…specific wants…

The bed was agreeably warm, and Ron was feeling warmly agreeable. Harry had wrapped the redhead up in his arms last night and they'd exchanged a few kisses before going to sleep. The knowledge that his best friend would soon be rejoining him in class was the second best Christmas present that Ron could think of. The best being that Harry loved him and he'd been able to honestly say to Harry the same in return.

All of that aside there was a decidedly physical element to the warmth that Ron was feeling at that particular moment, a sort of delicious heat that was radiating from a central point. The redhead took a breath, reluctantly beginning the process of opening his eyes and starting the day. If he was dreaming this warmth he wasn't too sure that he wanted to wake up, despite the fact that he was sure to be waking up to Harry and Christmas.

He sighed and felt a hand stroke his side sympathetically. Not even the allure of presents could overcome his present level of comfort and… pleasure?

Ron blushed, realising that he was hard, that the warmth he felt was radiating from his groin more than his bed mate. He and Harry had declared themselves, and kissed and cuddled, but they hadn't discussed actual sex. Ron wanted actual sex, in fact he wanted a lot of actual sex with another actual person, with a very specific person in fact, the one specifically in his arms at this specific moment. He didn't want to bollocks things up by pushing for actual sex with this specific person at this specific moment because he wasn't sure what Harry's specific wants were.

"You're thinking too much," Harry mumbled from his hiding place in Ron's armpit, "I can feel the vibrations."

Ron snorted and opened his eyes as Harry emerged, his face a little flushed. The green eyed teen pushed Ron onto his back and boldly rolled himself on top of the redhead, making Ron gasp as a sensitive part of him gained a bit of welcome friction. Harry's face flushed even more and his eyes went a bit glassy with pleasure.

"Mmm," he mumbled and took Ron's mouth in a firm kiss. They were getting better at this, finding just the right pressure and friction to make their lips tingle, then slowly parting lips and touching tongues in little dabs. Harry tasted spicy and familiar and Ron sucked the other teens tongue into his mouth with a soft groan, bringing his hands up and shoving them under the striped pyjama top and running curious fingers over heated skin. Harry arched into the touch, shifting slowly against Ron and breathing hard.

Ron gasped and broke the kiss for a moment when Harry's hands returned the favour, playing over his chest. Harry took advantage of his surprise and nibbled thoughtfully on his ear for a moment, murmuring in wordless pleasure. Ron was feeling hot again, and definitely getting a very clear idea about the specific wants they both harboured. Harry was solid against him, even though he was still very thin, and something intriguing was poking Ron in the belly as they moved slowly against each other.

The friction was driving Ron mad, and he wanted more of it. He slid his hands down Harry's back and then daringly slipped his fingers under Harry's waistband. Harry shivered and put his mouth back over Ron's licking at the redheads' lips in little dabs, like a cat. Ron couldn't restrain a moan when he realised that Harry wasn't wearing any underwear. His long fingers skimmed haltingly over Harry's bare arse, waiting for a sign that his touch was too much too fast. It never came, in fact his soon to be lover arched into the touch with a soft moan. Greatly daring, Ron took firm hold and pulled Harry's hips down against his own.

"Ron," the broken whisper hung in the air before Harry took his mouth again, this kiss urgent and needy. Ron felt slightly desperate, his skin buzzing all over, his head swimming from the kisses, heat pouring from his skin. He wanted more of Harry's skin on his, needed more of Harry's movement and weight, but couldn't bring himself to let go long enough to get more of either.

Thankfully they'd managed to turn mind reading into an art over the past few years because Harry let go of the nipple he'd been flicking with a thumbnail and pushed himself almost upright. Ron tightened his grip on Harry's arse in silent warning that the other teen wasn't getting any further away than that, and Harry snorted in amusement, skinning out of his pyjama top and then pulling Ron up as well, reaching back to yank Ron's hands off his arse and divesting the incoherent redhead of his own pyjama top as well. Before Ron could latch on again, Harry was skinning out of the pyjama bottoms, moving away to do so and then tugging impatiently at Ron's. To avoid injuring sensitive anatomy Ron pulled his own bottoms and pants off, tossing them aside and shivering in the cool dorm air. Harry shoved him flat and plastered himself to Ron's front again, dragging the blankets up to form a cocoon.

