nodded, and as if to prove his point he mewled hoarsely when Ron started thrusting his hips again. He kept going at a slow pace, making love to the blonde gently. He took Draco as softly as he could, hoping to make it as fantastic as possible. Draco's hands kept on moving against his chest and back, and his moans got louder as he neared his completion.

Ron kissed his jaw again, his hands on the other's thighs. They were sweaty against his own hips but he stroked them, coaxing the blonde closer to the edge. He loved the way it made the lithe body arch and shake. And the noises Draco made were heaven to his ears, prove that this was really as good to Draco as it was to Ron. The room was thick with the scent of eucalyptus and sweat, the sounds of their lovemaking filling the air.

"Ron I..." Draco huffed suddenly—he needed to say it, even if he was scared to. He'd been thinking about it and he just had to say it—he'd made his mind up and Ron needed to know. Even though he thought the world might just end if he'd tell Ron what was in his head, he had to—because he's 

making this perfect, just for me, so that has to mean something. Ron smiled, kissing him softly before letting one of his hands reach down between their bodies. He carefully stroked over the pale groin, touching Draco's flushed flesh and the blonde moaned loudly, eyes closing immediately. He was so close but... I can't—he opened his eyes again, trying to regain some breath, as he locked his gaze with Ron's. "I love you."

And behold, the world did not end. He had expected Ron to leave, to yell and pull away. No galaxies were ending and he could feel his heart stop because Ron's smile just grew. He let his body rest on top of Draco's as he continued moving inside of him. He brought his mouth to Draco's ear, hand moving over the blonde's length.

"I love you too." He whispered, lips touching the shell—and Draco came undone.

He'd never known how much impact those words could have on him—even Ron was surprised—as he gasped loudly, eyes rolling back and lips parting. He forced Ron's body down on his own completely, shaking and shivering violently as he came hard. The shudders drew through his body even after his climax, and he couldn't help but call Ron's name—screaming his lungs out to make it more real. And he started sobbing as soon as his voice stilled, tears leaking down his cheeks. All he wanted to do was curl up and sink away from the world, but at the same time he wanted Ron between his thighs forever.

The sound of his name ripping from the blonde's rosy lips pulled Ron over the edge too, and he groaned against Draco's shoulder, moaning his name. They trembled together, bodies worn and spent. Ron heard Draco's silent sniffles and turned on his side, pulling out carefully. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he didn't want to leave Draco when he was so emotionally drained.

"Don't cry Love," he whispered, voice still hoarse. He wrapped his arms around Draco's quivering form protectively. "It's okay."

"It's not," Draco protested, burying his head in the sweaty chest. "I'm not supposed to love you. If my aunt found out she'd—"

"But you're not with your aunt now," Ron kissed his head softly, trying to get him to look up. "You're with us and this is right. Please don't cry. I hate to think I left you so hurt."

"You didn't, it was really..." he rubbed his cheek against the redhead. "But what about your mother?" Draco asked, sniffling still.

"Don't worry about her," he shrugged, wiping the tears from his face, and Draco finally looked up at him. "I'm sure you convinced her of your many talents, definitely with your reputation as sex-God."

Draco laughed too, a last sob leaving his body.

"That was a joke."

"I disagree." Ron grinned sheepishly, and Draco laughed again, putting his hands against Ron's chest.

"Oh really?" He questioned. "What's so good than?"

"About everything," Ron kissed his forehead affectionately. "I love the way your legs shake when I touch you there," he suddenly whispered huskily, mood changing from loving to seductive—his hand going down to Draco's buttocks, sliding between them. And indeed, his thighs started quivering uncontrollably. "And the way they tighten around me when I enter," Draco gasped at his comment, kissing one of his nipples and closing his eyes. He really loved everything about the redhead. From his voice to the hand on my thigh. "All those lovely noises you make, and the way I know I'm the first ever to see you like this, panting and sweating and completely exposed and vulnerable, just for me," Draco's blue eyes wandered up to Ron's face, and he noticed Ron was smiling down at him. "I love the way I know I'm the first to ever make you feel like this. The first one to touch your pale skin and get you to cry out in that special way you do," he turned on his back, pulling the smaller body on top of his own. "I just love you—that's what makes it perfect."

"Ron," Draco's voice was still a bit hoarse—and he was afraid again, because even though Ron loved him, that did not mean he wanted what Draco did. "Please, will you stay for the night?"

"I'd love to," he closed his eyes, making himself more comfortable—his body was hot, and there was another hot body on top of his own and everything was just hot. It would be stifling, if it wasn't the good kind of hot, that makes your body tingle because you've just been in heaven. "I though you'd never ask."

