Author's Note: Whew! This one turned out a bit longer than I intended. Sorry it took a bit more time than I meant it to. Part of the reason it's late was the fact that I had a presentation yesterday with a group project, and none of my group did their fucking work. Makes me feel like some sort of maniac just because I'm trying to pick up the slack for everybody else. GAH. Anyways, It think you'll find the second half of the chapter a bit...worth the wait.
Everyone looked at each other. Each stare seemed accusing, as if to say who's fault it was really. Harry wondered what was going to happen. He knew he certainly hadn't told anyone. Why would he even want to?
And Ron rarely talked of his own house, let alone bragged of its location to anyone at school. Harry suspected he was slightly ashamed of it, though he didn't know why. The whole 'poor' thing seemed so played up by Malfoy that no one believed it was true. Plus, the Burrow was a hell of a lot nicer than the Dursleys' home, and they were considered well-off as far as muggles went. Seven children and the Weasleys were able to house them all comfortably. Harry would trade lives with Ron any day.
But then Harry's eyes fell on Ginny, and he felt that sneaking suspicion again in the pit of his stomach. Ron looked at her too, and Harry noticed a frown this time. Was he beginning to suspect her as well?
"Now I realize that some of you may have confided in close relationships, or in order for communication, so I would simply like to go around and we will make judgments from there as to what else may have happened. Also, bear in mind, no one is at fault here. This house is still quite safe, as well as everyone inside it. We simply want to prevent it from happening in the future," Dumbledore said calmly, giving a reassuring smile. "Why don't we start with you, Molly?"
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley looked rather surprised. "Well…yes…let's see…I believe I told Amos so that his owl would be able to find us. He gets rather lonely ever since…well…"
Harry swallowed slightly. Cedric hadn't been brought up in conversation for a while. He hadn't even thought of how Amos Diggory would be handling his death…
"Yes, but he would never tell," Mrs. Weasley continued. "He despises the Prophet lately."
"Very good," Dumbledore nodded. "Arthur?"
"Hmm…I told Perkins at the office since he visits for tea sometimes. But he doesn't know Harry's staying here. We kept that quite secret in case…well, something like this, I imagine," Mr. Weasley said warily. "I highly doubt he would inform the Prophet if he did know anyways, but I was cautious."
"Very good. Perhaps, if all else fails, we should speak with him and be certain he didn't accidentally inform someone else. However, it was good that Harry's visiting was a secret," Dumbledore said politely.
Harry slumped in his chair. This was all a mess…
The fact that the Weasleys had to be so secretive meant that they were tiptoeing around because of him. He was causing rifts in their communication, their friendships, and even instilling suspicions that probably weren't even necessary. Not only that, but it had still failed, which only caused the family more grief. He felt horribly guilty…
Bill said that he had only told Fleur so that they could speak through the Floo on Christmas. Fleur had promised not to tell anyone else, and had informed Bill to "say 'ello to 'Arry" for her.
Charlie hadn't felt the need to tell anyone, since his usual residence was on the Dragon reserve with the other trainers. Ron smirked at this, after which Charlie seemed to get a bit flustered.
Then, it was Ginny's turn.
"I don't usually tell anyone anyways," she said, shaking her head and shrugging. "It wasn't me."
"Are you sure?" Ron shot suddenly, sounding a bit accusing.
Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I dunno, you did seem a bit…you know…" Bill added carefully.
"So what, you think I told someone?" she said angrily, rounding on him instead.
"No, but…"
"Boys, I'm sure Ginny wouldn't have said anything," Mrs. Weasley added sternly. "Just like all of us."
"Just say you didn't," Ron said simply, raising an eyebrow.
"I did say I didn't."
"Yeah, but you were looking away."
"I didn't bloody tell anybody, okay?" she snarled dangerously.
"And we believe you, Ginevra," Mr. Weasley said firmly. His eyes flitted over to Ron, who folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Harry noticed that he didn't look entirely convinced.
"What about you, Fred? George?" Mrs. Weasley asked quickly, moving the discussion along the table.
"Well, Lee knows," Fred said, shrugging.
"Lee Jordan," George added, probably for Dumbledore's sake.
"We told him we'd be here for holiday, in case he needed to owl us about the shop."
"Oh, and we told a few private customers, but they don't know Harry's here or anything."
"Private customers?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She sounded disapproving. But then, it was discussion about the twins' shop, and 'private customers' sounded a bit sketchy, Harry thought.
"Yeah. Usually adults who don't want people to know they're buying things from a joke shop," Fred sniggered.
"A few of them owe us funds, and we told them to send them here," George clarified. "Be interesting to see who actually sends them."
"Do you know these people by name?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yeah, there were only three," Fred nodded. "Bowling, Thompson, and…er…"
"Some woman named Skeeter," George finished.
A deadly silence filled the room.
It dragged on for quite a while.
Harry looked over nervously as he saw Ron slowly rising to his feet. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
"You mean to tell me…" Ron said lowly, his palms flat on the table's surface, "…that you gave…the location of this house...to Rita Skeeter?"
"Who's that?" the twins said in unison.
"Who – who is it?" Ron said hysterically. "Are you two completely stupid? She's the woman who tortured Harry all through fourth year by writing those horrible articles! She's the one who Hermione had to actually blackmail to get her to print something decent for once! Don't you read the papers?"
They shook their heads at the same time.
"The woman is – I can't even – mum!" Ron said finally, gesturing wildly at his twin brothers.
