The elf never came, but Ron didn't think he would have been able to eat anyways. He felt sick. After Malfoy had left, Ron had noticed that his jeans felt uncomfortably tight, and with horror, looked down to find that he was half-hard. Greyback had always ignored Ron's cock both times he had had his way with him, which Ron was thankful for. But this time he had been left slightly aroused? He felt ashamed for his body reacting in such a way. What was he, some sort of sick masochist? Did he get off on being tortured?

Thus, his stomach growled, but he felt no desire to eat.

He curled up on the bed, willing his penis to shut the fuck up and calm down. He soon closed his eyes and fell asleep, too tired to carry on with his thoughts. He was so thirsty…

Ron stirred awake. He didn't know how long he had been out. Lying on his stomach, arms thrown haphazardly at weird angles, he lifted his head. What had woken him up, anyway? Looking to the table beside the bed, he saw a glass of water.

He snatched it up quickly, tipping it to his mouth. Thank god…

Ron finished the water quickly and set the glass down with a clink. He flopped back onto his stomach on the bed, burying his face into the pillow. He had just slept, yet he still felt so tired…

Then he heard rustling behind him in the doorway, and he turned his head to see who it was. Please don't be Greyback, Ron pleaded silently.

It wasn't. Malfoy stood again in the doorway, leaning on the frame and looking at him with a weird expression.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

Malfoy didn't say anything. He seemed to be thinking, quite deeply apparently.

"What's up?" Ron tried again. He was twisted slightly on his stomach in order to look back at the door, his knees bent and legs splayed weirdly. Lying on his back hurt too much…

Then, Malfoy moved silently forward, apparently having made a decision.

"Er, hello?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Malfoy got onto the bed. Ron panicked, wondering what the hell was going on. He never got a break, did he?

Malfoy reached Ron, hovering over him, and pulled him up backwards so that he was on his knees while his back touched the blonde's chest. Ron could hear his breathing, which was a little too fast for his liking. He knew what that type of breathing usually brought for him, and his eyes widened when he felt Malfoy fumbling on the button of his jeans.

"W-what are you doing?" Ron asked incredulously. He had thought Malfoy was trying to help him. He guessed he should have known better.

"Being un-selfish, for once," Malfoy said into his ear. The button had come undone.

"S-stop!" Ron said, closing his eyes tightly and trying to swat Malfoy's hand away.

But Malfoy shushed him and nibbled at his ear, making Ron shudder. The zipper to his jeans lowered. He felt somewhat betrayed, which was a surprise to him. He knew he should never have trusted Malfoy. Even though he healed Ron after Greyback's assault, he knew the git never did anything for anyone but himself, and Ron had forgotten that…

He supposed he would have to pay the price now for his ignorance.

Ron felt Malfoy's hand push into his jeans and under his boxers, wrapping around his cock. He was limp, but Malfoy breathing into his ear and touching him gave Ron a dangerous sensation below, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to go away. On his knees on the bed, with Malfoy holding Ron against him by the torso, he was too tired to fight back. Plus, he knew it wouldn't bring him any better circumstances anyway, probably just piss him off and make it worse.

Malfoy began to stroke him firmly. Ron's breath hitched as he felt himself harden. God, how embarrassing that the blonde git was able to do this to him…

Malfoy's breath quickened. Ron could only sit there while he was fondled, feeling weird and helpless. Why didn't Malfoy just push him down and get it over with? Why was he taking such care to make sure Ron was hard too? Probably to embarrass him more at having enjoyed it, he thought. He tried to fight the tingling in his dick, too stubborn to let Malfoy embarrass him like this.

But he couldn't help himself. As Malfoy's talented hand played with him, Ron started panting, feeling the pressure that had built for a few weeks now. Not to mention, he had just fought down an erection not long ago. He leaned his head back slightly and moaned, giving up and enjoying the sensation. It had been a while since he had done this himself, after all. That bloody tent was too close quarters for stuff like 'needs' being taken care of.

Ron felt Malfoy's other hand move from his chest up to his mouth, and two fingers prodded at Ron's lips. He lifted his head and opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was doing, but Malfoy stuck the fingers past his open lips. They played along his tongue, and Ron moaned around them as Malfoy gave a particularly hard squeeze to his cock. He thought he heard the blonde's breath falter too, as though he were enjoying it as well. Malfoy's slim fingers, now wet with saliva, exited Ron's mouth again and disappeared behind him.

He wondered briefly where they went, before he felt Malfoy's other hand entering his jeans. This time the back, however.

"Wait – " Ron started, but he finished with a whimper as he felt both digits enter him from behind. He was still a bit sore, healing spells or no.

He wondered what the hell Malfoy was doing that for. Needless to say, it was an even bigger violation of his personal space than grabbing his cock and yanking on it was. But as Malfoy pushed them in and out, he thought he could feel the blonde's hips gently rutting against his jean-clad arse. Ron wondered why he seemed to be turned on by this so much. He could feel Malfoy's breath fast on his neck, and his confusion increased when the other boy started open-mouth kissing the skin there, sucking and licking it like it was his last meal.

