Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
"Space, in my life, give me lots of room to grow. Pull my ears, back with the words. Heart beats heard. You have my chest full of cold night air in my lungs; limping on two legs again"
Chapter Fifty-Four
"I Take All The Blame"
Ron and Severus
He heard the breaking of glass, shattering against the floor as the contents of his desk were shoved to the ground, only to be replaced by him, his brow furrowed as his lips ghosted the pale skin of Severus' neck, sending involuntary shivers down his spine and making it arch ever so gently.
Clothes were being torn from bodies, landing in pools of fabric on the glass ridden floor, bodies finally revealed in the moonlight, casting dramatic shadows on their faces as they grasped desperately at each other.
And then he slid into him, not a moments thought between the thoughts and the action, only instinct as the redhead gasped, a whimper dripping from his parted lips as those hips perfected a rhythm that made Ron's head spin.
Severus could feel the boy's heartbeat change as climax took over, his eyes glazed and hollow, shutting tight as a scream tore from his swollen lips. He swallowed it with his own mouth, his hips resting against his creamy white skin, so soft beneath his own calloused hands as he panted, waiting for those eyes to re-open, waiting to move.
And once those blue eyes opened, he did move; pulling away gently before sitting on the bench Ron still lay upon, his chest heaving in shallow breaths, never quite easing the burn in his lungs.
Ron sat up beside him, still shaking as he reached for his clothes, now strewn along the teacher's desk. He dressed quickly, Severus watching his hasty movements as his heart ached, stung from the sudden loss he felt. An illogical feeling he pushed away immediately.
The redhead turned to leave, Severus' voice the only thing heard between the ticking of the unforgiving clock and the resonant sound of their hearts.
"Is everything-?"
"Fine." He nodded before ducking out the door. Severus wallowing in the emptiness he felt before dressing himself, and moving to clean his disheveled desk.
--
Dedication: To Alaramine, who has topped the wierd list with this pairing, though I think I pulled it off pretty well, you tell me.
Author's Note: Sometimes I dislikes writing slash because of the confusion on the he's and his's and crapola. But I do like this one, for some very odd reason. Song by Tegan and Sara, Review! --Delta