He seemed unable to speak any further.
Harry exhaled shakily.
Well, at least they knew who it was now. The fact that Rita Skeeter knew where the Burrow was, and the fact that the Weasley name was plastered all over Fred and George's shop, meant that the reporter must have been able to decipher that this particular house was Ron's. If she knew who Ron was, had seen him standing idly next to Harry during his forced interview for the Quibbler, had seen them countless times together during the Triwizard Tournament, then she must have gathered this was the same Weasley household. Whether she was snooping purposely or happened upon the information by chance, Harry didn't know. Either way, the outcome was obvious. A picture in the Prophet that was worth more than a thousand words…
Had she known Harry would be here? Had she simply wanted dirt on the Weasleys, or Ron in particular? Did she have suspicions, or some type of informant that Harry would be at Ron's house during the holidays?
"Rita Skeeter is a terrible excuse for a human being!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "The fact that you two don't even know who she is should be enough to not tell her where the house is! If you two hadn't been experimenting all that time and had perhaps read something once in a while – !"
"Now Molly," Mr. Weasley said carefully. "We can't blame them for not knowing her… It isn't right…"
"Yeah, but all this is their fault!" Ron said bitterly. Harry saw him reach for the paper on the table, which held the incriminating picture, and he looked closely at it.
He slapped it back down.
"Right there!" he said, pointing harshly at the caption. "Photograph captured by Rita Skeeter!"
"Wow," Harry added vaguely. "She never takes her own photos. Well, I suppose she had to, if she was the only one who could see us…"
Ron sat back down next to him, huffing angrily. Harry wondered what exactly he was thinking. Was Ron's anger centered on Fred and George, or Rita Skeeter? While Harry too was angry that the horrid woman had once again got the best of him, using his fame status to further ruin his life, he couldn't help but feel grateful that he and Ron were able to talk about all this ahead of time. When they had spoken alone, Ron had been more reassuring. Now, however, his legendary temper seemed as though it was currently being more dominant.
"Look Harry, we're sorry, but it's not like we knew who she was," Fred defended.
"Yeah, you know we would never help those sods out, anyways," George added, nodding to the paper.
"No, I know, and it's alright," Harry said quickly. "It would have gotten out eventually anyways. The woman is ruthless. I only just…I just hope that Ron won't…"
He sighed, trailing off.
"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said gently. Her tone seemed to change from furious to kindly with alarming swiftness. She looked from Harry to Ron, as if trying to read the answer on their faces.
"He reckons I'm in danger because everyone knows now," Ron said, looking a bit exasperated. "He thinks I'm gonna get kidnapped in the night or something by Death Eaters…"
Harry's eyes narrowed.
"You make it sound like it won't happen Ron, but look around," he shot. "It's not like I don't have a reason to be a bit worried. In case you haven't realized, Sirius isn't here anymore. It hasn't escaped my notice that, yes, people around me tend to be in danger. I'm rather tired of everyone acting like it doesn't happen, because it does. Don't treat me like some nutter who frets over things that are unimportant, because these are very real possibilities."
He folded his arms and slumped back in his chair, steaming with a newfound irritation of his own.
Why did everyone insist he was such a martyr? Hermione constantly worried about his need to save people, and Ron always played down his concerns like they were nothing at all. Yes, perhaps he felt quite protective of those few people close to him, and yes, perhaps he got a bit uneasy when there was a very powerful madman out to murder him and everyone he loved. Wasn't that reason enough? His parents hadn't been saved. Sirius hadn't been saved. Any decent family Harry had was completely wiped out and destroyed, leaving him with nothing at all. Was it so outrageous for him to feel a bit of distress when so much had happened to him already? How could he prevent Ron's outcome from being the same as everyone else Harry had dared care about?
Ron sighed, looking over at him.
"Look, I'm sorry. I know it's hard and everything, I just…hate it when you worry…" he said quietly.
Harry looked up and saw that Ron's cheeks were a bit pink again, and he could feel heat growing on his own face as well. Why did everyone have to watch so intently whenever Ron said something nice to him?
"Well, I can't help worrying about you," Harry replied, running a hand through his own hair. He tried to ignore the staring. "I just don't want you to disappear too..."
"I promise, I won't," Ron said, shaking his head firmly.
A short and unbearably awkward silence followed, during which Harry was able to feel mortified to his full extent. Had he really just said those words in front of Ron's entire family?
Mercifully, Dumbledore spoke again.
"Harry does indeed have a point," he said, pale blue eyes travelling slowly around the room. "Due to the public nature of their coupling, young mister Weasley could perhaps be somewhat of a target."
Harry sighed, feeling his shoulders sag slightly at Dumbledore's words. He hated feeling like some sort of virus to the people around him. However, he felt a hand rest at the base of his neck, and calloused fingers began to play idly with the short black hairs there. Whether Ron was trying to suppress his anxiety or was silently telling him to shut up, Harry didn't really care, because it felt lovely.
"However, Harry, I want you to know that it is highly unlikely he will be in any real danger," Dumbledore said firmly, giving him a twinkling gaze. "Hogwarts is still where you will be residing, and we have already mentioned that this house is well protected still. I simply wished to find the reason for Miss Skeeter's knowledge of the Burrow."
Fred and George looked rather guilty at this, which Harry didn't think he had ever seen before. They usually took pride in the trouble they got into…
Dumbledore turned gently towards Mr. Weasley and Bill, who both looked back expectantly.