"Uhn!" Ron said loudly, feeling the fingers graze something. It caused him to convulse slightly, but it felt…really good.

Ron gasped again as Malfoy's fingers struck that same spot. He began panting hard, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips into Malfoy's hand as he stroked him and kept hitting that spot, sending jolts of pleasure through Ron's body. Ron let his head drop back onto Malfoy's shoulder again, moaning. He felt like he was practically asking for it now. But damn, it felt good to be pleasured like this. For once, someone was thinking of his arousal.

"Oh…" Ron whined, turning his head to the side. He could feel it building up.

Malfoy bit down on his ear again, thrusting his fingers harder against that spot. He stroked Ron faster and harder, Ron still pushing slightly into his hand unintentionally. He clutched at the robes' silky fabric on Malfoy's thigh behind him, trying to ground himself.

"Oh god!" Ron cried breathlessly. He came into Malfoy's hand, who continued to stroke him through his orgasm as Ron panted heavily. He threw his head back while he climaxed, and spots appeared before his vision. His hand clenched harder on Malfoy's leg. When it was over, both boys sat there on their knees, one a bit more shaky than the other.

Malfoy's breath was a bit ragged, Ron could feel it against his neck still. As he leaned back against the blonde, reveling in the aftershock, Malfoy shifted uncomfortably beneath him and he could feel his arousal poking him in the back.

Then, Malfoy kissed him, underneath the single small curl of red hair that formed at the nape of Ron's neck, which puzzled him. It almost felt genuinely like Malfoy was trying to…care for him…in a weird, twisted, Malfoy-ish way, that is.

As his mind wandered lazily, Ron realized that, now that he had come, Malfoy wasn't doing anything more to him. His red eyebrows drew closer together, unseen by the blonde. He could definitely feel a hard-on pressing into his back, so why wasn't Malfoy holding him down and fucking him like he probably did to poor Harry on a regular basis?

Harry. Why was Malfoy here, anyway? Didn't he have his own perfectly fit slave to torture? Did he really need both? Plus, Ron had always thought that Malfoy hated his red hair, freckle-sprinkled cheeks, and his height. He supposed now the blonde was as tall as he was himself, now that he thought about it. He was just used to being taller than Harry and Hermione. But still, why come bother him? Ron mentally snorted as he realized that he hadn't been all that 'bothered', really. Yet.

He felt Malfoy lower him down onto the bed on his stomach again and felt his weight disappear altogether. He was leaving?

"Wait," Ron said, twisting around again. He noticed his trousers were cum-free. Malfoy must have siphoned it off. "What was that for?"

Malfoy seemed to hesitate.

"I don't know," he said with a blank expression. Then he turned and left, sealing the door as he did.

Ron slowly put his head back down on the pillow and wrapped his arms around it. What the hell was going on?

Greyback hadn't been to see him at all for two days. Ron was in a constant state of panic, wondering when he would get back from whatever he was doing. He hoped Malfoy would warn him when he did, like last time (though it had barely been a warning, since Greyback had showed up in the room to torture Ron about five minutes after he had found out he was in the house). Ron hated feeling so helpless and scared, but his sessions with Greyback were brutal. He wondered how many times he would have to endure the beast's assaults before he went mad, was killed, or committed suicide. The madness seemed the closest thing, what with him constantly on edge.

But Harry had come to visit him both days. It seemed that Harry visiting was his sign that Greyback wouldn't be there for the day, which made sense. If Greyback came in and saw them together, he would probably try and take advantage of Harry too, and Ron knew enough about Malfoy now to know he wouldn't want anybody dealing with Greyback attacking them. He was unable to stop him from attacking Ron, it seemed, but he could prevent him getting at Harry since he was technically 'his' prisoner now.

And Ron felt oddly happy about that. He knew he hated being Greyback's plaything, but he wouldn't wish it on anybody else, especially his best friend. In a weird way, he was glad it was him and not Harry. Plus, Malfoy seemed to take very good care of Harry, because Ron never saw any bruises anywhere, except for maybe a few hickeys on his neck. He knew because he had checked to make sure, peaking at Harry every time his shirt rode up or when he unbuttoned his collar when the room got stuffy. It was a lot better treatment than Ron had received, that was for sure.

Apparently, Greyback still had an influence on Ron however, even when he wasn't there. His rumbling stomach had started to bother him after a while, and he had wondered where that bloody house-elf was that Malfoy had promised. It was only when Harry had come in to sleep with him in the room for the first night (courtesy of Malfoy's good graces) and snuck him some food that he was informed of Greyback's new sick game.

"He said not to give you anything," Harry had said apologetically, handing Ron some grapes, bread, and an apple. Ron loved apples.

"Wha'?" Ron said through his bread.

