Penname: Page of Cups
Email: AndromedanPrincess@hotmail.com
Title: Everything Changes
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Summary: It's been awhile and Ron isn't satisfied
Caution: Boy on boy love ahead. Dangerous territory. Tread lightly.
Disclaimer: This story contains characters, locations, and other random things created and/or owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc., etc. Since no money is being made, no infringement is intended. Section 102(b) of the U.S. Copyright Act states that copyright protection does not extend to ideas, procedures, concepts, principles or discoveries, but the actual words used to express those things. I know. I'm researching my copyright abilities.
Chapter Seven: Titles
There was early December frost glistening over the grass outside and Ron wished he had a heavier cloak on as he, Harry, and Hermione headed outside of the castle and in the direction of Hagrid's Hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Glancing through the other students already crowded near the paddocks, Ron searched for one head of white blond hair and felt himself smile upon seeing it. Draco was standing between Crabbe and Goyle, his arms wrapped around his torso and looking like he was in an extremely foul mood due to the wind that was currently whipping his hair about. It was, in a way, a pleasant sight for Ron to be seeing as the only other time he saw Draco without his hair slicked back was when they were in bed together.
"Praise to whatever gods that care!" cried Malfoy. "We can start class now. Potter and company have finally arrived."
"Cold, Malfoy?" said Harry, who had been fighting with Draco more and more recently for reasons unknown. Ron theorized it was so that Draco didn't have to fight with Ron as much.
Brushing back a piece of blond hair, Malfoy sneered. "Just a bit but I suppose you're just fine. That scarred head of your must give you some kind of internal heating system."
"Actually, I just had the good sense to put a heating charm on my cloak."
Malfoy pulled a face that Ron wanted to laugh at in a pleasant way instead of the malicious snickers he would have made a month ago. From the way his lips twisted and his eyes darkened, Ron could tell Malfoy was irritated he hadn't thought of it first. Now that Ron thought about it, he was irritated he hadn't thought it first. Harry had to start sharing some of that good sense he kept so well hidden but spoke of so frequently.
"'Ello!" said Hagrid, coming out from the paddock and guiding a large, furry animal with pure white hair and bright, blue eyes. Ron was strangely reminded of Malfoy, but that could be because almost everything reminded him of Malfoy lately. "Calle' millydiddles, they are. 'S a common pet fer busy witches an' wizards, you see? Relieve stress."
"I could use one of those," said Harry, morosely.
"They're 'armless an' I got one fer each of yeh in the paddock."
The girls didn't need for Hagrid to go any further. Even Hermione was swooning over the millydiddle and she followed Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown into the paddock to retrieve her animal as Hagrid was going on about them eating only plants, preferably fruits. Ron thought they looked like some muggle toy one of the second year Gryffindor had called a furby. Where were it's feet and where did it's body end for it's head to begin?
Walking into the paddock after the rush of girls, Ron and Harry started inspecting the millydiddles. They were all white by nature, according to Hagrid, and made soft, cooing noises when they were happy. In fact, a soft, cooing sound was filling the entire paddock as they buzzed around Ron's feet. In size, they weren't very large as the biggest came up to Ron's knees and that one looked huge compared to the rest. Seamus took the oversized millydiddle and Ron took one in his arms that was about the size of a puppy.
"Weasley," acknowledged Draco, staring down at the millydiddles.
"Malfoy."
It had been a little under a month since they first slept together and Draco proposed making an exception to his shag twice rule. Since then, they had been together at least twice a week, meeting between classes, after Draco's Quidditch practices, and anytime they could find to be alone. Most of these meetings Draco had set up and were located anywhere from empty classrooms, the borders of the Forbidden Forest, the Astronomy Tower, or the Head Boy room again. Ron wasn't particularly pleased with his own behavior but he could finally comprehend why so many people had been eager to get back in bed with Draco a second time. He couldn't get the blond out of his head and Ron tried to hold himself back from developing any real feelings. More than once had a person had his or her heart broken at the expense of Draco Malfoy.
As they returned to where the other students had gone, Ron walked over to a nearby tree and sat on the ground, trying to ignore the fact the ground was wet and it was quickly seeping through his robes.
"You're going to get sick sitting in the grass like that," said a cold, drawling voice that could only belong to one person. Looking up, Ron saw that Malfoy had separated himself from the rest of the class as well and was glancing down at Ron with his millydiddle in his arms.
"What do you care if I get sick, Malfoy?" said Ron, petting his millydiddle and deciding it needed a name.
"Because if you get sick, who will I shag?" said Draco, his voice so low that Ron almost didn't distinguish the words. "Honestly, Weasley, doesn't that bother you?"