"I trust that you know what is…ah…required of us at this moment," he said, smiling slightly at the two ministry workers. "I understand you work in fairly close proximity to her newly located office within the ministry, yes?"
They nodded.
"While Miss Skeeter's actions cannot be undone, we cannot afford any further…revealing of the house's whereabouts," Dumbledore said, his beard twitching slightly. "…I trust you understand my meaning?"
"Don't worry. She'll probably just forget it ever happened," Bill replied, grinning.
After Mrs. Weasley suggested they all head into the sitting room, apart from the headmaster and two oldest Weasley men who were talking in quieted tones as they left, Harry sat next to Ron on the comfortable sofa, glad that the meeting was over.
However, the evening seemed to be one for uncomfortable silences, because as soon as Mrs. Weasley bustled away, there was one. Again.
"Harry, we really are sorry," George said finally, grimacing in his direction.
"Yeah, obviously if we knew she was that cow reporter…"
"Which I still don't understand, by the way," Ron said bitterly. "Did her name not ring any bells? She's written about dad too."
"And Bill," Charlie added.
"Well, I said I thought her name sounded familiar, but he – "
"Yes, well, what's done is done," Fred interrupted his twin, glaring.
"Morons," Ron muttered, throwing his arm rather violently over the back of the couch.
Harry snorted, but otherwise didn't bring any more blame to the twins. After all, if they paid more attention to the headlines in the Prophet, there would most likely be a lot more reporters walking around with a limp. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been mentioned a few times negatively, since they were doing quite well and were probably the victims of competitive jealousy. Shop owners in Diagon Alley had been quoted saying they were 'A nuisance to the entire industry, buying up all the shops and expanding too rapidly for the working wizard to keep up with!'
Harry had to keep tabs. He was technically invested, after all.
He gave a sigh and let himself be pulled closer by Ron's arm behind him. That was when he realized that Ron had just used the oldest trick in the book. The old arm-over-the-back-of-the-couch transition. Harry snorted, but let him have his moment of silent victory. He had fallen for it, after all.
Unfortunately, Ginny chose that moment to speak.
"I can't believe you thought I did it," she said moodily from the depths of the armchair she was seated in.
"Well, you did break his arm," Charlie pointed out.
"When are you going to get over that?" she said nastily, sitting up a bit straighter. "It was an accident."
Everyone in the room gave a collective scoff.
"Oh, not believing me again, I see," she said, gesturing wildly.
"Well, Gin, you have been acting a bit…terrifying."
"Shut up," she snarled at Fred.
"See, that's what I mean…"
"I'm going to bed," she shot, standing abruptly from her chair. Her stomping footsteps sounded all the way up to her room, where her door could be heard snapping brusquely shut.
Fervent murmurs of 'women' and 'that'll be fun later' followed her dramatic exit, but no one spoke outright.
Harry didn't really feel like saying much either. He was still unsure on this whole matter of Ginny's behavior. While he didn't really date girls anymore, Harry still respected them. He couldn't find it in him to actually go with his instincts and tell her off for being so unforgiving of her brother. He was still trying to fathom why she, according to every other member of the Weasley family, fancied him in the first place. Ginny had never really shown much interest in him at all past third year, so that meant that she had secretly liked him? It didn't make bloody sense.
Girls…
So, Harry was trapped in an awkward middle ground. He felt defensive for Ron whenever she seemed to glare particularly hard in his direction, but he didn't say anything when she did. He felt protective when Ron's elbow had been broken, but he hadn't sought Ginny out and sunk his fist into her stomach like he would to another bloke. He almost couldn't wait until they got back to Hogwarts. No doubt Malfoy would have several things to say to Ron, and Harry was greatly anticipating the ability to retaliate in those circumstances. Now, he just felt oddly conflicted and wary.
But, if she continued with this vengeful outlook on Ron, Harry would have to just find the bollocks and say something, at least…
And as Ron's hand gently ruffled his hair yet again, Harry silently vowed to do just that.
"Well, now that 'family time' is over, anyone feel like getting crushed?" Ron asked, indicating his brand new chess set resting atop one of the footrests.
"I suppose I'll have a go," Charlie said, sighing. "Though I don't know why I even bother."
Harry chuckled and Ron stood to go set up the pieces. He settled in to watch the game, feeling too lazy to do anything else. At least, despite all the turmoil going on around them, the holiday was still turning out to be enjoyable…
"Is it weird that I get randy whenever I watch you play?" Harry asked as they trudged up the stairs to Ron's room.
"Probably, but watching you fly makes me hard too, so I reckon it's okay."
"That's good."
"With your little arse in those Quidditch robes…"
"Yeah, I got it."
They laughed as they rounded another banister, steadily making their way up to the very top of the house. As they passed each flight, the various residents of that floor would say goodnight before disappearing into their rooms, though Charlie's came with a bit of a growl. He had lost quite pathetically next to Ron's unbeatable skills, as was pretty much expected. Luckily for him, everyone's attention had been distracted from the game when Mrs. Weasley brought out sandwiches halfway through, but his defeat had still been rather brutal.
They reached the peak of the house and entered Ron's room finally, where it was dark except for the luminous moon hanging outside the window. When Ron closed the door, he put his back to it and faced Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked, momentarily distracted by the Chudley Cannons' seeker waving over Ron's shoulder.
He bit his lower lip hesitantly, which then diverted Harry's attention to that instead.
"So, did you want to…you know…try it out?"