"Apparently Greyback ordered them not to feed you. According to Draco, anyway."

Ron looked up, sickened at how he could still be tortured even when the beast wasn't here. Then he latched onto the last part of Harry's statement.

"Draco?"

"I mean, Malfoy," Harry said, picking at his fingernails.

Then, there had been no sign of the werewolf, apart from his food ban for Ron. So he had enjoyed the company of his best friend during the nights, who always snuck him something to eat. It seemed almost like they were back at Hogwarts, laughing and joking together in the dorms. But whenever Ron woke up in the mornings, Harry was always gone. He didn't need to guess where he went, or why.

It was halfway through the day, Ron guessed by the window, and he was lying on the bed, throwing a rubber ball Malfoy had given him as a form of entertainment. He also had a book that he had found under the bed, but it didn't give him much comfort, since it was filled with dark spells and their gruesome side-effects. Plus, he didn't have a wand, so he couldn't even fantasize about using them on Greyback the next that lunatic tried to touch him.

Calunk. Calunk. Calunk.

The ball bounced on the ceiling, then flew at an angle to the wall, and back to Ron each time he threw it. Being Gryffindor keeper, one had to have good aim when throwing the Quaffle back to your own teammates after a save. Harry's relentless drills made him good with that. It seemed as though they would spend hours, Harry zooming around the pitch at top-speed, and Ron would have to try and pass to him from his position at the goal posts while Harry flew in erratic patterns to try and throw him off. They had done this for weeks until Ron could hit him dead on from clear across the pitch. Harry had been so proud. Ron had more liked the results it gave to his own arm and shoulder muscles, personally.

Although Fred and George had teased him mercilessly the next time he saw them, calling him 'ripped', he was able to beat both of them in an arm wrestle. At the same time.

Ron supposed it was that vanity that got him in this horrible situation. That, or his 'pretty arse'.

"God, I need to stop thinking about…anything," he muttered to himself, throwing the ball rather violently this time.

He wondered where Harry was. Usually he was here to sneak him some form of fruit for lunch, but the doorway had remained sealed and empty. That is, until a sucking noise signaled the reversal of the sealing spell, and it swung open.

Ron grunted as his violently thrown ball bounced back and hit him in the stomach when he looked over.

"I was wondering where – oh," Ron said, realizing who it was. He was unsure how to act in Malfoy's presence now, ever since his…last encounter. He watched as the pure-blonde head preceded a body, which walked in and stood at the foot of Ron's bed.

"Hello Weasley," he smirked. Ron knew from this immediately that something bad was going to happen. He looked too menacing for another friendly hand-job.

"What do you want to do to me now?" Ron asked nervously.

"Oh, I won't be doing anything," Malfoy said. He had a tone.

"Is he back?" Ron asked quickly. He sat bolt upright and clutched the ball in his hand almost painfully tight. He had been having such a nice break from Greyback.

"No…"

Ron let his shoulders drop again and un-clenched his hand. But then he realized that Malfoy was still up to something, and since Greyback wasn't here, it could only involve him doing probably more unwanted sexual favors, just for the blonde git instead.

"What." Ron said exasperatedly. It was more of a statement than a question. "Just say it."

"I've been getting a bit bored, and I figured, why not add a little variety," Malfoy said through a sneer.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean," Malfoy said, treacherously slow, "Potter's been getting the same treatment for a few days now. While I'm sure he's not bored with me, I'm a bit bored, so I'd like a bit of a show."

"What…what are you saying?" Ron narrowed his eyes. A horrible conclusion was forming in his own mind already…

"I think you know, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "I want you to show Potter a good time."

His narrowed eyes flew open.

"W-what?" Ron shouted, panic laced through his voice. Malfoy just smirked harder.

"You. Potter. My bed."

"You're sick," Ron said incredulously, scooting backward on the bed away from the fair-haired demon. He couldn't do that to Harry, he just…couldn't. Harry was his best friend. Sure, they had been through a lot together, and Ron was secure enough in his manhood to admit that Harry was a good-looking bloke. He wasn't stupid. Ron knew it was more than the fame status and scar that brought the girls running in mobs for his best friend (his sister apparently one of them). But he couldn't make Harry do something like that just so this insane psycho, who Ron was beginning to see as just such, could watch. Harry had already been through enough shit to last several people a lifetime. 'Rape from your best friend' didn't need to be added to the list.

"Like hell I will you lunatic!" Ron yelled. He chucked the ball as hard as he could at Malfoy, which hit him square in the chest. The blonde winced, but otherwise had no reaction.

"Oh, I think you will, Weasley," Malfoy said lowly. "Otherwise, I may have to report that my prisoner's concealment charms just wore off, and everyone would be very surprised at whose appearance they'd been hiding…"

Ron looked on in horror.

"I – you – why do you even want – ?" Ron couldn't find the words, but Malfoy got the message.

"Because, I thought it would be hot," he said, shrugging.

