This is ridiculously shorter than I had initially intended, but I knew that this was the best place to end at. I needed to let Harry be girly for a bit (because, honestly, who wouldn't if they had just spent the night with Ron?) and now I'm trying to arrange my own thoughts regarding the next chapter. So... I guess this is a filler chapter? Sorry!
I hope you enjoy it... despite it's pitiful length.
Disclaimer: STILL. DON'T. OWN. -sob-
That night, with his head resting on Ron's pale, extremely freckled chest, Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling.
Finally, after over twenty years, his life was working out.
Voldemort was gone.
He had finally succeeded in fading into obscurity.
And, quite unbelievably, his best friend loved him back.
It was absolute bliss and he wanted to spend the next few hours just basking in the fact that his feelings hadn't been unrequited all those years.
Not to mention that the sex had been brilliant.
For having played straight for the last few years, Ron had known exactly what to do when it came down to it. He knew exactly where to touch Harry to make him cry out, exactly where to kiss Harry to make him shiver, and exactly what to say to make Harry blush...
He drifted off into the memories of their hours spent making love... Just thinking about the way Ron's hair had clung to his forehead, which was dotted in sweat as he made love to Harry... It made him shiver in pleasure.
"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, grinning down at Harry.
A light blush found it's way to Harry's pale cheeks at the inquery. "I'm fine," he mumbled, burying his face into Ron's chest once more.
The ginger chuckled at his friend's - now lover - response, clearly amused by his sudden shyness.
"If you say so."
For the remainder of the night, the two of them stayed like that: Harry cuddled as closely as possible to Ron. He didn't want to risk letting him go for a moment for fear that he might wake up and it would've all be a dream.
The next morning, Harry woke and looked up at Ron's sleeping face with a warm, sleepy smile. In spite of the fact that the ginger was snoring like a chainsaw and his mouth was hanging wide open, he was still, by far, the most gorgeous thing Harry was sure he'd ever seen. And, at least for now - if not for the rest of his life - he was all Harry's.
The thought made him feel much more girly than he cared to admit. After all, he had saved the wizarding world, facing off with Voldemort; shouldn't he be a bit more manly than he was currently behaving?
Shaking off his embarassment at himself, he slid from Ron's arms and pulled on his boxers before padding barefoot off in the direction of the kitchen.
He knew Ron well enough to realize that when he finally woke from his slumber, his stomach would be growling like a Hungarian Horntail. So, in an effort to ease his inner dragon, Harry began looking through the pantry in an attempt to circumvent his hunger.
However, after a quick survey of the contents of his kitchen, Harry was only able to find a half-eaten box of crackers, some oatmeal, and leftover takeout boxes in his refridgerator. Frowning at the now closed door of the refridgerator, Harry decided he would have to dress and make a quick trip to the shop before Ron woke.
Walking into his room, he smiled to see Ron still asleep, his entire body sprawled across Harry's full size bed. Then, he quietly began dressing.
After he was finished, he scrawled a quick note to Ron and left it on the bedside table before he grabbed his wallet and keys and left the flat.
He skipped stairs, humming idly to himself as he did so. In spite of the fact that it was another gloomy day in London, Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking warmly about how good it would feel to walk back into his flat and have Ron waiting on him.
So wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't pay much attention to where he was walking and managed to run into someone.
Hurriedly, he snapped out of it and went to apologize only to realize he knew the person.
"Hermione..."
Oh my! What's gonna happen? I'm awful at pretending to be suspenseful.