"Try what out?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
Ron raised one as well. Great, had he purchased something else from the magazine that he was choosing just now to reveal? Some sort of frightening toy?
"You know. You running the show this time," he said, shrugging.
Harry's eyes widened.
What with all the dramatic discussion this evening, Harry had almost forgotten about his earlier curiosities concerning Ron's body. He had taken a rather different approach and chose to act a bit more exploratory than he usually preferred to be. However, the way Ron had squirmed and whimpered, the way he cried out breathlessly whenever Harry touched him so intimately…well…it had been rather pleasant to watch, he supposed.
He could already feel a stiffening in his trousers at the recollection.
"Only if you're okay with it," Harry said slowly, making sure Ron knew he wasn't trying to push it. After all, Harry had experienced the feeling of something inside him several times now, and Ron had only felt it once. Perhaps it was a bit different when you hadn't been quite so prepared. He remembered the hours of play in their beds back at Hogwarts, and how…dexterous Ron tended to be.
Harry blushed at his thoughts, for they were definitely making an impression on his body now…
"Yeah, it's fine," Ron laughed. "I mean, it's only fair."
"But you don't have to just because of that," Harry said exasperatedly, dropping his hands to his sides. "You make it sound like some sort of compromise. If you don't feel ready we can…wait, or something…"
"No, no," Ron said quickly, his ears turning slightly red. "I want to. I liked it when you…earlier…"
Harry could never understand how, one minute, Ron would say the naughtiest words that would undoubtedly cause his mother to feint if she ever heard them, and the next he was completely shy about discussing such things.
But apparently it was still Ron, because he was creeping forward now as Harry watched. His freckles came into focus, his bright blue eyes shown in the moonlight from the window, and his tongue went between his teeth in a way that made Harry feel a bit weak. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off it.
And then, he felt that tongue shove into his mouth, as well as rough hands threading through his wild hair. The other boy's warm body pushed against his, causing his breath to hitch slightly. Harry reached up as well in order to grip the back of Ron's neck, already lost to the redhead's wiles so quickly. He was rather hopeless, and he knew it.
They snogged lightly, occasional grunts and sighs working their way in between breaths. Harry couldn't ever really remember feeling as...at home, like he did when kissing Ron. It was a lot nicer than his first kiss with Cho, which was all he really had for comparison. And whenever he had fantasized about any other girls after that, it had never taken on such a comfortable aspect. He exhaled, nipping Ron's lip between his teeth, wondering how he had gone without this pleasant feeling for so long.
But, as usual, things tended to escalate.
Harry felt a hand on his arse, and he was roughly pulled forward. Ron stumbled backward, his body making a thump against the door, and Harry gasped as he felt him grind his own hips forward in a way that only Ron could. Harry could feel how excited he was, feel that cock pressing against his through the fabric of their jeans.
"See how hard you make me?" Ron breathed, nipping at Harry's neck. "Mph, I want you to do it…"
"Okay," Harry murmured with his eyes closed, feeling the hand in his hair tighten. He shoved his hips forward this time, reveling in the friction it created. He couldn't help but get excited when there was a panting redhead clinging to him, begging to be taken. What sort of lottery had he won, exactly?
He grunted, pulling away and walking them blindly over to the bed. Ron had been forced to change the blankets every morning due to their activities, and after tonight, they would no doubt have to do it again…
They fell onto the cushy surface of Ron's bed. The bed that had already witnessed so much debauchery in the few days they had been here. Harry immediately pulled at Ron's jumper only to discover that there was another infuriating shirt under it. Didn't he know that wearing so many layers made it harder to get to him? Harry yanked that one off too, and moved to take care of his own t-shirt. Ron's hands worked quickly at the button on Harry's jeans, but he seemed to get confused at the zipper.
"What the bloody hell?" Ron muttered, feeling it curiously and only succeeding in making Harry harder with the prolonged touch.
Harry laughed when he realized Ron had probably never encountered one before. Despite Ron's nymph-like abilities in getting him worked up so quickly, he was still adorable.
"Here," Harry chuckled, reaching down and undoing it himself.
When Harry had been shopping discreetly for clothes in Diagon Alley, having slipped away in order to find something acceptable to wear that didn't fit like a tent, he had noticed a distinct lack of certain things. In muggle clothes, there were usually zippers and snaps and all different style of clasps to do up various bits of clothing. But when he was surrounded by wizard attire, or what wizards considered 'muggle clothes' for blending into the public, he had noticed that buttons and string-ties ran rampant through all articles of clothing, not just a few. Apparently, some things were just too complicated for the common wizard to figure out.
The particular pair of jeans he was wearing now happened to be a very old pair of Dudley's that miraculously fit him. They were the only ones. It must have been through one of Dudley's 'thin' phases, if it could be considered that. There had been a point where he had appeared less fat than usual during one of his growth spurts.
Not wanting thoughts of his horrid cousin to turn him off, Harry marked Ron's actions as 'cute' and ducked down to snog him again.
Ron responded eagerly, throwing his arms around Harry's neck and pulling him closer, if possible. Harry ravaged the other boy's mouth, feeling both of their tongues fighting against each other, yet embracing at the same time as if long-lost friends. He reached down between them to work at Ron's trousers as well. Ron grunted slightly, pushing his hips up at the contact, and Harry quickly undid them and shoved them down his legs. He could feel the warm, bare chest against his own, hear the heavy panting of the boy beneath him. Harry didn't know if he could handle the anticipation of what he was about to do.
