Chapter Six

Harry tore his lips away from Seamus as reality crashed in around him. There had been the slamming of a door, jolting them both out of the haze of lust that had settled over them.

Pushing Seamus off him, he immediately slipped out between the sheets and stood facing Ron's empty bed.

Oh god, what had he done?

He'd acted out of pure animal instinct. Desire for his best friend had still been simmering in his belly when Seamus chose to taunt him. How he went from hating him one moment, to wanting him the next was completely irrational. All of it was insane and now Ron had gone.

He'd watched as Seamus had crawled into his best friend's bed. Ron passed out and in no condition to object. Harry had done nothing to stop it and although he wanted so badly to switch positions, he'd never attempted to change anything last night.

Instead he had been furious at Seamus for having what he desired, but in truth he didn't have Ron and never would. In all sincerity Seamus had just been a lucky bastard who had managed to stumble drunkenly onto Ron's bed on the way to his own and never corrected his mistake. Harry was fairly certain that Seamus had not been in any shape to appreciate whose bed he lay in…let alone his companion. All the boy had wanted was a soft mattress to collapse on.

Why hadn't he seen this last night? Why had he been so unreasonable, so out of control? If he'd been thinking at all logically…this wouldn't have happened. Regrettably, there was no going back and a hell of a mess to clean up in front of him.

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Ron inched towards the shower wall, leaning his forehead against the sinfully cool tiles as lukewarm water pelted harshly down on his skin. The spray aimed at the back of his neck, was not nearly enough of a distraction from the images cascading through his mind or his engorged cock so perfectly hard, lying across his palm.

He had never fantasised about his friend. Harry and sex had never entered his thoughts, well not at the same time. It was an unbelievable shock for Ron to find himself aroused by that erotic kiss and the truth was it scared him. Terrified him, so much that he was sure he was going to be sick. It disturbed him that much, this forbidden lust that itched mercilessly under the surface of his skin, setting his nerves on fire.

Still, his hands never left his erection and as he concentrated on the monotonous gush of tepid water striking his naked flesh, the leisurely journey, forever swirling down the drain in an endless cycle… he became hypnotised and therefore not responsible for his fingers gliding over his slick erection. He was not to blame.

It was not his fault when the image of Seamus' arched back, head thrown back as Harry's teeth scraped torturously over his Adams apple had Ron pressing his forehead into the tiles, squeezing his eyes shut in panic.

Ron couldn't be condemned when his thoughts betrayed him and he mimicked the sharp cry of pleasure that had been torn out of Seamus' throat.

He tried to stop the inevitable from happening as he tightened his slick fingers over the base of his cock, as if he could somehow prevent the next onslaught of images from saturating his mind. Instead of playing back recent memories, his brain exposed new pictures of fresh torture, supplying him with just the right trigger to send him careening over the edge.

Green, so incredibly green yet tinged with the slightest hint of grey that they seemed almost smoky.

Not trained on him, but focused exclusively on the writhing creature underneath him, under his thrall. Ron could not help but want that smouldering gaze directed at him. The thought was out before he could repress it. A flicker of heavily sated lids and suddenly those knowing eyes were seeking him out across the room.

Ron gasped against the tile. One finger circled the head of his erection, a seductive tease that brought him that much closer to losing it.

A kiss bruised mouth stretched into a lazy grin as he thrust his pelvis down on a more than willing partner. Still, his eyes remained on Ron's as he pounded into Seamus tense body. The boy under him began to sob out his name; however those green eyes lingered solely on Ron's face, studying him, endeavouring to work him out.

Ron could not turn away as Seamus thrashed on the bed, yet Harry ignored his companion in favour of gazing openly at Ron's mouth. A tongue peeked out to lick hungrily across wet scarlet lips.

Ron groaned helplessly, he could almost taste their unique flavour on his own and he keened desperately at the distance that separated them.

All of a sudden his fingers were coated with warm ribbons of cum as a violent orgasm rippled through him. Ron collapsed boneless against the wall, biting viciously into his upper arm to stop himself from screaming into the empty shower stall.

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Harry was on his hands and knees tossing various bits of rubbish out from under his bed, searching for that elusive left shoe, black leather boot to be exact.

While he'd taken his time, fussing over what to wear, Seamus had thrown on a pair of faded jeans and a well loved 'Kenmore Kestrals' T-shirt and had been pacing for the past ten minutes between the door and Harry's bed. He was being ignored and didn't like it one bit. He scowled at the butt waving temptingly in his face. Harry was purposely evading conversation and he was damned if he'd allow 'the schools champion' to get away with it.

"Oh bloody hell, can't find anything under here" Harry muttered. Seamus snorted his agreement, pausing in his stride to swipe the missing boot from its hiding place. Somehow it had managed to wedge itself halfway between the wardrobe and the wall, only Seamus misjudged its desire to be found and yanked hard, sending him and the boot toppling backwards, his feet slipping out from under him and crashing to the floor in an undignified heap.