Draco grinned, now completely confident that this is good, and we're in love, nothing can take this away. He sat up, straddling the sweaty, tanned hips, and fanning some cool air to his face. His whole body had a red blush to it, due to Ron's fine lovemaking.

"I'm gonna get some sparkling water," he said, getting from the boy's lap. "Do you want some too?"

Ron shook his head tiredly, and Draco sought some boxers to put on—even though everyone would be asleep, he didn't want to go around walking naked: what if some of the death relatives were still awake? He noticed that it was almost morning already, and vaguely wondered how Remus was—full moon is long gone by now, would he have hurt himself a lot?—though he dismissed the thought, knowing Sirius was taking care of him.

Before he could pull up the underwear, Ron took his hand, kissing it at the knuckles—his eyes were still closed, and he murmured: "come back soon, okay?"

"Sure." Draco smiled, kissing the redhead's temple.

He took a handkerchief, cleaning his stomach—it had some come on it—as good as he could. When he left his room he noticed it weren't his own boxers he'd put on, but shrugged it off—they were rather cute, though a bit loose around his hips. Deep red with a chibby lion-face at the seam, it was quite funny. He got himself a cooled glass of water, and was about to go back to his room when the door opened—turning around, he feared for his life, when he noticed it were... Sirius and Remus?

Sirius was whispering things in Remus' ear, and Draco noticed in distress that Remus could barely stand on his feet. He was wearing Sirius' robe and the raven had put a blanket around him.

"Remus!" Draco went to help out the two men, wondering what had gone wrong. "What happened?"

Sirius shook his head, doing his best to keep the brunette stable—something must've happened. They carried him up the stairs together, his knees sometimes giving way. When they reached Sirius' room, they got him in bed, and Draco watched perplex—glass still in his hand—as Sirius undressed the younger man carefully, and gave him warm pyjamas, tucking him in and kissing his face all the while. Remus appeared to be having some sort of fever—though Draco guessed it was just a side-effect—and was sweating, though shivering and dead asleep.

"Sirius, what happened?" Draco questioned again, his voice shaking slightly. "Why are you back so soon?"

"Greyback found us," Sirius rubbed his forehead in exhaustion. Draco gasped, and helped him get in bed too—it was only now that he noticed the rips in Sirius' clothes. He pulled off his shirt as he continued: "we had to run for it—it was too dangerous to stay in the forest where we went before. Next time we'll have to travel to Hogwarts. It's not safe here anymore—they know where we are, just not how to get in."

"Is there anything I can do to help? Will you be okay? And what about Remus?" He trailed off nervously, just my luck, one thing starts going great, and the other half of my new family gets hurt. He realised once more how off his old relatives had been—and part of him wanted to be mad at his father for making so many mistakes, but he couldn't, because dad tried.

"Draco, it's okay," Sirius smiled, tugging off his jeans. He hugged the boy, cradling him softly. "It will be okay, please don't worry. Go back to Ronald—we'll be fine."

"I...—how did you know?" He stuttered, muttering against the man's tangled hair.

"I doubt there's anyone else that would let you wear their Gryffindor underwear," he grinned slightly, releasing him. "Go back to bed," but when Draco didn't leave he petted his shoulder. "Will it make you feel better if I let you wake us up in the morning," Draco nodded. "It's a deal than," he kissed Draco's cheek, and Draco smiled, going to the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Draco left—he was still worried, but there wasn't anything for him to do.

When he entered the bedroom again, slipping inside with the glass in his hand, Ron had turned on his stomach, the blanket pushed back to the end of the bed. Draco grinned at the boy's beautiful body, his skin still shining with a layer of sweat, his legs opened a bit.

"What took you so long?" Ron muttered, not looking up. He pushed some red hair from his face, turning it to where Draco stood.

"Remus and Sirius are back—something happened and I helped Sirius get Remus upstairs," he sat the water down, straddling Ron's legs and leaning over, putting his head between the tanned shoulder blades. Ron made a noise in the back of his throat, hand snaking around to put it against Draco's hip. "I don't know whether to hate my dad for making all the wrong choices. It's so hard to decide what to feel."

"What?" Ron frowned slightly, opening his eyes—he tried to look at Draco's face, but since he was lying on his back he couldn't.

"I'm asking you how I should feel—I've never lost my parents before. I don't know what to do now." Draco muttered, kissing some of the soft skin—it's a bit salty, and so Ron-ish.