Ron couldn't stop himself from gaping at him. Who was this person in front of him?

"You thought watching me and Harry go at it would be hot?" Ron said. It sounded even less believable when he said it. The boy who had always taunted them, hexed them at any chance, and hated them both equally for years, now thought that watching his two worst school enemies shag would be hot.

"Yeah."

Ron sat there stunned on the bed, not knowing what to do. If he refused, Malfoy would tell the Death Eaters about Harry. If he did it, Harry would be emotionally scarred for life, and (if they ever got out of here) neither of them would be able to look at each other the same again. He dropped his head to his hands and kneaded at his forehead. The obvious choice would be the one that kept the savior of the Wizarding World alive the longest. He just didn't know how alive Harry would feel after it.

"Why are you doing this?" Ron asked in a defeated voice.

"I told you, because I was bored," Malfoy said, shrugging again.

"What – what do I have to do to him?" He couldn't believe he was asking this.

"You know what," Malfoy said exasperatedly. "Entertain him sexually. There, spelled out enough for you?"

"No, I mean," Ron swallowed, blushing now, "I…I don't know how…to…"

"Oh."

Ron walked down the hall, blushing profusely. He had just engaged in the most awkward conversation in his entire life, with his enemy nonetheless. It was worse than the one he had had with his own mother years ago, about 'regular' sex. At least in that one he had been a willing participant in the activities described, and had had a theoretical equally willing partner as well. But no. Malfoy had just informed him on the most expert techniques he would need to use in order to rape yet sexually pleasure his male best friend of seven years. Something called a prostate was involved, and Ron just realized, as he walked in the gloomy hallway to his mental undoing, that Malfoy must have been utilizing that particular body part while he had been pleasuring him not days ago. Good. Lord.

"I can't do this," Ron said, turning back to face Malfoy. He stopped their movement and threw his back against the wall, covering his face with his hand in shame at what he was about to do.

"Oh, come on Weasley," Malfoy said, exasperated. "It's not as though he won't like it."

"How do you fucking know?" Ron spat, tearing his hand away to glare at the blonde devil incarnate. "He's gonna hate me for the rest of his life. I'm supposed to be his best friend. He'll never be able to shag again," Ron added in horror. He was ruining his friend's sex life forever.

"Shut. Up." Malfoy said firmly. "He'll be bloody fine. He was fine when I did it," he added smugly.

"Which is a miracle," Ron said with venom in every word.

"Shut up," Malfoy said again furiously. "Do it."

He prodded at Ron with his wand as a warning. Ron had no choice.

Reluctantly, he continued down the hallway at wand-point, wishing he was anywhere else right now. He would take another round with Greyback rather than ruin Harry's life further. Harry was running out of people to trust, and his best friend doing this only took another person off the severely short list.

Malfoy unsealed the door to Harry's prison. Or Malfoy's bedroom, whichever way one looked at it.

Ron couldn't help but notice, though bitterly, that the room was really well decorated. It had green everything (Of course, Ron thought), and several rich-person things that Ron supposed were very important if you had Galleons pouring out your arse every time you sneezed. It also contained an innocent looking Harry Potter, who was lying on his back with his arms tucked comfortably behind his head. Ron saw that Malfoy had only been half-kidding about the concealment charms having worn off. Harry was back to looking like his old self, black hair and green eyes, though minus the glasses still. It only made his eyes stand out more, wide and innocent as they were.

"Oh, finally you git," Harry said, obviously hearing the door open. "I've been waiting for hours. I need to go see Ron, because he's probably starving – oh, hi," Harry added sheepishly when he saw that they were both in the room. He smiled at Ron in an embarrassed way.

Ron felt numb. Harry had been waiting, doing nothing to pass the time, worrying about him and his stupid stomach. He seriously felt like he was going to cry, because of his stupid, naïve best friend, who was too nice and innocent for his own damn good.

Malfoy smirked, looking evilly down at the poor, unsuspecting victim.

"Oh, I think he'll have enough to eat. Please Weasley, help yourself to what looks good," Malfoy said nonchalantly. He gestured vaguely in Harry's direction, which the raven-haired boy missed.

Ron glared, hating every bloody cell in that git's body.

"So, what, is Ron staying in here tonight or something?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows slightly.

Ron fidgeted.

Malfoy smirked.

Harry looked between the two, clearly puzzled.

"Weasley will be spending a short time with us today," Malfoy said in his aristocratic voice. Then he snickered slightly. "Or perhaps a long time, it depends. I thought you may enjoy his…company for the evening."

Ron closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand again. Oh, the shame…

"What?" Harry said, still looking confused.

"Weasley, upon my request, will be substituting for me today. Just to…shake things up a bit, I suppose," Malfoy laughed lightly.

Harry's green eyes widened slightly. He stared at Malfoy incredulously for a moment, then looked away quickly, staring at the floor. Ron thought he could see a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Well Weasley, go on. He doesn't bite," Malfoy said, smirking. "That's usually me."