As he pulled his own shirt quickly over his head, nearly knocking his glasses off, Harry wondered how different it would feel to be the instigator this time. Whenever Ron did it, pushing into his body for the first time, he sounded like he was either in a great deal of pleasure or ready to pass out, since his voice usually sounded a bit strangled and gruff. Would it feel the same for Harry, or would it be different? Also, what if Ron was hurt? He didn't think he could stay hard if he knew Ron was in pain the whole time. He was new to this after all. What if Harry did it wrong?
As Ron's trousers, pants, and the rest of Harry's clothing fell to the floor and out of sight, he wondered if Ron had experienced the same crippling anxiety before his first time, too. Good lord, he didn't know what he was doing.
"Are you sure about this?" he said nervously, looking down at Ron's naked body. The moon made him look slightly pale, but his muscled shoulders, lean stomach, and the sprinkling of freckles that stood out across his cheeks more than made up for it.
"Yeah," Ron nodded, resting his hand on Harry's leg.
Harry was sitting atop him, their privates touching rather blatantly. But even with the perfect view and Ron's cock nestled against his own, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
"You know I have no idea what the bloody hell I'm doing, right?" he said hopefully.
"I reckon you'll get the hang of it once you start," Ron smirked. "Then, you can fuck me as much as you want."
Good lord.
"Alright," Harry muttered, blushing. He leaned forward again and kissed Ron to stall as much as he could. They snogged once more, Ron's soft lips making him feel a bit better about all this, and Harry reached down to take him in hand.
Ron grunted, his hips jerking slightly at Harry's touch. He was quite hard already, despite them having just started. Harry groaned when he realized that perhaps Ron was a bit more 'okay' with this than he let on. Perhaps Ron would enjoy it just the same. After all, he hadn't been experienced before either, and Harry had been reduced to a mess both times they had done this with him on the receiving end…
Ron's hand wandered blindly next to them, feeling along the edge of the end table until it reached the drawer. His breathing was heavy as Harry stroked slowly, watching Ron trying to get the bottle out. He realized that, eventually, he would have to make some sort of move here that went beyond the simple wanking of Ron's cock.
Harry reluctantly reached over and took it out for him, since Ron appeared to be having trouble anyways.
"So, I just…" Harry trailed off, feeling stupid. His cheeks were ablaze with humiliation as he asked his boyfriend what the bloody hell he should do first.
"You've got to work up to it," Ron said, his face slightly pink. "Like I always do, you know…"
"Okay," Harry sighed.
He unstoppered the bottle and dipped his fingers in, remembering how Ron went about it the first time. He had been gentle, and slow, thankfully, which had made the experience probably less painful than it could have been. Harry only hoped he went about it the same way…
He felt Ron nibbling at his neck, which made it rather hard to concentrate on what he was about to do. He was trying to get into the mindset of how to properly defile his boyfriend, yet Ron kept making him even randier…
Harry put his hand between Ron's legs, and arms came up around his neck again to hold onto him. It was different, Harry thought. Having someone beneath you, clinging onto you like this, was much different than being at their mercy. It was certainly a change from the usual position he found himself in, legs spread wide open while Ron had his way. Yet Ron's moan as Harry pushed a slicked finger into him was insanely arousing…
"Mph," Harry felt Ron's grip around his neck tighten, and his grunt was muffled by Ron's shoulder.
Harry kissed the skin there, hoping that he wasn't hurt. He couldn't see Ron's face, being held rather forcibly by his strong grip, so he had to go by sound. Judging by the short breaths and grinding hips, he wasn't particularly uncomfortable…
"Oh," he breathed against Harry's ear, making him shiver. Harry used his other arm to wrap around Ron's torso, flattening his palm against his back simply for it to have somewhere to be.
"Is that okay?" Harry asked, moving his hand slowly to get Ron used to the feeling.
"Uh! Yeah…" he gasped, thrusting his hips upward again. Harry felt Ron's hardness rub against his own and had to close his eyes to not react.
He had to keep this slow if Ron was so unused to the feeling. But if Ron kept up the breathless noises and constant rubbing against him, Harry didn't think he could take it. He pushed his own hips forward to try and ease some of the tension, get something to hold him off, yet Ron's breathy moan signaled that the sensation of their cocks slipping together was only succeeding in making him more excited. Thus, Harry became more so as well.
"Uhh…it feels so good when you're in me," Ron sighed, gripping another fistful of his hair.
His voice was so different compared to the teasing, naughty tone that it usually took on. The whimpers and sighs as Harry pushed another lubed finger in were quite a change from the norm. However, his words were just as vulgar as ever, and still made Harry shiver from the sound.
"Mph…I can't wait till you fuck me…I want to feel all of you…"
Harry groaned, keeping his face buried in the crook of Ron's neck. He could feel heavy breaths against his ear, small bites placed along his shoulder, and the occasional buck of Ron's hips when Harry pushed his fingers in all the way. Ron would moan and squirm, panting the entire time as if he were almost overwhelmed by the sensation. Occasionally, he would cry out softly whenever Harry grazed that magical spot inside, which he tried not to do too often. He knew the unbearable feeling of being teased there in the heat of the moment, and he didn't want Ron to come this way.
Harry grimaced, since he knew what his next move should be. Ron was feeling rather loose now (a thought which made Harry's face heat up a great deal), and was clearly ready to be stretched a bit further. He obviously had to be, if Harry's cock were to even fit in there... But Harry didn't know if he could do it.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly worked in a third finger, making sure Ron knew what was happening so that it wasn't a surprise. Ron's grip around him tightened again, and his breath faltered slightly. Otherwise, he took it rather well.