And part of him really wanted to be mad at his father—for Remus was hurt and hadn't his father been pro those that did this to him? Had he not been there himself, evil and constantly ruin the good things families had coming? But how could he hate his father, when he'd always been so good to him?

"Your father loved you," Ron said, completely confident of that fact—he might not have liked the man, but he hadn't known him well either. One thing he'd always been sure of was Lucius' love for his son though. "I'm sure he did whatever he thought was best for you—you love him too. You'll never be able to hate him, because you know he cared for you. Even if he made the wrong decisions—we all make mistakes Drake," Ron felt the silent tears on his skin, and petted the hip lovingly, wanting to turn—he knew it would upset the boy if he did so suddenly, so he didn't. "It's okay to be confused or angry, and no one's going to blame you for being sad, but can you please let me hold you?"

He heard the blonde sniffle, and the weight slowly moved off him. Ron turned around, and Draco immediately crawled on top of him again, burying his head in his chest. He rolled himself up slightly, entwining one of their legs, and Ron softly cradled him, stroking a hand through his blonde hair. Draco sobbed, not really crying—it were more some lost tears falling, and some old sobs leaving. Ron still held him close, closing his eyes.

"I want your sweater," Draco suddenly sniffed, drying his eyes. Ron frowned—he hadn't been wearing his sweater, just an old pyjama-shirt. "It's under my pillow." The blonde explained, and Ron reached over, searching—and indeed.

He extracted the old sweater Draco had 'confiscated until further notice', chuckling.

"You kept this?" He thought the Slytherin would have dumped it ages ago—helping him into the woollen Weasley-clothing he grinned at the puffy-eyed boy.

"It smells like you." Draco said, inhaling deeply to prove his point.

Then they lay down again, Ron's cooling body being completely covered by Draco's reheated one. He fell asleep soon, though Draco's blue eyes stared outside the window for a long time after.

--

When Draco woke up he felt slightly sticky—his ass felt weird, and he remembered he hadn't properly cleaned after sex. His chest was icky too, but only a bit. Ron had a dried up white spot on his stomach and Draco sniggered. He yawned and got up, deciding now was a good time to bring Remus and Sirius some tea—Ron was still dead asleep, so they could shower together later.

Feeling a bit sentimental he kissed the redhead's ear—the boy purred softly, turning to him.

"Ronald, I'm going down and I'm wearing your sweater," Ron nodded, kissing Draco's hand when the boy petted his cheek. "Irritating questions will be asked to you later."

"'s okay, you look hot, so let them nag." Ron gave him a groggy grin and Draco felt an urge to blush—he always says it like he means it and it's great—then left for the kitchen.

When he entered the room he made it a point not to make eye-contact—he would just get tea and ignore all the people. This went rather okay—until people began to notice his outfit for real, and until Charlie and Bill noticed it was the lovely blonde. He didn't even realise they were there—due to the not-making-eye-contact, otherwise he would've greeted them—and got out two cups.

"Don't we get a hello-kiss?" Charlie mocked and Draco's head shot up.

He grinned when he noticed that the two oldest Weasleys were in the kitchen, ignored the twins' shocked glares and Hermione's frown, and went over to peck the men on the cheek. Molly looked absolutely furious—she was the only one realising that the blonde was wearing her son's underwear, all the others were just confused with the red colour of his clothes, and the fact that he wore Ron's 'confiscated' sweater.

"We were just debating whether you have a boyfriend or girlfriend." Bill wiggled his eyebrows—Fred's frown grew, he thought Malfoy looked very post-sex, but sex with who? Surely not... no, it couldn't be Ron, so he quickly abandoned the idea, shivering at the mental-images.

"Are you insinuating that he's gay?" Ginny laughed.

"No, they're insinuating that I'm in love with a boy," Draco glared at the redheaded girl. "I just have a secret lover, that's all," Draco winked at the oldest brothers, going back to his cups. He took the teapot. "He's really cute with broad shoulders and beautiful hair and a really nice ass."

"Or, you're mocking us," Charlie tipped up an eyebrow. "You're such a tease, mister Malfoy."

"I've been told, mister Weasley." Draco replied, pouring the cups. He counted the sugar—Remus likes four lumps and Sirius six—he knew it was insane to remember, but still.

"Aha, so you definitely have a boyfriend!" Bill said triumphantly. "Girls don't tell their boys they're a tease."

"Actually, Blaise says I'm a cock-tease when I'm pretending to be in love with him," Draco shrugged, taking a spoon. "But he's my best friend, not my boyfriend."

