Grief.

Harry felt it like a large, cold stone in his stomach and throat. He carried it everywhere. Not just the grief. The anger, resentment, guilt. It all gnawed at him constantly. Even arriving at the Burrow early that summer, it was not enough to squash the feeling.

And he supposed that's where it all started. Lashing out, snapping at nearly everyone, who found it easiest to avoid him. Except Ron. Who would take whatever quips, whatever blows Harry decided to snap at him, just took it in stride. Ignored it, mostly. And was always ready to say 'It's okay' whenever Harry would mutter an apology after he cooled off. And it was comforting. The first bit of comfort Harry allowed himself to feel. And without realizing it for however much time passed, Harry didn't know, but soon all his aggression seemed to hit one target. Ron. Snapping at him during meals for seemingly no reason, feigning annoyance when Ron tried to be nice to him, shoving him gruffly when he accidentally bumped into Harry in the hallway. And it gave Harry such a release to chase the high of the comfort he got when Ron accepted his apology. Every single time.

On one particular evening after a disturbingly difficult day for Harry, in which Lupin and Tonks had visited, Harry had pushed down so many emotions and self-deprecating mental abuse, that that evening in a blinding rage, found himself yelling in Ron's room. He had no idea what he was rambling on about except for one key point: life was unfair. His life was unfair.

He had been throwing things. Whether they were his from his trunk, or Ron's, he did not remember. All he remembered was when he stopped to catch his breath, Ron was just sitting on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, watching him, his wand sitting next to him. Harry had stood, frozen for a moment, then walked over and sat on Ron's bed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, for what felt like the hundredth time since he had been at the Burrow.

"It's okay," Ron replied quickly. And Harry had known that he would. And felt the familiar relaxing sensation that came with it, immediately erasing the guilt he had been feeling.

"I shouldn't have yelled," Harry said, "Probably woke everyone."

"I did a silencing charm," Ron had told him, "You're okay."

"I trashed your room…"

Ron merely shrugged. He dropped his knees and scooted closer to Harry, who looked over at him.

"Look," Ron said softly, "What you're going through, it's a lot. So I get it. Yell. Throw things. Take it out on me. I'm your best friend, I'll help any way I can."

The words seemed to take all the air out of Harry's lungs. There was nothing driving him besides his body when he lunged at Ron, swiftly pinning him down by his shoulders, and kissed him. He could feel Ron's body go very tense underneath him, which seemed to spark something in Harry's mind. He tightened his legs around Ron's waist as he sat up enough to look at Ron, still pinning him by his shoulders. He looked shocked, and slightly scared.

"You make me feel better," Harry said, searching his eyes. He saw something soften, though he still looked mildly terrified.

"Okay…" Ron said quietly. Slowly. "Then…you can keep going. It's okay."

It was all the permission Harry had needed. He leaned back down and kissed Ron deeply, so forcefully he pushed him hard into the mattress. He easily worked Ron's mouth open with his own, plunging his tongue inside, and beneath him he felt Ron's hands sliding up his arms, gripping onto him to pull himself closer. And for the first time, Harry had felt completely decompressed. In control. And he knew he could never let that go.

The occurrences quickly turned nightly, Harry always chasing the high of comfort Ron gave him. Which turned from verbal to almost physical. The kissing, always frantic and forceful. Pinning Ron beneath him giving him the assurance that Ron would not leave. Hearing him gasp whenever Harry bit him sharply on the neck or jaw, or when he ground into his hips and caused a spark of friction, was like music to Harry's ears. Sometimes a gasp of pain, sometimes pleasure. But Ron was always there, clinging to him, pushing his body against Harry's.

But Harry could not get enough. On one particular night while Harry was immersed in the pleasure of kissing Ron, he rolled onto his side, releasing the grip on his shoulders, but still attached to his lips. He felt Ron relax next to him, easily keeping with the pace and rhythm of Harry's mouth, as he always did. Harry slid a hand down Ron's waist and found his waistband and started pulling down, and Ron froze.

"Trust me," Harry whispered, continuing to slide his pants down. He kissed Ron gently and locked eyes with him as he propped himself up on one elbow, and slid the other hand into Ron's boxers. He watched with interest as Ron dropped his head onto the pillow and closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. For a few minutes Harry enjoyed the expressions that crossed Ron's face as he fondled him. Harry gave a quick glance at the door, then back toward Ron and smiled slightly as he stopped fondling his now erect member, and lowered his hand, running one finger along his crack. He felt Ron go completely tense and his eyes blinked open. Harry quickly tilted his head to kiss Ron on the cheek and waited for the moment he knew Ron would always push angle his face against him, momentarily dazed by the tenderness, before plunging two fingers deep inside him. Anticipating that Ron would scream, he swiftly sat up and used his other hand to cover Ron's mouth.

