"I don't see why we have to be here," Pansy Parkinson whined, twisting her arm around Draco's and giving him a pathetic look. Draco's expression darkened at her words, his eyes never wavering from Ron's distant form. He hadn't wanted to bring Pansy along, but she had insisted, as usual, on following him like she was his shadow. He hoped that she would be gone by the time he got Weasley on his own, and had the oppurtunity to make good on his threat.
He ignored Pansy's question and continued studying Ron. He looks so sexy in his Quidditch robes, he thought dreamily, imagining what it would be like to remove those robes, reveal Weasley's body in full and then... He was jerked out of his daydream by Pansy's hand massaging his upper thigh.
"Pansy, you're such a whore," he snapped, swatting her hand away. She pouted at his side, still clinging to his arm. He stared as Ron deflected the Quaffle, thwarting the Ravenclaw chasers. Ron was having a particularly good match: he wasn't freezing up in front of the crowd, or doing anything stupid. Draco felt oddly proud of Ron, even though he really had no right to be.
Ron, despite how well he was doing, was very nervous. He had spotted Draco sitting in the bleachers, Pansy glued to his side as usual. For some reason, he felt a wave of anger every time he saw the pug-faced Slytherin girl lay a hand on Draco. No way are you jealous, he told himself sternly. You are NOT falling for that Malfoy git. Even as he thought this, he couldn't deny that the word 'git' was thought half-heartedly, without the usual bite of his insults towards the blond.
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The match ended, with Gryffindor winning by a slim 15 points. Draco watched as the victorious team disappeared into the locker room.
"Draco," Pansy's wheedling voice was buzzing in his ear again like a mosquito. "Can we go now?" Draco sighed.
"Why don't you just go ahead, Pansy? I'll be up in a minute," he made an effort to wink seductively at the petite girl, who laughed in that high-pitched way she always laughed, and left after rubbing her chest against his side. She was such a slut.
Draco strode down off the bleachers, and across the playing field, in the direction of the locker rooms. The ominous crackle of far-off thunder split the humid air, and the first half-hearted drops of rain plummeted to the earth. Students began rushing back to the castle, trying to beat the downpour, but, to Malfoy's delight, Ron was not among them. He must still be in the locker room, he thought, licking his lips as he realized how perfect this situation was turning out to be.
Malfoy traipsed into the Gryffindor locker room, which was almost silent, other than the quiet rustling of cloth on skin. Draco's footsteps were quiet, and went undetected by Ron, who was dressing on the other side of the rows of lockers. He rounded the corner, to find the redhead, his shoe propped up on a bench as he tied the laces. The nape of his neck glistened wetly under his soaking hair: he obviously had been in a hurry to get dressed. The front of his robes and his shirt were open, revealing the slick skin of his strong, albeit skinny, chest.
"Ron," Malfoy murmured lustily. The redhead's face snapped up, sky blue eyes staring into Draco's face. He staggered backwards, but found only the cold metal lockers behind him.
"Malfoy..." he began, eyes wide in fear as Draco approached. "Get aw - " he was cut off by Malfoy's kiss, deep and needy on Ron's lips. The Slytherin's hot palms pressed against Ron's chest. Ron struggled and squirmed, trying to break away from Draco's lips, but only succeeded in being pressed more firmly against the locker doors.
He moaned involuntarily against Draco's searching tongue as his nipples were rubbed. His knees went weak again, and he slid to the floor, Malfoy sliding with him. Draco had his hands on the sides of Ron's face, his knee between his legs, when a rattling came from the doorknob. A sound of frustration slipped from Malfoy's lips as a muffled voice said:
"Oy, Ron? You in there?" Draco pushed himself up and away from the Gryffindor, and disappeared around the row of lockers just as Harry burst into the room. He looked around, then down at Ron on the floor. His expression was questioning and confused. "What are you doing down there?" He asked, brow knitting.
"I, uh... I fell," Ron said, flustered and breathing raggedly. He took Harry's hand and hoisted himself up, hoping Harry wouldn't notice the blush on his face, or his slightly swollen lips. Harry glanced at him doubtfully, but made no comment.
"Well, then, get yourself dressed and come on," he said, "It's taking you long enough." Ron laughed half-heartedly, the memory of Malfoy's knee between his legs invading his thoughts. Humiliation came along with it. What was he, a girl? He had just let Draco do it to him! He gritted his teeth as he buttoned up the front of his shirt. No way was he going to let this happen again. Never again, he thought, determined, as Harry led him out of the locker room.
Author's Note: Ugh, I feel like this chapter is TERRIBLE. But oh well, here it is. PLEASE review, it makes me so happy. There are over 280 hits, but only four comments? How mean! But thank you to those of you who did review, I love you guys!