"Not especially. Does it bother you?"
"Yes. Just watching you sit in the dampness bothers me."
"Good," said Ron, smirking.
"Ron! You're going to get sick if you sit in the grass!" said Hermione, coming up beside him. "You can't get sick this close to Christmas. There will be so many exams you would miss!"
"What are you bugging him about now, Malfoy?" said Harry, joining them. "Why can't you just leave Ron alone?"
"Because if I left him alone, Potter, who would remind Weasley that he's even more insignificant than he thinks?" drawled Draco, looking sincere.
Playfully rubbing his millydiddle's fur, Ron looked up and said, "And if Malfoy didn't do that, who would retract his head from his arse long enough to see he's got nothing to be vain about?"
"You're very funny, Weasley. You and McGonagall should get together and tell jokes."
"You and Seamus should get together and start an organization for the chaste."
"At least I get laid."
"Go away, Malfoy," interrupted Harry. "We don't want your filthy, ferret claws anywhere near us."
"But then who would I have fun with? I suppose I could go back over with the class. That great oaf Hagrid still bursts into tears when I call him inept. You would think he'd be used to it by now."
"Don't you dare say anything to Hagrid," said Hermione.
Malfoy didn't reply as he grinned wickedly and put one of his hands in the pockets of his robes, still holding his millydiddle with the other. Supposing the millydiddles did do something for stress, Ron considered handing his to Hermione or Harry. Ron was nothing short of relaxed and he knew it had nothing to do with the fact he understood what Malfoy was doing better than Malfoy himself probably did. This was their way of being intimate in public. It often fueled feelings that needed to be fucked out later.
"My my, Weasley, would you look at the state of these robes," said Malfoy, removing his hand from his robes and brushing his hand over the cuff, carefully sliding his palm across Ron's.
"Don't touch him, Malfoy," said Harry, ripping Draco's hand away. "Get away from us and don't start anything with Hagrid."
"I'm going, Potter. No need to embark upon one of your Potter heroism acts." Draco coolly turned from Harry to glance down at Ron. "Weasley," he acknowledged, cocking his head slightly to the side before turning around and swaggering back to where Goyle and Crabbe were.
Clutched in Ron's fist was the note Draco had slid into his hand before Harry pulled him away.
~*~
"Where are you going tonight?" asked Hermione. "You've been going out at night for weeks now and you haven't told Harry or I where."
"Sorry, Hermione, for not telling you every single detail of my life. I didn't know I couldn't have a life or friends outside of our trio. From now on, I'll be sure to clear things with you first before I make plans."
"I didn't say that, Ron," she huffed.
"Really, Ron, don't jump down Hermione's throat like that," said Harry.
"Sure, take her side," said Ron. "Just because I go out at night to be with other people doesn't mean that I have to tell you who or where. I don't always have to be following you around in your shadow, Harry."
"Where is this coming from? Did I do something wrong?"
"No," said Ron, sighing. "Look, I have someone to meet, ten minutes to get there, and I can't be late."
"Is this the same person you've been meeting since November?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, okay? Now can I go or would you like to berate me some more?"
"I never said you couldn't go," said Hermione. "Just don't get in trouble, Ron. It's getting late and Gryffindor can't afford to lose any points right now."
Ron nodded. After Neville managed to make a sleeping potion instead of a simple flu medipotion, Snape took seventy points from Gryffindor and threatened them with one hundred if they protested. Being caught out after curfew would not do their house any good right now and Ron did not want to be the one the blame landed on. Neville was getting enough grief as it was without Ron adding to it.
It was a very rushed walk that Ron made his way to the Head Boy room, Draco's note still laying in one of his pockets. Trying to force Hermione's and Harry's concerns away, Ron turned into the prefects corridor. He knew they meant well but he didn't want to be protected. If he wanted to fuck his life up by doing what he was doing with Malfoy, then that was his own choice. Giving a rushed knock to the door after checking to see if anyone was hanging around in the halls, Ron grinned as Draco cracked the door open and Ron slipped inside.
"You're just in time," said Draco, husky as he pressed Ron's wrists against the door and kissed him hard on the lips, biting the bottom and tugging at it.
"Hermione wanted to know where I was going," he replied, gasping as Draco rolled his hips forward.
"And what did you tell her?"
Hissing as Draco pressed the entire length of his body against Ron's, he said, "That she didn't need to know every detail of my life."
"Very good, Weasley. Were you nasty when you said it?"
"I was irritated, Malfoy. I want them to mind their own business."
"Them?"