Soon, he was panting again, Harry purposely trying to find that spot inside him now to hopefully take away his focus on the pain. It was easier to forget about the stretch when you were drowning in pleasure, a warm tingling spreading through your body each time it was struck. Harry also pushed their hips together again, seeking that glorious friction between them that always made both boys moan with need. He had to have something to stave off his own erection…
"You okay?" Harry asked, not really needing to raise his voice since he was right next to Ron's ear anyways.
Ron nodded, ruffling his hair in confirmation.
Harry pumped his fingers a few more times, making sure Ron was as ready as he could be. He could feel his own cock begging for him to hurry up. The anticipation of what he was about to do, how he would soon be thrusting into the boy beneath him, was nearly overwhelming. At the same time, he was still a bit nervous. Ron's whimpers and moans distracted him from it a bit, but there was no mistaking his own hesitance.
Unable to find any way of stalling further, and not really wanting to at the same time, Harry pulled his hand back and his fingers slipped from Ron's body. He sat back up, looking down at the redhead.
He was the picture of arousal, with pink cheeks and ruffled hair. His freckles made him look so innocent, and his arms were splayed out in a way that looked like surrender. Harry gulped, feeling his heart beating rather fast. It was a sight that certainly made him eager to move onward.
"You ready?" Harry asked, putting his hand on Ron's thighs.
"Yeah," Ron nodded again, blue eyes shining in the dim light. "It's okay, you know. I'm alright. Don't be scared."
Harry scoffed. Was he really that transparent?
"Is it that obvious?" he said, sighing.
"You look cute when you're nervous," was all Ron said. He smirked and reached over to the end table, grasping the bottle of lubricant, and offered it to Harry.
Harry nodded and took it. If Ron wasn't worried, then he wouldn't be either. At least, that's what he told himself for now.
He poured some into his hand and set the bottle back on the table with a clink! Harry then spread it around a bit in his palm, feeling the coolness of the oily liquid. He knew immediately that it was going to feel wonderful on him, as it always did when he was so worked up. Reluctantly, he reached down and carefully took himself in hand. As he suspected, it felt marvelous. The cool substance and the feel of his hand squeezing around him made him exhale in a shaky way, for he had gone so long without much relief from Ron's erotic noises and the warm body pressed against him. It took a great effort, but Harry stopped stroking himself as soon as he knew he was well-coated in the lube. If he hadn't, he probably would just wank himself and come right there on Ron's stomach.
He reached up and used the rest on Ron's cock too, just for good measure. Harry didn't want him to be uncomfortable through the whole thing if their movements got a bit…vigorous.
Ron's hips shoved up when Harry touched him, which made Harry chuckle.
When he was finished making everything shiny and oily, the sight of which only enhanced his excitement, Harry leaned forward, but hesitated.
"How do you want to…I mean, which way do you want to…be?" he asked awkwardly.
Ron seemed to have not anticipated this, because he looked rather surprised.
"Oh…I dunno. Which way is better, do you think?" Ron asked. He spoke in a way that hinted they were merely talking about the weather.
"Er…I…" Harry blushed hard. "I guess it felt a bit…looser…the other way. On my stomach."
But had that been because he simply liked having Ron behind him like that, or because it actually was? It had been his second time, as well, so perhaps he was more used to it then. Why did things have to be so complicated…
"Well, let's do it like that then," Ron said before Harry could add anything else. He flipped over with a lot more agility than it looked like he had possessed a moment ago, and the next thing, Harry was staring at his arse.
He allowed his eyes to wander upward. They roamed over his toned back, his strong shoulders that glistened slightly from their exertion, and the firm biceps that were visible, contracting and flexing as he positioned himself on his stomach…
Harry swallowed, feeling a bit too eager now...
"You ready, then?" he asked, placing a hand above Ron's arse so that he knew he was there.
"Yeah," Harry saw the back of his head nod.
Harry leaned forward nervously, taking a few breaths to try and calm his heart down, and carefully felt around for Ron's arse. When he felt his fingers slip in easily, he knew that was as good as it was probably going to be. So, he sat up on his knees, positioned his cock at the spot it so desperately wanted to enter, and pushed as gently as he could.
Ah. Now he could see why Ron sounded so desperately randy whenever he did this.
Harry actually had to close his eyes in order to keep control of himself. With the constricting feeling around the head of his cock, which was barely inside Ron as it were, Harry immediately thought that he would have to do this again, and soon.
Easy Harry, remember to not be an arse…
Yes, he had to concentrate. He leaned forward slightly and propped himself up, putting his arms on either side of Ron's body to use the bed for leverage. Ron had yet to say anything, but his back looked rather rigid and his breath sounded a bit shallow. Harry lifted one of his hands again and placed it on the side of Ron's hip. He had to know to relax, which was understandably hard to do when trying to take someone's dick…
However, if he went at an agonizingly slow pace, it would undoubtedly be easier for Ron to adjust. So, he did just that. Despite every cell in his body screaming for him to thrust forward with abandon and forget about the person beneath him, the way Ron's head was turned to the side showed just a few innocent freckles on his cheek. Freckles that brought to mind vibrant blue eyes that always shown like sapphires, no matter what type of lighting hit them. His red hair was stuck up in the back, ruffled from their excitement and the general activity throughout the day. His eyes were closed tight, and his plump bottom lip was hidden in a look of discomfort.