"Shut up!" Ron spat at the blonde. He didn't need to hear it, and he knew it was only embarrassing Harry more since his blush seemed to be increasing in intensity.

Sighing, hating himself, and wishing that whatever entity that was watching over him would just take mercy and smite him now, Ron moved over to the side of the bed that Harry was laying on. He stood there awkwardly, looking down at his best friend, still raised on his elbows.

"Do you…do you know what's going on?" Ron asked Harry quietly, hoping the blonde couldn't hear him.

"Yeah," Harry said, now looking at the wall opposite him, cheeks still tinged pink.

"Is it okay?" Ron muttered. Not that he had a choice, for he would hold him down through the whole thing if he had to rather than let Harry die, but he thought asking permission would be…polite, he guessed. Better than just going at it. "I'll be…you know…" Ron sighed and covered his eyes with a hand yet again. He couldn't say it.

"Yeah," Harry said again. He looked up, big emerald eyes looking up into ice-blue ones. "It's okay."

He was taking this surprisingly well.

Ron nodded. He couldn't find any other way to stall.

He was sure of one thing at least that Malfoy had no control over. He would make sure that Harry was completely taken care of, and not hurt at all. He didn't want to become the monster Greyback did, using his body as a weapon. Ron silently vowed to make Harry feel as good as possible, despite how much he may hate himself for doing this. He knew this one thing: Harry would be put before himself.

So Ron got onto the bed. He could see Malfoy sit in one of the lounge chairs (seriously, who has fucking lounge chairs in their bedroom? Ron thought briefly) that occupied the area across the room.

Not really knowing how to start, Ron put one leg over Harry so that he was sitting on top of his thighs, straddling him. He reached for the button on Harry's trousers.

"Uh-uh Weasley," Ron heard the infuriating voice of Malfoy across the room. The blonde shook his finger. "The whole kit."

Ron gritted his teeth. He reached around Harry's torso, pulling him up slightly, and pulled the shirt up over his head a little more violently than he meant to. Then he turned and hurled the shirt across the room at Malfoy as hard as he could.

It landed in Malfoy's lap, who smirked. But it was Harry laying beneath Ron who started laughing. Ron looked down, a smirk of his own playing at his lips, as he made eye contact with Harry again.

"Yours too, Weasl – " but Malfoy was cut off as another balled-up shirt hit him square in the chest, this one blue with a tiny gold embroidered 'R' on the shoulder.

Harry was laughing harder now, and he lay his head back as he chuckled appreciatively. Ron looked back at him again, glad that they were able to be themselves, even in a situation like this. He never realized how much he liked to hear that laugh. It seemed he was one of the few people who could bring it out of its hiding place.

So here he sat, staring at his friend, both of them shirtless. He shifted slightly forward, up Harry's thighs, when he felt it. And by the way Harry looked up at him this time, with something close to fear, he must have known he had felt it. Harry was hard.

Ron looked down at him, puzzled. Harry hadn't been when they had entered the room only moments ago, which meant that this was no random bout of randiness that had been brought on from sitting alone with nothing to do. There hadn't been the obvious bulge in his jeans that Ron saw now, anyway. Ron hadn't even really been near Harry's crotch at all while he had been moving around, throwing shirts, so it wasn't due to friction. He had just been sitting in Harry's line of vision, shirtless, looking pissed at Malfoy. This only meant one thing.

Harry was…into this.

Ron looked down, wondering what he had done that had been at all sexy. He didn't really see himself as a 'sexy' person in general, so he felt even more confused at Harry's arousal. Harry's blush seemed to deepen as Ron pondered this, so he did the only thing he could think to do to ease the tension.

He leaned down and touched his lips to Harry's. Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat, and Ron hoped that this was okay. He pulled back slightly, a small smack sounding as their lips parted again. Ron dropped his head and felt a blush of his own mar his freckled cheeks.

"Just…just tell me to stop if you want me to stop, okay?" Ron said, looking up into those bright green eyes. He wanted Harry to know that he had as much control in this as Ron did.

Harry didn't answer, still blushing and looking so damn innocent. Ron felt a bit panicky, wondering if kissing him was too personal or something. But when he felt a hand thread through his hair at the back of his head and push him closer to Harry again, he guessed it wasn't.

Harry wanted to kiss him, apparently. Ron felt a tongue this time push into his mouth, which surprised him, but he soon regained control of his mind and moved his own against it. He felt the kiss intensify as Harry got excited, and he tried to respond with equal vigor. Soon, they were tonguing each other's mouths viciously and Ron had grabbed at Harry's midnight locks as well. He felt his own hardness now, and it was almost as surprising as feeling Harry's. But he supposed if the kiss had anything to show about himself, it was that he was enjoying this as well.