"Did you do a silencing charm?" Harry asked quietly, Ron's entire body was tense, and under Harry's hand he shook his head quickly, trying to move away, but Harry continued moving his fingers slowly, rocking in and out. "Then…" he stopped watching his hand for a moment to look up at Ron, who's eyes were squeezed tightly in pain, he made small whimpering noises under Harry's other hand, "I need you to be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me?" when Ron nodded Harry carefully pulled his hand away from his mouth.

"It hurts," Ron whispered in a quivering voice, gripping the sheets of the bed tightly, "Harry…please…I don't…" He stammered.

Harry's jaw tightened as he fought the urge to thrust his fingers harder, but he still went slow he leaned down again and kissed Ron gently on the lips, which seemed to barely relax him as it usually did.

"Just relax," Harry whispered back, "It will only hurt for a moment, I promise. Relax."

"I don't think I can," Ron whimpered, his eyes still shut, "It…it really hurts."

Harry couldn't contain a small growl that left his throat at the tone of Ron's voice. He wanted to go slow, for Ron's sake, but everything else that was driving him made him speed up his thrusting. Every sharp gasp and slight whimper spurred him on. Harry took a moment to look back at Ron, who had been trying very hard not to move. His hands still gripped the sheets. Harry saw the wiry bruising that wrapped around his arms, leftover from the brain tentacles at the Department of Mysteries. He bent down and kissed Ron again.

"You're doing good," he whispered, a few inches from his face, "You just need to try and relax. It'll be okay. Just relax."

"Okay," Ron whispered anxiously. Harry watched him take a deep breath, and smiled when he felt Ron's body slightly unclench around his fingers.

"Good," Harry whispered, slowing down his thrusting and rotating his fingers slightly, Ron squirmed, still looking uncomfortable. Harry sat up swiftly, removing his fingers, and straddled Ron's waist. Ron looked up at him, still somewhat fearful. Harry gripped Ron's waist and swirled circles on his hips with his thumbs. Ron was breathing heavily as Harry looked down at him.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Harry said quietly.

There was a pause where Ron swallowed heavily. Harry watched him, waiting. Then finally it came, just as Harry knew it would.

"It's okay," Ron said finally, he let go of the sheet and slid his hands up Harry's arms, "It…it didn't…well it did. But, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting it."

Harry slid back slightly and pulled Ron into a seated position, pulling him close so their chests were pressed together. Harry pushed his lips gently against Ron's, planting his hands tightly on his hips. Harry pulled back, but rested his forehead against Ron's as he matched Ron's heavy breathing, trying to slow down his urge to simply just pin Ron down and take him. But he couldn't risk Ron getting scared. He couldn't risk losing him.

"I just want you to know," Harry murmured, raising a hand and gently touching the side of Ron's face, "I love you. More than anyone."

"You…what?" Ron choked out.

"I love you," Harry repeated, "And I need you. You make me feel so much better. About everything. I just…I guess I wanted to show you that."

Harry could feel Ron's entire body relax beneath him, even his breathing slowed down. He pulled his head away from Harry's and gazed at him with a small smile. Harry waited.

"I love you, too," Ron said softly, almost bashfully.

Harry smiled and grabbed Ron's arms to pull their bodies back together. He kissed Ron with great force, hearing a small, familiar whine that often came from Ron every time Harry kissed him in a way he liked. Harry began rocking his hips, he was still quite hard himself. He gripped Ron's hips tightly, forcing him to move in tune with his body. Ron's breathing became ragged and Harry could feel a growing bulge between them.

"Can I show you?" Harry whispered gruffly in Ron's ear, tightening his hold on Ron's hips.

"Um," Ron stammered, hesitating in his movements now.

"Don't you trust me?" Harry asked, trying for a calmer tone.

"Yeah, I do," Ron replied in a small voice, "I just…uh…okay. I'll try."

Harry gently pushed him back on the pillow, once again straddling Ron's waist. He leaned down and kissed him as he raised his hips to pull Ron's boxers down. He sat back up and looked down at Ron, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but he felt the familiar rush that came with using Ron like this, and he had grown impatient.

"It will only hurt for a moment," he said quietly, "But try to be quiet." He slid his own pants and boxers down his hips, and caught Ron watching him intently. "If you can. Just try to relax, remember."

Afterwards, Harry had collapsed next to Ron on the bed, both of them breathing heavily. Harry felt blissfully lightened of most of the negative emotions he had felt throughout the day. He had gotten completely lost in the pleasure, gripping Ron's waist tightly as he had thrusted deeply. He barely remembered seeing anything. Only feeling, and hearing the frequent gasping and occasional cries muffled by Ron turning his face into the pillow. He had felt Ron gripping onto his wrists, tightening with each thrust.

