The Odd One Out
Author: Raven (bloodink@hotmail.com)
Rating: R
Pairing: Ron 16/17
Warning: Slash, and incest, het
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine but JKR's, don't sue, blah, blah, blah.
A/N: 4th and last story in the Weasley Incest Series. Other stories in series, in order are, My Other Half, My Brother's Love, like Brother's Do, The Odd One Out.
~The Odd One Out~
The odd one out, when everyone had each other, he was left on the outside, alone. He had always wanted to be loved by them, to have the kind of love that they seemed to have for each other. It wasn't wrong to want to be loved like that, it shouldn't be wrong, but it was, so he would never tell.
No he wouldn't tell that he dreamed of Ginny, and her long hair, such a unique color, like no one else's in their family. Her eyes the same shade as the summer sky or her soft pale skin, and the freckles that peppered it so like his own. He didn't want to know if the pale freckles covered her whole body, he didn't want to feel if her skin was soft everywhere. He couldn't, shouldn't want to know the way she'd feel around him, or how it would be like to kiss her full lips.
It was wrong to think of her like that, so he wouldn't, he didn't dare.
But then he wouldn't admit to himself that he wondered if Charlie had scars covering his body from dragon claws that had come too close. Because he didn't wonder if Charlie's thighs were strong enough to hold him off the ground while he pounded into Ron, or if his arms could hold him so that he fit perfectly against his brother's chest.
It was wrong, so he wouldn't, because he couldn't.
That means that he didn't think about how Bill would taste in his mouth, salty or like cinnamon and spices. He didn't really want to know if Bill's cum had the same taste and smell as his skin, as Egypt like Charlie. He didn't want to know how it would feel like to run his hands through the long strands of hair loose from their binding, long red strands so like Ginny's.
He didn't think anything like that, it was wrong.
So when it came to wondering if Percy really was straight as a pole, he just didn't do that. Or wondering if Percy would take control, or submit to the pleasure of being taken by his younger brother. He wondered if Percy had had sex before, had it been with Penelope or someone else? How did he feel like, beneath the perfect shell that Percy had made for himself? Was he soft, was he hard, was he strong?
But he didn't wonder, he couldn't.
Not even when he pictured Fred and George kissing in his dreams. Nor when they asked him to join them. He didn't want to know if Fred and George were identical everywhere if they really were 1 in 2, he really didn't want to know if they made the same noises, groans, sighs, gasps, or if they looked alike when they climaxed in pleasure. He wasn't really sure that he wanted to know how it would feel like to have both of them in him, taking him as one person, almost how they were already.
He didn't want to question why it was so wrong to think such thoughts, because he knew they were wrong, they had to be, and they were.
So why when he sat in his room in the dark, why did he think of their hands on him, giving him pleasure as he stroked himself faster and faster, gasping for breath? So why did he cry when he came, alone in his room, because he wished that they'd love him in their special way, the bad way that was so wrong.
No he would never dare ask that they join him in this perverse fantasy of his, so he would be alone, the odd one out, because it was wrong to want to do more to his brothers, to his sister, to be with them so intimately.
And because it was so wrong, he'd never think such thoughts again, he wouldn't dare lest he get caught. He just wouldn't dare, even if he was the odd one out.