Ron moved his hips so that they connected with Harry's, who gasped lightly around Ron's tongue. Ron couldn't help it as he slightly pushed against Harry's jean-clad erection repeatedly, still entwined at the mouth. He could hear and feel Harry moaning into his mouth as he was further aroused. Ron supposed he should have been embarrassed, humping the person beneath him like some horny teenager. But he was a teenager, and he was now horny. So was the boy beneath him, who had long since given his permission by spreading his legs and tucking them at Ron's sides to allow him access.

Ron reached down to the buttons on Harry's jeans, knowing that they both wanted more than what had already transpired. But he stopped when he felt the three buttons in succession, and pulled his mouth away from Harry's briefly, realizing something. Both boys were breathing heavily now and flushed, but Ron grinned slightly.

"Are these mine?" Ron said, tugging at the waist of the jeans. Harry looked surprised for a moment before he smiled sheepishly.

"Er, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head.

Ron laughed before kissing Harry again. Sometimes in the wilderness he and Harry would share clothes, both being equally unorganized and leaving them strewn about. They were roughly the same size, except for Harry being shorter than he was. But now that he thought about it, Harry seemed to wear his clothes a lot more than he wore Harry's, even if they were too long in the legs sometimes. Recalling this, he couldn't help feeling that the awkwardness about this situation had lessened considerably. He had almost forgotten Draco was watching.

Harry continued to battle with Ron's tongue while Ron reached for his jeans again. He undid the three buttons quickly, having worn the trousers several times himself, and began to slide them and those boxer-thingies down Harry's hips. Harry was doing wonderful things to his tongue, which made him wiggle the jeans off in a cramped space, for he didn't want to break the kiss again. Harry was now completely naked, and Ron reached for the clasp of his own jeans as he felt Harry's other hand rest on the back of his neck, tugging slightly at the single red curl there. Harry nipped at Ron's bottom lip and sucked it, making Ron groan in anticipation as he removed his own trousers. Two years on a broomstick had given him the ability to be graceful in more actions than he had realized he would need, one of which included taking off your own jeans while snogging on a bed without even breaking contact.

He then kissed along Harry's jaw line, nipping at it in a few places. He moved down to Harry's neck and sucked beneath his ear, listening to the panting teen below him. Ron smiled slightly against the skin as he moved down still, over to one of the small pink nipples that sat on the left side of the finely-toned youth's chest. He put his mouth to it and sucked on it lightly, liking how Harry tightened his grip on his hair and whimpered. As he circled his tongue around the hardening bud, Ron reached down between them and grabbed Harry, who whimpered again and stiffened his back. He slowly stroked Harry up and down, and moved his other hand down to his hip for something to grab onto. It wasn't really as though Harry needed stroking, for he was obviously hard now, but Malfoy had said to do it first, so he did. Ron then maneuvered his body downward, bringing his head down to Harry's penis, and replacing his hand with his mouth.

Harry gave a breathy sigh as Ron moved his tongue along the underside of his cock. Ron brought up one hand above him to rest on Harry's lower stomach, which Ron couldn't help notice held the happiest fucking happy trail he had ever seen. His fingers played slightly with the line of soft dark hairs there as his tongue played along Harry's dick. The noises Harry made were so erotic that Ron was having trouble keeping focused. He could vaguely remember Malfoy's description on how to prepare Harry so that he wouldn't get hurt like Ron always was when Greyback did things to him. Ron would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. This was his first willing sexual encounter, and he didn't want to cause Harry any pain or anything.

He felt a light thump next to him on the bed and saw a small vial of something. He reached for it and realized it must be the oil Malfoy was talking about, which he used on Harry as lubricant. Ron had been less than thrilled to picture the things Malfoy did to his poor best friend, much less to know what type of lube they used. Still, it was better than what he got from Greyback, which was nothing.

While still distracting Harry with his mouth and hearing the panting and whining continue above, Ron tipped the phial over his hand and coated his own erection with the substance. He had to force himself to stop stroking his own arousal with the lubricant however, which was very, very difficult as he was very, very hard by now. But he didn't want to come before he had even entered Harry yet.

That thought was a lot less scary than it would have been a few minutes ago, Ron thought.

Slowly, and looking up to make sure the dark-haired boy was alright with this, Ron moved his slicked fingers to Harry's arse. He continued to suck around Harry's erection, but when he pushed his two fingers in, Harry definitely noticed. A whine that was more discomfort than pleasure escaped the boy above him, and Ron quickly took him deeper into his mouth to help him forget. Harry sighed with pleasure and Ron felt a hand thread through his red hair again. He could tell that Harry was trying hard to refrain from pushing his head down onto his cock, but his whimpers said he wanted more, desperately. Ron slowly moved his fingers in and out of Harry, and with his other hand, grasped Harry's hip and urged it up. Harry must have taken the hint, for he began to thrust into Ron's mouth lightly, moaning and still holding the back of his head with one hand. He seemed to be trying not to choke him, however, and it was a nice change from Greyback's usual approach, which was to deny Ron oxygen until it was absolutely necessary.