Harry turned over in the bed. The room was completely dark, now. The lamp had dimmed itself a short while ago, and there was no moon light shining through the window. He reached out a hand to find Ron's, which was trembling. A small flicker of fear rippled through Harry.

"Are you okay?" He asked, squeezing Ron hand. Another flicker of fear rippled through him as a thought went through his mind that maybe he had gone too far.

"Talk to me, please," he whispered, "Are you okay?" He leaned over to kiss Ron's cheek, and was startled to find that his face was wet. Harry quickly sat up, still holding Ron's hand. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to…I didn't want to hurt you." Harry couldn't help a nagging little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him that that wasn't completely true.

Ron sat up slowly, taking a shaky breath. Harry waited, although he didn't feel as sure about it coming this time.

"It's okay," Ron said finally, his voice quivering, "It…yeah it hurt a lot. But it's okay. I know it wasn't like…on purpose or anything."

Harry felt a release of guilt and he sighed in relief. He shifted so he was closer to Ron and pulled him into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him, and kissed the top of his head. He hated the feeling of Ron's body trembling. Either out of pain, or fear, Harry didn't want to know. He just wanted it to stop. He held Ron for a few moments, running his hands up and down his back, until he heard his breathing slow, and felt the trembling stop.

"Better?" Harry asked gently, and smiled when Ron nodded against his chest. Harry sighed again and pulled him down so they were laying next to each other, with Ron's back against his chest. Harry snaked a hand around his waist and held him tightly.

"Will you sleep with me?" Ron asked softly, placing a hand over Harry's.

Screws began turning in Harry's mind as he considered this. He had already expected Ron to become fairly needy, that had been a given. On the other hand, he hadn't wanted himself to give in too soon. He needed control of the situation. Of any situation, really. And Ron had proven time and time again that he was easily the one thing in Harry's life that would bend to his will.

"I don't really want to raise questions right now," Harry replied, trying to sound apologetic, "You know. I don't think I'm ready to be…out…around your family."

"We don't have to be," Ron said softly, "I just…wanted you to sleep here. Not every night…but…"

"I know," Harry whispered, kissing his shoulder, "But you know how people are always just popping in here. I'm sorry, I just don't think it's a good idea." He kissed Ron's shoulder again and waited.

"It's okay," Ron murmured, "I understand."

"I knew you would," Harry said, giving him a tight squeeze, "Did I tell you that I love you?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a laugh, "Yeah I think you did." He rolled over to face Harry. "I love you, too." He had a delicious look in his eyes that Harry took in hungrily, the eagerness to please.

"You're perfect," Harry murmured. And whatever way Ron decided to interpret that, Harry didn't care. He knew what he meant, and in that moment, that was all that mattered to him.

Harry spent most days in a fog. Suppressing whatever strong feeling he felt as much as he could to convince the rest of the household that he was fine. Sometimes, for brief moments, he could snap out of it. Long enough to look at Ron, who always smiled at him. And, as always for him, Harry's mind would flash images of what would happen at night, behind closed doors. Ron, underneath him, fingers and nails digging into Harry's arms or back as he pinned him down, which Harry knew was unnecessary, Ron would never go anywhere, but he liked doing it. He liked the reassurance. He liked everything about it. The way Ron always looked at him like he was begging for praise. The small, quiet gasps of pain. The way Ron's body clenched around him, almost making his thrusting difficult. And all of it gave Harry such a high, such a sense of control, that he could feel peace.

Convincing Ron to try it a second time had not been easy. Or the third time. By the fourth he had barely even tried to say no. Harry rewarded him by taking it slow for once. Leaving gentle kisses along his face and chest, Harry rocked his hips slowly and he pushed himself up, softly sliding his hands down Ron's sides and gripping his waist, watching him. Though he had that familiar needy look in his eyes, Harry could tell he still felt uncomfortable.

"You're doing so good, love," Harry whispered, and he smiled when he felt Ron's hips suddenly move with his, "You're taking it so well this time." Another roll of Ron's hips made him chuckle, he liked the way his words affected Ron so instantaneously that they were causing him pleasure. Harry quickened his pace slightly and a shock went through him as he heard Ron gasp, then moan loudly before turning his face into the pillow.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Harry asked quietly, "Or do you just like being told how good you are?" when he heard another muffled moan he laughed, "I thought so. You are good, love. You make me feel amazing."

The moaning spurred him on more than the small gasps ever had, he thrust deeply, groaning himself as his vision started to blur. He bent forward to put his face close to Ron's ear.

"You feel so good," he whispered heavily, "Does it feel good to you, now?"

Ron shuddered and turned his face away from the pillow.

"Yes," he replied, almost whining.