"Harry wanted to know, too."
"I think they should mind their own business. Unless, of course, they want to be invited to the party."
"I don't really fancy sharing you, Malfoy," said Ron, already frustrated with all the talk. He had been anticipating this moment since he first felt the parchment slide into his hand and he didn't want to wait much longer to be claimed.
"Aren't we selfish?" teased Draco as Ron struggled against his hold.
"A bit," said Ron. Being stronger, he had managed to get hold of Draco's wrist with one hand and slipped the other out of his grip. Grabbing the back of Draco's robes with his free hand and twisting Draco's arm behind his back with the other, Ron forced the blond across the room and onto the bed.
There was always a power struggle with them and here the power had shifted already since Ron's arrival. Draco's left arm was still twisted behind his back, his right arm now pinned to the mattress above his head by Ron's fingers. Pieces of blond hair had fallen over his forehead and cheeks as Draco turned his head to the side, his cheek slammed into the material. Normally he wouldn't allow this but Weasley was so much stronger than he was and even if he wasn't, it was a positive change to be dominated. Draco never thought he'd find it so appealing.
Ron's lips brutally crushed against Draco's as he moved to straddle Draco's hips, his erection poking Draco in the back. Squirming, Draco released a low moan as Ron licked his way to Draco's neck and began sucking at the pulse point. When this was over, Draco was definitely going to need that concealment spell.
Releasing the wrist Ron held above Draco's head, he brushed back a piece of blond hair that was laying across the back of Malfoy's pale neck. Burying his fingers in the blond hair, Ron tightened his fingers around the strands into a painfully tight fist. Draco yelped at the sensation, slightly starting to thrash as Ron bit into the flesh just below the hairline before soothing the sting away with his tongue. Finally releasing the arm Ron had pinned behind Draco's back, he readjusted his hand in Draco's hair, hooked his arm around Draco's thigh, and flipped him onto his back.
"You're sinful, Weasley," said Draco, his drawl freakishly sexy in such a position.
Ron wanted to touch more of him, play with him some more before Draco's urge for power took over again, but Draco had already taken charge. He was still on the bottom but there was no question as to who was in control as Draco undid Ron's cloak and allowed it to drop from his fingers. He leaned up tug on Ron's earlobe with his teeth as he loosened the Gryffindor tie and pulled his teeth away just long enough to pull the tie over Ron's head.
A slight sting was coursing through every piece of flesh Draco had taken to nipping at with his teeth. The coppery taste of blood was slowly dripping onto his tongue from a slight split in the chapped flesh of his upper lip that Ron figured Draco must have busted open in one of their more violent kisses. Then Ron was naked from the waist up and Draco was running his tongue and teeth over his torso, sprinkled with sweat that mixed with Draco's saliva.
Pressing the heel of his right hand into Draco's hip, Ron set about loosening the silver clasp on Draco's cloak. He was becoming good at undressing Draco single-handedly and once the clasp was undone, Draco shrugged his body out of it. Ron felt Draco's leg wrapping around his own and Ron prepared himself for the flip. It was something Draco did all at once and left you disoriented the first few times, so masterful you almost wanted to dominate him so he would do it again. Now Draco was kneeling over Ron, his knees placed on either side of Ron's hips and he had gone back to tracing the patterns Ron's freckles made across his chest.
Ron had gone back to undressing Draco. The tie went first, falling from his fingers to the heap of clothes that had been gathered, partly on the bed and mostly on the floor. The sweater vest and shirt went next, Ron all but ripping the buttons off once he got to the crisp material of the white, collared school shirts. By the time he got to the button on Draco's trousers, Draco had already been working on Ron's and Ron shimmed out of his first with Draco doing the same not long after.
Briefly wondering if Draco ever wore underwear anymore, Ron dug his nails into the back of Draco's thighs and scraped them along the skin, making bright red lines and drawing the tiniest amount of blood at the origin. Draco had hooked his thumbs into the band of Ron's boxers before slowly tugging them over his hips and down his legs. The speed with which he did so was so slow that Ron felt tortured. He could feel his hips involuntarily buck on their own as Draco nuzzled his face in his inner thigh and bit hard on the flesh.
It never ceased to amaze Ron the way all thought seemed to be lost and his body shook when Draco finally entered him. He found it hard to hate someone when their head was thrown back in euphoria with pieces of sweaty blond hair clinging to a pale forehead and neck. They cried each other's surnames upon coming and Draco collapsed on Ron when they finished, completely drained.
"Gods, Weasley," Draco murmured against Ron's stomach.