Ron looked up again to see a flushed and panting Harry, who had a slight sheen of sweat forming on his body now as he continued to fuck Ron's mouth. Ron pushed his fingers in deeper, searching for that thing –

"Ohhh," Harry whined, turning his head to the side and giving a particularly hard thrust. Ron almost gagged, but managed to control himself. Well, that must have been it.

He touched that spot again and received a small "ah!" this time.

Hoping to distract him with that, Ron touched the spot a third time and snuck in a third slick finger, trying to stretch Harry as much as he could to prepare him for what was to come. Harry didn't seem to mind it that much, however, as his light thrusting continued without falter. After a while, Ron removed his mouth and fingers gently and wandered back up Harry's body. He looked down at him, taking in the sight.

Harry was sweaty, panting, and clinging to Ron's own body, looking as though he didn't know what to do with himself. The scene of a very aroused Harry made Ron's cock almost twitch with eagerness, and it made it that much harder to go slow when Harry began sucking and nipping desperately at his neck.

"Come on," Harry whispered against his skin, almost in a way that foretold death if he didn't enter him soon.

"Are you," Ron said in a strangled voice, trying to hold onto his sanity as Harry continued with the neck stuff. "Are you alright? Not hurt or anything?"

"No," Harry breathed, starting to push his hips up so that his cock met with Ron's slickened one. "Please," he nipped Ron's neck rather forcefully.

Ron positioned himself between Harry's legs and at his entrance, wondering how on earth his cock was supposed to fit in there. It was surely too tight. Reluctantly, he pushed slowly into Harry. He almost came right there at the feeling of how tight Harry was around him as he entered, but he grit his teeth and held it back, determined to make him come first. He wanted to make sure he wasn't too tired to carry it all the way out for Harry, and he wanted the dark-haired boy to enjoy this as much as he could. Harry grunted slightly and turned his head, looking somewhat uncomfortable at the intrusion. Ron leaned down and kissed him, shoving his tongue into the other boy's mouth in order to distract him. Harry responded eagerly.

When he was all the way in, Ron ran his hand through the wild black hair on top of Harry's head and continued to simply snog with him for a moment, waiting for him to adjust to the size. It was when Harry's nips at his skin became more than eager and he felt the boy beneath him wrap his legs around Ron's waist that he pulled out again about halfway and pushed back in. Harry whimpered slightly into Ron's mouth and Ron moaned as he felt the tightness enclose his erection fully again. Okay, now he could see why people did this all the time…

Ron began to pick up his pace a little, and he moved one hand to the back of Harry's head, clutching black locks that went every which-way. His other hand was grabbing Harry's hip and pulling it toward him in time with his thrusts, in order for him to go as deeply inside Harry as possible.

It wasn't long before Ron found that prostate thing again, of which he had tried to memorize the whereabouts, and soon had Harry moaning along with each thrust.

"Oh!" Harry said again, writhing beneath him and throwing his head back.

The sight of it made Ron speed up. He was so turned-on, he didn't think he could stop even if he wanted to.

"Harry," Ron breathed against his ear. It was the only coherent thing he could manage. Ron reached between them and stroked Harry's cock again in time with his bucking.

"Yes, Ron," Harry moaned breathlessly, urging him on as he struck his prostate again and again. His legs tightened around Ron's waist and he slammed down against each thrust Ron gave. "Oh god yes!"

His brain took on a slightly animalistic trait at this, at the tone of Harry's voice. Ron's breath came out hard and fast as he pounded into Harry's arse. The raven-haired boy's panting was equally as ragged, and Ron could feel blunt fingernails digging into the skin on his back (Harry had a well-earned nail biting habit). He grabbed Harry's arse in order to thrust more forcefully into him, being sure to hit where that spot was inside him that made him make the sexiest sounds, which in turn drove Ron wild. He liked how Harry seemed to give him everything, the sound of him as he completely lost control, moaning loudly. The flushed, desperate look he had, as if he almost couldn't take the pleasure he was in…

"Ah!" Harry said, arching his back. His body tensed and his nails dug deeper into Ron's skin. Ron could feel Harry come into his hand, the warm essence flowing over his fingers as he stroked and rode him through his orgasm. As Harry's body convulsed, Ron felt his arse tighten around his cock. That, coupled with Harry's crying out, was too much for him. He moaned into the crook of Harry's neck as he too came. He felt as though he went blind, for he couldn't really see as he pounded through his own climax, listening to Harry's delicious sounds and losing himself in the ecstasy of the moment.

When he could see again, he slowed and finally stopped, breathing into Harry's neck still. He slowly leaned up, taking his hands from Harry's hips and placing them on either side of his shoulders to use the bed for leverage. He hovered above Harry, his red hair hanging slightly in his eyes. His cock was still inside him as well.

Harry's emerald eyes looked back at him, half-lidded, but otherwise happy and trauma-free. Ron smiled slightly and looked down, still panting a little.