"Does it hurt?" Harry asked, knowing the answer already.
"A bit," he said breathlessly.
"Sorry, I can stop if you want me too…"
"No, it's okay," he added stubbornly.
"Alright," Harry sighed. "Just try and relax, it'll get better."
"Promise?" Ron said. Harry could see a smirk forming on his face again.
Harry leaned down and nipped at the shell of his ear, grinning. "I promise."
Harry hesitated, and then continued pushing forward. Ron's shoulders tensed again and Harry could see his grip on the blankets tighten. He had to do something to distract him, other than banter. He could remember his first time, and what Ron had done for him.
Harry used his grip on Ron's side to ease him up a bit, lifting his hips slightly off the bed. He then slid his hand around to Ron's front and followed a small trail of short red hairs down to his goal. Finally, his fingers closed around the other boy's erection, which was thankfully still slick from the lube. Ron's breath hitched and he ducked his head while Harry squeezed around him roughly. The delicious little whine that followed as Harry continued to push forth, while wanking him at the same time, made Harry grunt with the effort of restraining himself again. Never had he heard another boy make such lovely sounds as Ron did…
Finally, after what seemed like bloody eternity, Harry felt his hips bump against Ron's, signaling that he was fully seated in the redhead. Ron's head still hung slightly as he was propped up on him elbows, but his breathing had gone back to the heavy panting of earlier. At least he was enjoying himself, and not concentrating on the uncomfortable stretch that Harry so remembered. But with that stretch came an odd fullness that, once recognized, made him crave as he was being mercilessly taken by the very boy he was on top of now. Harry leaned upright, placing his legs inside Ron's to ease them out a bit wider. He smoothed his hand along Ron's spine, trying to calm him as well as fight off the carnal desire still clawing inside his own chest.
Ron's body surrounding him, the erection so firmly buried within the youngest Weasley boy, felt insanely tight. It made wanking in comparison look like a pebble would appear in the face of a mountain. It constricted around his cock, squeezing around him in every direction, making him sure that he would rather be here than anywhere else in the world. Hell, in the universe. He suspected that the Earth could be coming down around him and he would not leave the tight heat of Ron's arse.
"You okay?" he murmured against the back of Ron's shoulder, giving an open-mouthed kiss there for good measure.
"Uhn, yeah," Ron said, sounding a bit desperate.
"What's the matter?" Harry said, feeling a bit afraid. His hand faltered on Ron's cock, slowing as he grew concerned. "Does it still hurt that bad?"
"No…" Harry could see from the side of his face that his cheeks were growing darker. Ron's hand clutched at the blanket again. "Just…really turned on…"
Harry paused for a moment, then chuckled.
"Well, that's good, because it's sort of the point of all this," he said, running his hand along Ron's back again. He squeezed a bit harder with his opposite hand around the other boy's erection, drawing a short moan for his efforts. "So, you like it when I do this, then?"
"Mhh…yeah…" Ron whined. His hips pushed back slightly, towards Harry's cock, and he took that as a signal to continue.
He pulled back slowly, feeling a delightful friction as he did, and pushed forward again as gently as he could manage. Ron stiffened again and the blanket seemed to be getting hell from his grip, but Harry continued to stroke Ron through it to try and ease him into relaxing. Once he did, Harry wouldn't feel so guilty anymore for hurting the only boy who had shown him as much kindness…
As Harry continued in short, soft thrusts, trying to ease into a gentle rhythm, his breathing got heavier from the constricting sensation. As he pulled up Ron's erection, feeling the tightness of his arse with each slow push into him, Harry heard slight gasps from the redhead beneath him. They were soft, but not pained like Harry had feared they would be. His grip on the blankets had loosened, and his torso dropped to the bed again. Harry looked down at the expanse of flesh before him, Ron's muscled shoulders and lengthy spine, and saw his own hand clutching desperately at Ron's hip to try and ground himself. He eased his grip, not wanting to bruise him, but the feel of his firm arse beneath Harry's fingers made it so that he couldn't move away completely. It was strange, how much the sight of the dip in Ron's back made his mouth water. The elegant curve there made him seem more vulnerable, or perhaps more willingly submissive. His gaze wandered to where their bodies met, the sight of his cock slowly being pushed into the other boy's body. Harry groaned, looking away, unable to stare at it without going mad and abandoning all decency.
He leaned forward again, reluctantly moving his hand from Ron's hip to the bed in order to prop himself up still. His thrusts became a bit faster with his need, Ron's gasps turning to soft moans. He could feel Ron's back pressed against his bare chest, the heat of his skin transferring onto Harry's. Ron's lips parted as he panted openly, his head turned to the side again. Harry could see that his eyes were closed, and his cheeks were flushed adorably. He would make small noises when Harry would squeeze around him, and Harry felt his hips push back more than once.
But, when he threaded a hand into Ron's hair and pushed Ron's hips down towards the bed a bit more, that was when he heard a breathy moan that was different from the others.
"Is that it?" Harry whispered, thrusting a bit slower in the same direction he had just a second ago.