Seamus cursed loudly, taking a deep breath through clenched teeth as his brain finally registered the agony of his butt connecting with stone. "Ow…" he whimpered, pouting at the offending shoe then realising there was a much more deserving object for his wraith. He lifted his head to glare icily at Harry who was struggling to get out from under his bed.

Harry's entire body had jumped at Seamus' agonising scream. His dark, eternally bedraggled locks tangled in the exposed springs of the underside of his bed. When he slid backwards to see what had happened they held fast. Harry not grasping the situation, jerked harder in response to being ensnared.

The spring let go of its prize with a gentle ripping noise. Harry's eyes watered furiously as his scream rivalled that of Seamus. He blinked stupidly at the clump of hair that clung innocently to his favourite jumper; the stark black mass resembled a miniature Puffskein against the soft grey of his cashmere jumper.

Harry was still in a trance when a moment later a shoe came hurtling through the air and clobbered him on the side of his head. Immediately he spun to face him, growling at his attacker.

"What was that for?" he hissed, brandishing the weapon at Seamus.

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Ron switched off the taps before him; he shivered violently as he moved out of the stall and made his way to a low shelf crammed with fluffy towels. For an instant, as the soft white material slid blissfully over his exposed body, he thought of Malfoy and that gorgeous wave of pristine hair, so soft…

"Oh no" he gasped, hugging the towel closer to his naked frame. Ron had never felt so exposed. He was thinking about his own sex, in ways that had never crossed his mind. Somehow he couldn't quite believe that after one incident of becoming aroused by two friends making out, that he was suddenly all gay. It just wasn't possible…was it?

Ron shook his head, catching the movement in the mirror over the sink to his right.

He walked towards those haunted eyes, only as he drew near did it register that he was gazing at his own reflection. Ron flinched at the pale twin in the mirror. It was if the fire in his hair and the richness of his freckled skin had been leeched cruelly from his body.

He should have turned from his likeness, but instead he squeezed his eyes closed, gripping the edge of the sink, turning his knuckles deathly white.

Then they came…

Flash of green hidden under a forest of dark lashes.

Curve of his arched neck, beads of sweat escaping to places unknown.

Thrust of his hip, met with such intensely narrowed focus.

Eyebrow arched in interest.

Flick of his platinum hair.

Creamy skin that begs to be tainted.

His eyes the colour of brightly spun silver warring endlessly with flecks of icy grey.

Shadows entwining him from all sides, binding him tight.

Regret that seeps into his brittle armour and drowning him in unrelenting sorrow.

Pain that is so new it hasn't been mastered as yet.

Ron felt like the depraved voyeur through it all and in his mind he screamed because part of him craved, but he mustn't because it's immoral and wrong and all of those things he refuses to voice.

Why him? Why, when his life was so right, when all of his dreams were falling into place? Why now must he doubt?

His face was ashen in the mirror as he lifted a hand to pinch his cheeks. His skin flooded to a healthy pink as he viciously tweaked at his pale complexion with shaky fingers, but he was far from healthy, he was twisted, perverted, sick…

Seconds later, he was dry heaving into the gleaming white sink. There was nothing left in his stomach to throw up and the emptiness rasped painfully against his throat, still he believed that this slight discomfort is the punishment he deserved for having such thoughts. He continued to hang his head over the cold porcelain, attempting to purge his soul.

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"You are really very annoying. Do you know that?" Seamus grated out between clenched teeth.

Harry frowned, "I'm annoying?"

The sandy headed boy quirked an eyebrow in response.

"You threw a shoe at me?" Harry blurted out, shaking the boot at him as evidence.

"Exactly," Seamus smirked back at the cute boy baring his teeth at him.

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. "You do know that you are quite bonkers right?"

Seamus closed his eyes, counting to five in his head before opening them again.

"Ron" he stated.

Harry blinked. Like that was supposed to explain everything. Okay, maybe it did in some round about way; still it didn't mean Seamus had a right to be talking about his best friend.

"We are not discussing Ron?" he gritted out.

Seamus cocked his head to the side and exhaled noisily.

Oh, Harry recognised that sigh alright. It was the sigh that said 'you are a childish idiot and you are not mature enough to converse with me, you chicken shit.' or something along those lines.

"You know…"

"No, don't tell me. Whatever your opinions are, I don't want to hear them" Harry interrupted the self-righteous rant he just knew was going to come traipsing out the bloke's mouth. He understood Seamus couldn't help it, he was raised a blabbermouth and always stuck his nose in everyone's business, but not with him. Anyone else, fine, but if Seamus opened his gob right now, Harry would not be responsible for the carnage that would promptly ensue.

Seamus contemplated ignoring the threat laced in those words. His lips parted many times to enlighten Harry of his own theories on the subject, but he resisted at the deadly flare in those green orbs. He backed up a smidgen, just as the door opened and Ron entered the room, towel wound tight around his hips. Heavy curls of dusky red fell over his eyes obscuring him from view.

Silently, he moved over to his bed and sat down on the rumpled quilt, hanging his head slightly as not to catch either Harry's or Seamus' eye.