"Good," Harry said, leaning back up, "Can I go harder? Can you be a good boy and take it?" He smirked down at Ron who had closed his eyes at the words and raised his hips slightly, then nodded.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked teasingly, grabbing Ron's waist and pulling him closer, forcing his cock to go deeper, and Ron whimpered quietly. "Can you take it and be quiet?"

"I think so," Ron stammered, grasping at Harry's arms, "I'll try."

Harry easily quickened his pace, staring down at Ron, smiling as he saw that the pain had finally replaced itself with pleasure, as there was a faint smile on Ron's face as he bit his lip to try and not make a noise.

"Shit," Harry muttered under his breath, he was losing some control as emotions overwhelmed him, and quickly began thrusting harder. A cry from Ron brought him back from his emotional fog and he quickly leaned forward, pushing himself harder and deeper, and pressed his hand against Ron's mouth to smother the cry.

"So noisy," Harry whispered between trying to catch his breath, he chuckled as Ron cried out against his hand again, "But I like it. Go ahead, moan for me."

Ron hardly waited a moment before moaning underneath his hand, which was exactly what Harry had needed to hear. With one final thrust, he swore roughly under his breath as his body tensed, then relaxed. He uncovered Ron's mouth as he collapsed next to him on the bed, both of them catching their breath. Harry soon rolled onto his side toward Ron and kissed his shoulder.

"You're amazing," he murmured.

Ron sputtered a nervous laugh through his heavy breathing, still staring toward the ceiling.

"You are," Harry said, sliding a hand across Ron's waist, "And now you're mine." He kissed Ron's shoulder again as he pulled him closer. Whether or not Ron knew exactly what those words meant wasn't really his problem. "Right?"

Ron turned toward him, Harry recognized a sort of glimmer in Ron's eyes that often happened when he was hanging onto Harry's every word.

"Right," he whispered, smiling, then his smile drooped rather suddenly, "Um…" He trailed off, eyes dropping.

"What is it?" Harry asked, but he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Ron was very predictable.

"I guess you're…going to bed now?" Ron said quietly, still not looking up.

"Probably," Harry replied, reveling inside that he had been right. Outwardly, he sighed, rolling onto his back and staring toward the ceiling. "Does it really bother you that much?" He asked.

"Sometimes." Ron's voice was barely above a whisper.

Harry paused. He let the silence settle and could sense that Ron was getting anxious as he waited for Harry's response. Finally Harry said,

"I want to. But, honestly, neither of us can do a locking spell we trust. And…what if someone walks in? Fred or George? Your parents? I mean we can hear them if we're awake but if we're asleep we won't."

"I know…" Ron said, in the same small voice, "It just…it feels nice to have you here…after…"

Harry turned back onto his side and said,

"I can stay here for a while. Just not all night, okay?"

Ron looked up finally and nodded. They laid together for some time, Ron's back against Harry's chest, their hands interlaced at Ron's side. Harry let himself admit for a brief moment that it did feel nice just laying there, but quickly let that thought go. Once he was sure that Ron had fallen asleep, he climbed out of the bed, got dressed, and laid down on the cot, feeling uncomfortably cold as he set his gaze on Ron's sleeping body.

The next morning Harry's mind felt so clear that he thought he might be sick. But there was a lighter feeling about him that he very much enjoyed. He got up and started getting dressed with Ron, and glanced over at him just before Ron had pulled his shirt on. His eyes scanned Ron's torso for a moment.

"Come here," Harry finally said, dropping his own shirt from his hands, and smiled as Ron instantly walked over.

"What?" Ron asked, blushing slightly.

"Nothing," Harry said, grabbing his hands and pulling Ron against him, his brain shuffled around, trying to settle on words he knew Ron would like, "I just wanted to kiss you before we go downstairs."

Ron smiled, still a dull shade of red, and leaned forward to kiss Harry, who placed his hands on Ron's waist. Harry instantly felt Ron flinch and quickly pulled away.

"What's wrong?" He asked, raising a hand to stroke the side of Ron's face.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly, the smile returning to his face.

Harry kissed him again, dropping his hand back to Ron's waist, and feeling him flinch again. Harry pulled away even though Ron tried to keep kissing him. He looked down to where he had placed his hands and saw purple and red bruising on either side of Ron's waist, traveling toward his waist.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said gently, but quickly.

"I didn't know I was grabbing you so hard," Harry sighed.

"It's really okay," Ron said, grabbing one of Harry's hands, "I didn't even notice until you touched it."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, turning back into Ron, "I don't like hurting you."

"It doesn't hurt," Ron said, but Harry noticed a slight falter in his voice, "I'm fine. I promise. Just keep kissing me, okay?"

Harry chuckled lightly, but obliged. It was almost too easy.