"Uh!" Ron cried, turning more towards the pillow. "Y-yes…"
Harry leaned down further to place more kisses along Ron's neck, feeling his chest meet flush with his back. He began thrusting a bit harder, stroking Ron firmly, who started writhing slightly as he whimpered. His hips bucked helplessly against Harry's, but Harry continued to keep up a steady pace, knowing for himself that it was a wonderful feeling. The deep shocks radiating through your body as the boy behind you pounded roughly…
However, now he wasn't the one feeling such things. He was the one who had his cock surrounded by a glorious heat, who was penetrating the sweet, tight arse of another willing body. He could feel Ron's desperation, hear the sighs and moans of his partner as they both took their pleasure in their own way. The sight of Ron's hand occasionally gripping the sheets tight told him when he was doing well, and the burning in his own midsection told him when he was already so close. But he had to last for Ron, like Ron always did for him.
"Oh," Ron whined, burying his face into the pillow. His breathing was uneven and his skin glistened slightly in the dim light from outside.
"Are you close?" Harry asked, wondering if he interpreted the signs right.
He saw Ron's head nod, his flaming hair forming an adorable single curl on the back of his neck. Harry thanked the stars, because he wasn't sure if he would have been able to hold out for much longer.
Ron cried out again, turning his head, probably in order to breathe better.
"Mmm…" he hummed, gripping the pillow roughly. "Make me come, Harry…"
Harry closed his eyes. Of all the times for Ron's naughty words to show up, it was always when he was in least need of them…
In order to distract Ron from saying any more, Harry began nipping at his shoulder, which he seemed to like. Ron moaned and squirmed, his hips bucking slightly to meet each of Harry's thrusts. Harry stroked firmly at his erection, feeling warm skin against his own, between his teeth, around his cock... Ron was everywhere, and Harry loved it.
Ron tensed and his breath came out harshly. Harry recognized the blank look in his eye, the rising volume to his moans, and the pause in his hips that signaled the approach of orgasm. He thrust harder, sank his teeth into Ron's shoulder, and pumped the boy's erection quickly.
"Mhh…ah!" Ron cried breathlessly, the blankets once again being crushed by his grip.
Harry felt Ron's body tense, felt the constricting feeling around his cock intensify. He grunted, closing his eyes at the wonderful sensation, and vaguely registered Ron's cum flooding over his hand as he continued to stroke diligently. Ron whimpered openly into the room, his breathy moans making Harry mesmerized by the sound. It should have been illegal to be that attractive.
However, Ron was very attractive, and about ten times more so mid-orgasm. His cries died down and his body went lax again, and Harry felt the last drops of him empty. He grunted, pulling his hand away from Ron's spent cock and placing it back on his hip.
Knowing he had a bit more freedom now, Harry held Ron's waist to keep his hips up and continued to pound roughly into that tight arse. He was so close it was a wonder he hadn't come already, but it was definitely fast approaching. Ron's panting and gasps continued as Harry thrust deep into him, taking full advantage of his relaxed state.
But, unfortunately, all good things eventually come to an end.
Harry moaned and let his head fall back as he was finally wrenched into sweet release. The waves washed over his body, concentrated in his pulsing erection, pulling his seed from him by force. He gripped Ron tightly, his pace turning erratic and desperate as he thrust through his orgasm, his thoughts turning muddled from the pleasure. He could feel Ron's taut flesh beneath his fingers, feel himself coming inside another's body. It was nearly mind-blowing as he thought of what he was actually doing to Ron.
When it faded, and when he finally managed to regain control of himself, Harry slowed and eventually stopped, panting heavily. Ron was doing the same, and Harry could see his flushed face as it turned to the side again.
Exhaling shakily, Harry leaned down, pecked Ron on the crimson cheek, and gently eased himself backward. He felt his softening cock slip out inelegantly. Ron winced, but otherwise lay there looking completely relaxed and at peace.
Harry managed to shuffle over and lay down beside him, a lot more tired than he usually was after shagging. His stomach felt tight from constantly thrusting for so long, and his arms were worn out from simultaneously holding himself up and stroking Ron for a vast majority of the encounter. Being the top was a bit more work, as he had suspected.
However, Ron looked worn out in a different way, which Harry was all too familiar with.
"You okay?" he asked, sniggering at the way Ron's cheek was smashed against the pillow. He still managed to look adorable, of course, since his freckles stood out against his blush.
Blue eyes wandered up (leisurely taking their time to roam over Harry's naked body), and finally met his green ones.
"Yeah," Ron said simply, still a bit out of breath.
"That's good. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Harry added nervously.
Ron scoffed. "No. I mean, it was…different. But good."
Ron always had a way of putting things simply, but truly.
"Same here," Harry said, grinning.
Author's Note Again: Well, I think only one person suspected that it wasn't Ginny, so congratulations to Geo Nova. You get to keep all your gold after all! I do love reading all of your speculations though, even if Ginny's rage would only magnify were she able to read the amount of hate geared towards her. Because I'm a whore for reviews, I would also like to propose another one-shot offer if the amount of reviews reaches the 200-mark this time. If you'd like to make a suggestion for a pairing (which will undoubtedly involve sex, because again, I'm a whore), any pairing at all, put it in the review and once the counter reaches 200, I will pick one and write a one-shot about it. I'm working on about three one-shots right now, so one day you're all just gonna get a flood of alerts saying that they're all posted. However, I will put this new one on top of my priority list when the time comes.
Anyways, what did you think of Harry laying down the dick for once? The end of Christmas break is approaching. What will happen when Harry and Ron go back to school? What sort of perverted things can they manage to fit into so little time? What will the reaction be from the other students from Rita Skeeter's meddling once they return? Oh, the suspense...