"I could say the same thing about you," muttered Ron, allowing his fingers to linger in the mess that was once Draco's perfectly slicked back hair. "Do you know how sexy you look when your hair is like this?"
"I'm sexy when my hair looks like I don't own a comb?"
"No. Well, yes, but that isn't what I meant. You look sexy when you're hair isn't all slicked back. I never would have guessed it was so long. How do you get it all back?"
"Spell," he replied before rolling off Ron and heading for the bathroom. It was the same every time.
As Draco cleaned himself up in the bathroom, Ron rolled onto his side and propped his head up on the heel of his hand.
Why was he here like this? Everything was perfect until Draco went into the bathroom and shut the door, separating them. It wouldn't be so bad if Draco left the door open or didn't lock it, but Ron could always feel the distance settling in when the lock on that door clicked. Everything was going so wrong that Ron couldn't stand to continue this. He hated himself every time he left Draco's room and went back to Gryffindor.
Was he really so sick of being in the shadow's of others that he lavished on any attention he could receive, even if it was Malfoy groping him in the privacy of the Head Boy room (or anywhere they were when the mood took them)? He knew he needed to stop these meetings if he was going to ever retain any of his dignity but he loved the attention. Even more, he was developing feelings - strong feelings - for Draco. He felt weak, and he wondered how he got here, laying naked in Draco Malfoy's bed, hating himself, and feeling for Draco.
Walking into the room, Draco was toweling off his hair (which Ron presumed he had washed) and climbed back under the sheets. This took Ron by surprise as this had only happened once before. Typically this was the time when Draco threw his clothes at him and told him to get back before he got in trouble with Filch. Spooning against him, Draco wrapped an arm around Ron's waist and placed his palm flat against Ron's chest.
"Going to go back soon?" Draco asked, placing his chin on Ron's shoulder.
"Yeah. Soon," said Ron, yawning. "You wore me out."
"You always wear me out."
Draco heard Ron chuckle softly and before he could stop himself, he had placed a gentle kiss against a patch of freckles on Ron's shoulder. What was going on here? This wasn't supposed to be going on for a month. Draco supposed he should probably stop these meetings of theirs but it was hard to think about when Weasley was laying before him looking so perfect. It was going to have to be a coward's way out, then. Probably a letter by owl. This had to end. Weasley wasn't getting out of his head; he was digging his way in further. Draco couldn't be doing this with Weasley anymore. If it went on any longer, Draco was afraid he might start developing feelings and Draco Malfoy did not have feelings for anyone, much less a poor as dirt, muggle-loving Weasley.
"What are we?" said Ron, softly. Draco didn't know how to honestly answer that, so he said the only thing that came to mind.
"What?"
Not his best work, really.
"What are we? We've been having sex for weeks, we still fight in class . . . I don't know, Malfoy. I'm confused on what's going on here. What are we?"
"Do we really need a title?"
"I need a title. I need to know where and on what grounds I stand with you."
How was Draco supposed to answer when he wasn't sure himself? This question had been haunting him since the first time with Weasley.
"We're enemies," he finally answered.
"Enemies don't meet in the middle of the night to have sex."
"I don't like you Weasley," Draco spit out. There was no way Weasley was going to make him have feelings. Relationships were for losers and mudbloods. "I don't like you and I've already told you what you are to me. You're just another hole. A talented one, but that's it."
Weasley had rolled over in bed now, away from Draco and once he extracted himself from the covers, he started dressing. Now this looked familiar. Draco sighed. He had royally screwed this up but it beat sending an owl to deliver the message anyway. As long as Weasley was asking for it, Draco wouldn't disappoint.
"So you pant my name like a bitch in heat because I'm just another hole," said Ron, gruffly as he pulled on his shirt.
"I think my vocabulary is having a bad influence on you."
"I need to know, Malfoy," said Ron, finishing dressing as he pulled on his cloak. "What am I to you? Am I really just another hole?"
"Stop being such a pussy, Weasley. We have sex. That's it."
"Okay," he said, his voice eerily calm. Running his fingers through his hair, Ron gave Draco a sad smile and Draco realized that Ron hadn't gone flush like usual when they were fighting. "It's been nice, Malfoy. See you around."
"Weasley," said Draco, but Ron hadn't listened this time. He didn't look back as he opened the door to Draco's room and left, not bothering to check the hallways for eyes that shouldn't be seeing him leave.
This was written before book 5. Forgive inconsistencies. Have fixed and edited the next Ron/Draco series that will be coming out, though. And come on . . . where is the love? I thought it was going to be everywhere after Weasley is our King and the fact that Ron and Harry seemed to have switched brains.