Title: Best Of Both Worlds
Ships: Ron/Harry, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG
Warning: Both Slash and Het Pairing (Including Sex), Angst, Adultery, Romance
Word Count: 919
Summary: The man who can keep a secret may be wise, but he is not half as wise as the man with no secrets to keep.
Notes: This chapter has taken me a while, and to be honest, it's horrible. I think I'm losing motivation for this storyline. I think I like writing angst and smut too much for this storyline to work. I've tried to move the plot along with this one but it seems too rushed after all the waiting you've had in previous chapter. gives up Such a dissapointing chapter... when I was so pleased with the last one.
After cleaning ourselves up and getting dressed, Harry and I returned to the living room. We drank a few more glasses of Firewhiskey and watched some rubbish Monday evening television. It was as if the last hour or so hadn't happened, but the awkward tension had left the room. I felt totally relaxed. After a while, I found myself drifting to sleep, having been deprived of my usual post-coital nap.
I woke to someone saying my name quietly in a sing-song voice, and brushing the hair away from my forehead.
"Hmmm?" I mumbled, trying to drag myself into consciousness.
"I made you some coffee," Harry's voice said.
My eyes shot open to see him smiling at me, still stroking the front of my hair with one hand and holding a mug in the other hand. I sat up quickly as my still sleepy mind tried to make sense of my surroundings.
"Careful, mate," Harry yelped, standing up as some of the hot coffee spilt onto his pyjama bottoms. He brushed them off, and then turned back to me.
"Sorry," I shook my head, finally realising where I was and why I was here. "Just wasn't expecting you, that's all. I... erm, I forgot."
"Oh." Harry frowned, and handed me the coffee. "Oh yeah, of course." He strode away into the kitchen and I heard him fussing with drawers and cutlery and plates for a while. And then there was silence.
I smacked myself in the head for being my usual insensitive self, and after a few minutes I stood up and made my own way into the kitchen. Harry was standing facing the sink, staring out of the window. I hesitated near the door for a few seconds, and then decided to take the plunge. I wouldn't let things go back to being all awkward and ridiculous.
"I'm sorry, Harry," I tried, stepping into the room and crossing my arms across my chest.
"What for?" Harry attempted to say it nonchalantly, but I heard the bitterness there.
"I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I was just sleepy and I… I just forgot where I was for a second. I mean, I didn't forget what happened. Well, I did, but not because I wanted to… I just… I…"
"I know," Harry interrupted, still staring in the opposite direction. He swallowed loudly and shook his head. "We shouldn't have done that."
"Shouldn't we?"
"Hermione," Harry said simply. He glanced over his shoulder at me and bit his bottom lip, his eyes slightly watery. "I don't want to hurt her, Ron... and I know you don't want to either."
"No," I admitted. "I don't want her to get hurt. I love her, Harry, but I..."
"Don't!" Harry said quickly. "Don't you dare say something that you don't mean!" He growled, looking down at the sink. "I should've just let you go."
I took a few steps until I was behind him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed beneath me for a second.
"Harry, you would have let me go if I'd wanted to."
I moved my hand down his arm and stepped into him, so that my chest was against his back. I continued to move my hand down his arm until it reached his hand on the sink, and I laced my fingers between his. I wrapped my other arm around his chest and let my hand settle over his heart. I rested my head on his shoulder.
"I love her... but I'm not in love with her anymore."
"How could we have done this to her?" Harry hung his head in front of him.
"I feel awful. I can't even describe how bad I feel." I squeezed my eyes shut as the guilt rose in me until I thought I tasted bile in the back of my throat. "But Harry? I wouldn't have done his with just anyone. Why would I risk everything I have on some stupid, crazy whim? I wanted it, mate. I wanted you." I moved my hand up and down his chest slowly; he turned his hand to close around mine on the edge of the sink.
"What are we going to do?" Harry whispered. "She'll be crushed. She loves you so much. We both know that she'll find out one way or another, and when she does, we'll deserve everything she throws at us."
"I know," I said. "I'll have to tell her."
"What?"
"I think it's only fair that I tell her. She'll be hurt enough as it is. If she has to find out from somebody else it will kill her."
"But, Ron, she'll kill you."
"I can think of worse she might do." I closed my eyes and had a brief image of Hermione turning her wand on me and using the Cruciatus Curse. I'd deserve it. "Besides, don't you think it's worse for me to carry on pretending that I want her, pretending I'm in love with her... when really I'm in love with you." I was surprised that this admission had come so easily, and so quickly. When I took a second to think about it, I realised it had been true for a lot longer than I'd realised.
Harry was silent for a long time. Then, slowly, he turned his head to look at me.
"You don't have to say that."
"I know." I squeezed his hand, and leant forwards to brush my lips against his gently. "I love you, Harry."