"Alright, mate?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yeah," Harry said, a laugh making its way into the word.

Ron pulled out slowly, wincing apologetically as Harry winced for a different reason. He sat up, crossing his legs and brushing his slightly sweaty red hair back from his face. Harry continued to lay there, lazily looking up at him, arms splayed out at his sides on the bed. Ron couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Ron was really tired, but felt tired in a good way this time. His other sexual encounters had left him bloody and bruised along with the fatigue, but this time Ron's neck didn't hurt, and neither did his arse. Plus, he wasn't hoarse from screaming, which was a plus. He was vaguely aware of the result of Harry's orgasm on his stomach, however, which was sticky.

He felt something on his hip and looked down. It was Harry's hand lightly grazing his fingers along the bruises there. He had probably never seen them before, since they had always been covered by his clothes.

"Greyback?" Harry said, looking up at him. His expression showed concern now, instead of the lazy contentment it had held just a second ago.

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, looking away.

Harry sighed, looking sad. He placed his hand over the bruise, mimicking the perfect handprint it made. Ron thought he heard him mutter something that sounded like 'pelt over my fireplace', which made Ron snort appreciatively. They gave each other a knowing look, both mirroring an almost-grin.

"Well Weasley, that was quite a show."

Both boys jumped, looking over at the chair that held a sprawled out Draco Malfoy, who was smirking. As usual.

"Blimey, forgot arse-face was here," Ron said, looking down at Harry in surprise.

Harry snorted this time. "Me too," he added, grinning up at him.

"Ha ha," Malfoy said in an un-amused tone, getting up from his place in the black lounge chair. He shook his finger at them in a mock-parenting style. "Well, it's time for you two kidlets to get to your room. I promised Harry you could both sleep together. You can also bunk together in the same room tonight as well," Malfoy said, grinning evilly. He laughed as Harry blushed and Ron looked up at Malfoy, scowling.

"C'mon Harry," Ron said, standing up to go find his clothes. He didn't really feel awkward looking at Harry's naked body, considering what he had just done to it.

Harry made a whining noise and flopped around on the bed half-heartedly. Ron chuckled. He looked like a little kid, and this was pretty much a replay for when Harry woke up every morning in the dorms for the six years they went to Hogwarts. It seemed to have gotten more childish the older Harry got, ironically. Ron wasn't particularly a morning person, but Harry's fake tantrums at having to wake up always started the day off with a laugh.

"I'm tired," Harry said, turning his head away from everyone. He seemed not to care that he was completely bare of all clothing. "I never get a break after I've been taken advantage of, do I?"

"Oi, didn't look like you were particularly hating it," Ron argued.

Harry laughed, smiling sheepishly.

Ron threw his shirt at him, which had been on the floor along with his own shirt next to the chair Malfoy had been sitting in. It landed gently on top of Harry's head. He made no move to put it on, or even remove it from covering his face. Ron had just pulled up his jeans and boxers and fastened the button when Harry sat up, the shirt falling off and into his bare lap. He reluctantly started pulling it over his head.

As Harry sluggishly got ready to move rooms, Ron muttered under his breath to Malfoy.

"Don't think I'm not pissed with you," Ron said lowly, glaring up at the thin pale face smirking back at him. "Just because this…whatever it is, happened, doesn't mean it was right. Plus, you're still a perv for watching."

"Whatever," Malfoy answered simply.

"Okay, 'm ready," Harry said groggily from behind them.

"Oh, wait Potter," Malfoy said. He pushed Harry back onto the bed and straddled him. Then he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's face.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Ron said quickly, moving over to them.

"Down Weasley," Malfoy said condescendingly. "I'm just doing the concealment charms again. Apparently they wear off after a while."

"Yeah, that's why Hermione never bothered with them," Ron said, seeing Harry's eyes turn to dark brown. "She didn't want to have to re-do them every few days since we were out in the forest all the-"

Harry cleared his throat loudly. Ron stopped talking, realizing he probably shouldn't reveal everything they had been doing to a Death Eater's son like an idiot. Malfoy simply drew his eyebrows together at this, and then got up off of Harry.

Harry sat up, sporting a blonde head of hair similar to Malfoy's own. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You just had to, didn't you?" Ron said, smirking.

"No you idiot," Malfoy retorted. "I can't seem to control the color. Maybe I'm not doing it right, I only learned it a couple weeks ago…"

"And you've been doing it near my face?" Harry said incredulously from the bed. "What if you set me on fire or something you bloody moron?"

"I've got it," Malfoy said, waving a hand to shut Harry up. Ron wished he could talk back to Greyback like that and get away with it. He would probably just die instead of getting a hand-wave. Ron was getting more and more jealous of Harry's living arrangements by the second. Even if it was with Malfoy…

Harry got up and stalked past Malfoy. As he passed, Ron thought he heard Harry mutter something about 'skin over my fireplace too', which made him snort again, unable to contain it.