He scratched the back of his leg with his foot, the boxers riding up a bit—they really were too big—as he stirred the cups. Bill and Charlie shared a look, grins on their faces.

"So you're just going to keep avoiding our question than?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not avoiding questions," Draco said innocently picking up his cups and heading out. "It just so happens that it's none of your business."

He went up the stairs, and when he reached Sirius' room he pushed the door opened with his foot and elbow, turning the doorknob down. He did his best not to look at the frame with his father in, greeting Sirius, who was sitting up straight in bed. Remus was still asleep, and arm posed around Sirius' hips as he used the man's lap as pillow. Draco handed them the tea, pecking Sirius' cheek as a good-morning, afraid that if I make a sound, Remus might wake up.

Sirius gratefully took the cup, stroking Remus' arm softly. Draco noticed the scratches and swallowed the lump in his throat—how am I supposed to love my father when he took part in all the bad things they ever did?—heading back out. He mouthed an 'I'll come back later' and Sirius nodded, giving him a weak wink. Draco knew he was doing his best to make him feel better, and it's nice of him to try.

--

Draco was almost asleep again, Ron's naked body spooning close against his own clothed one, when he heard the door open. He could feel Ron's head turn and feared for their lives—surely those retarded twins didn't...—and the bed tipped a bit down at the end.

"Mu—mum?" Ron stuttered and Draco did his best not to gasp.

"It's okay Ron," Draco heard her voice, soft and caring—maybe she's okay. He felt a hand on top of the blanket, and knew she thought she was touching her son's leg, though she was touching Draco's. "I haven't come to scold at you. We realise we haven't been too fair with you lately. I know how hard it is for you to find out who you really are—with being one of the youngest, and having five older brothers it can hardly be that easy," the hand stroked against Draco's leg softly—and how long has it been since my mum did that? "I know there is hardly anything you have that is truly yours, and that's not nice of us—we want to apologise, but it's hard."

"Mum, you really don't have to—" Ron began, and Draco could hear the sorry in his voice—he wanted to kiss the redhead and make it better, but Molly interrupted.

"Now please, it's quite alright. I just wanted to come up and tell you this. We'll let you have Draco," and he wanted to die and scream for have I ever been this happy? Ever? He felt Ron's hands tighten around his waist, possessively holding him closer. "Though you've been warned—if he hurts you in any way, I will personally cut off his balls."

Draco made a little 'eep!' sound, and Ron laughed—partly because of his mother's words, but also because he knew the blonde had been listening.

"Now Drake, it's not polite to eavesdrop." Ron chuckled against his ear, and Draco grunted, opening his eyes—Molly just threatened to castrate me! Insane, the whole lot!

Yet she was smiling brightly when their eyes locked. She stood, kissing both of their foreheads, before leaving without another word. When Draco looked up Ron was grinning down at him like a madman—so typical—though he couldn't help the happy smile from forming on his own face.

--

"Sex is really dirty." Draco said pensively.

There was dried-up come on his stomach and between his ass—it felt really sticky, and though it came off easily under the hot water of the shower, it still felt a bit odd.

"Actually, it's really good." Ron answered, kissing the pale shoulder—he rubbed fiercely at his own stomach, cleaning himself with a bar of soap.

Draco merely grunted, really, he couldn't quite contradict the redhead. He looked for another sponge, not sure there was one. He knew he had some sponges in the boxes from his house, but apparently Ron had taken the only one that was to be found in the bathroom. He tapped his foot and stared at said boy, who remained blissfully unaware of the fact that he'd stolen Draco's washcloth.

"Ron, give me back the sponge," Draco glared, eventually shaking the redhead from his thoughts—he'd been standing there with his eyes closed, enjoying the water's stream. "I feel sticky. I need it."

"Hmm." he opened his eyes, and moved closer.

Draco eyed him suspiciously wondering what he was up to—then Ronald kissed his shoulder, and started washing his back. The blonde really wanted to protest, but then again, he was getting cleaned, and those marvellous hands were moving over his thighs—how can I object? When Ron's hands moved over his ass, running in between to remove his own semen Draco started trembling.

"Stop that." He growled darkly, posing his hands against the slick tiled wall to keep from falling.

"What?" Ron asked innocently, sliding the fabric over Draco's bum again. "I'm helping you."

"You're making me hot, stupid bastard." Draco grunted, pushing himself away from the wall.

He wheeled around, pulling the washcloth from Ron's hands. Throwing his arm around the surprised redhead he connected their lips in a searing kiss meshing their wet bodies together.