Both teens moaned at the renewed contact, and Ron lost himself in sensation, drugged on Harry's kisses and scent and touch.

This was the best Christmas present he'd ever had.

0o0o0o0

Severus squinted at the lump in the shadows and then sighed, contemplating a cold water charm. He wouldn't of course, the boy was still too fragile to tolerate a deluge of cold water in the middle of winter, but the temptation was great, and the mental image of the aftermath was faintly alluring.

"Don't make me pour cold water on you two," he warned instead, trusting that the menace in his voice would be cold water enough. Sure enough the couple broke apart, coming out of the shadows and smiling at him a little sheepishly. On the whole they had been very well behaved, even decorous in public, despite the fact that they were obviously ecstatically discovering the joys of teenage sex.

"Severus?" he ignored the question as a matter of course, gazing at them steadily.

"You will not be able to carry on like that during the term time," he cautioned and received identical nods of understanding and acceptance. Evidently they were making the most of the privacy offered by a mostly empty castle.

"Sorry Severus," Harry was blushing faintly in the starlight, "We thought we were alone."

"This is my favourite vantage point," Severus informed him, and Harry nodded. The Astronomy tower had the best view of the fireworks but was often so cold that no one else came to disturb him and his celebratory bottle of fine brandy. If Albus knew that he preferred to be here on New Years Eve his mentor had never given any indication of it, he had certainly never intruded on Severus' solitude.

"Do you want to be alone?" Ron offered, and for a moment he considered sending them on their way, his old habits of solitude rising to the fore in the castle where he had so often been surrounded by people and yet felt so alone.

"No," the answer slipped from his lips, almost as if another person had said it, "You may stay."

The teens came to stand beside him, still pressed close to each other but not so obviously. From the folds of his cloak Severus produced the bottle of brandy and the snifter he had charmed to stay warm. With a flick of his wand he conjured two more and poured a measure of the fine liquid into each, handing the teens theirs and then raising his own in silent toast.

He had toasted each New Year in silently for the last ten years from this very spot. How odd that the first time he had company it was the son of a man that he had loathed, and one of the 'Weasley horde'. The teens returned his silent toast and sipped cautiously at their snifters. Severus watched as they winced and then flushed as the heady alcohol slid into their systems. Given that reaction he decided not to burden their uneducated selves with the name of the drink they were imbibing or its age.

"It is an acquired taste," he murmured, not sure why he was telling them this, "My family had few traditions worth keeping, but this particular one is civilised enough to preserve. Brandy on New Years Eve, and a toast to the year ahead. My first glass was at the age of three, though it was only a very small measure."

Harry sipped again, with the face of a person who is trying to analyse the taste. Ron was swirling the snifter in eerie mimicry of Severus, an action that he performed almost unconsciously after so long. Properly warmed brandy was swirled to release the aroma, which was just as important as the liquid itself.

"Its… not bad," Harry said, his voice slightly hoarse. He too began to swirl the snifter, with an unconsciously elegant movement of his wrist. Ron sniffed his snifter a few times and then sipped again.

The three of them settled into silence, turning with unspoken accord to look towards Hogsmede and the expected fireworks. The silence was calm and light, almost as heady as the brandy. Usually the Potions Master experienced shared silence as a burden, something to be filled with words to stave off punishment, rancour or blame. Even with Albus there was some degree of expectation in the silence. It had been so long since he had stood with people who for the moment expected nothing of him, or were not afraid of him. Severus savoured the moment for as long as he could, knowing that such things were rare indeed.

The first burst of startling colour rose above the distant town and Severus leaned into the silence, the heady brandy and brilliant display of joy, ushering in the New Year in company for the first time in more than a decade.

0o0o0o0