"That's kinda the point." Ron whispered between their kisses—he tried to get Draco trapped against the wall, but the blonde didn't budge.

Draco separated their mouths and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Oh really? Let's see how he'd like it. He attacked the tanned neck and forced Ron's body to the wall—much like he'd tried seconds ago—trailing down his chest. He heard the boy's breath hitch and grinned. By the feel of his cock against Draco's hand he was positive Ron was turned on. Very positive.

He heard a raspy moan from above him and dropped through his knees, licking at the cute bellybutton. He followed the soft patch of coppery hair, his free hand moving up to his hip to keep him in place. Then he took the pink tip in his mouth and he had to press the boy harder against the wall—he was so close to tumbling down.

Draco revelled in the sound of his own name falling from Ron's lips in a mutter of curses and swears. He remembered why he liked being in control so much—forcing Ron to whimper like that was incredible. Though bottoming for the red was nowhere near bad either—it's the best I've ever felt—and being in control and being dominated were two very different things, but Draco loved both of them. Being pleasured was just as good as pleasuring and he would never get enough of any of the noises Ron made. Whether it was when he was on his knees or when Ron was on his own. It didn't matter.

He ran his tongue up slowly, grazing his teeth over the soft flesh. When he took the whole length in his mouth Ron groaned loudly, his hips bucking with a will of their own. Draco pushed them against the wall harder, and heard Ron's fingers scratch against the tiles, looking for something to hold on to. He continued to bob his head in a steady pace and slid one hand over Ron's thigh, caressing the soft skin—it made Ron arch his back against the tiles, squirming in an uncomfortable angle to get the blonde to hurry up. But Draco was quite enjoying the teasing—that'll teach him to turn me on like that!—and carelessly hummed a happy tune. Ron's strong legs shivered dangerously and Draco decided that maybe he'd teased enough—he could hardly hold the boy up anymore. His voice was still chanting all sorts of nonsensical things, filling the hot air as Draco's mouth moved over his shaft—he's kind of cute when he swears, Draco thought and looked up at Ron's face.

The boy's eyes were wide, his lips parted as he continued muttering. When he realised Draco was looking at him he locked their gazes, trying to grin but failing. Draco drew his lips back to the tip and when he blew softly Ron threw his head back—auw, doesn't that hurt?—and came with a loud moan, calling out the blonde's name.

Draco muttered in dissatisfaction at the sudden outburst—he hadn't felt it coming and most of Ron's semen had managed to avoid the blonde's mouth. He brought his lips to Ron's stomach, cleaning him up and pulled away, releasing his hips. Ron's legs gave way on him, and he slid down the damp tiles to the floor.

He was panting hard and his eyes were a bit unfocused. Draco grinned at his bedazzled look, flopping down next to him as he licked his lips—Ron tasted rather nice. Shuffling around for a moment Ron decided that leaning against his lover's body would be a good move, and he closed his eyes. Draco wrapped an arm around his shoulder and felt Ron's lip kiss his skin sweetly.

"Don't tease again," he whispered, Ron's defences completely broken down. He was post-orgasmic-state: for all he cared Draco was exclaiming the world was about to explode. "Or I'll leave you undone next time."

Ron gave a small nod, too drained to even reply.

So maybe he loved him—he could totally accept that. He could handle being in love with an over-emotional, sad excuse for a human-being. He could handle being in love with Ron. He realised that deciding whether to hate or love his father would come a bit harder on him. Because to him, his father practically equalled love. It was just that the side his father represented happened to be hate.

AN: I have to say, at first I was proud. Seriously—there were these two magnificent hours in which I was dancing around thinking about how great I did with this chapter. Then that came breaking down and I decided I could do so much better and this positively sucked. Ah, the dramatic life of a teenage writer-perfectionist. Pff. Positive attitude my ass!

With this I also want to apologise: I'm sure you all find it too much of a cliché... the whole 'I love you'. But they've never told each other they're in love—and it would be just like Draco, for it to have such an effect on him. So yeah, it seemed right to me.

Omg. Draco wants sparkling water. Wth? I just figured if I said 'water' you guys would freak out and think 'why doesn't he take it from the tap in the bathroom?' so I decided 'sparkling water' was my knight in shinning armour.

Also: How do they not get Ron is shagging Draco senseless? He was running around in the redhead's bloody underwear :o But maybe that's just because they didn't know it was his... oh, but they will soon. Trust me.

So, I'm going to ask again—and again and again—who should be getting a baby? Remus and Sirius, or Ron and Draco? Take the poll on my page if you please, it'd be of great help to me.