And, as promised, here's part two! Hope you like it :)

When I wake, our bedroom is flooded with soft, early morning light. I lay still for a while, getting my barings, reminding myself that I'm no longer out on mission, just enjoying being warm and comfortable. But then cool fingers press against my hip, and I understand what's woken me. Draco has rolled over in my arms, his face nuzzling against my neck, and his hands are roaming.

'Dray,' I rasp, my voice still thick with sleep. 'Go back to sleep, Love. You need to rest and - '

'Weasley.' I look down at the surprising clarity in his voice, and find steely silver eyes staring up at me. His face is set, determined, and I swallow involuntarily. 'You've been gone for three weeks. Three fucking weeks. And I spent two of those weeks wondering if I would ever actually see you again.' His voice cracks a little, but before I can say anything he's talking over me. 'Even now, I'm not entirely sure whether you're actually here, or if I've finally completely lost my mind. So do me a favour. Indulge me?'

'How can I argue with that?' I ask him, and the corner of his mouth twitches as he holds back a smile. The smile never gets the chance to spread, because suddenly he surges up, pushing me onto my back and straddling my hips, effectively pinning me to the mattress. I could easily flip us back over, but right now I don't want to. He needs this, needs to do this to show himself that this is real, and I know that I need to let him do that in whatever way he must. So I slip my hands under my head and wiggle my eyebrows. 'Do your worst, Malfoy.'

'Smug prat,' he snorts, then leans in to kiss me. I groan when the contact sends electric charges running through my body, but he's gone again before I can reach up to grab him. He's panting slightly, and his eyes flash as he tells me, 'No touching.'

'Seriously?' I gape up at him. 'Three weeks without you, and now I can't touch you?'

'No, you can't,' Draco says, his eyes raking over my face as he drinks in my incredulous expression. He slides his hands down my chest, my torso, and under my shirt, pushing it up to expose my toned stomach. 'You're to stay as still as you can and let me enjoy you.'

'Doesn't seem entirely fair,' I grumble, a little distracted by the patterns his fingertips have started tracing on my abdomen. 'Seems like you're - ah - like you're going to be having all the fun.'

'Haven't you realised by now, darling husband?' He leans forward again, this time to purr in my ear, 'I can be incredibly self-serving.'

My impulse is to fight him on this, to tell him how truly selfless he is, but then he pulls away from my ear to graze his lips against my jaw, and I instantly forget what I had been about to say. I fight to keep my hands where they are as he attacks my throat with tongue and lips and teeth, letting out small sounds of satisfaction whenever he rocks his hips against mine. We're both still in those flannel pants, and I want nothing more than to vanish them, or tear his off and and take him, but I'm trying very hard to be good, so I don't move.

This is made much harder when Draco's mouth starts migrating south. His hands continue to skate over my torso, like he's mapping me, and his lithe body hovers over mine as he retreats down the bed, his mouth leaving behind a searing trail as he goes. He leaves my t-shirt on, but when he reaches my waist, he nips at my hip bone before looking up. My breathing hitches at the look in his molten eyes.

'Lift you hips,' he instructs, and I obey, fighting myself to keep my hands under my head, itching to help him, to touch him. Draco makes short work of stripping my pants from me, and my hard cock springs up the second it's freed. He pauses to gaze at it, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Then he's leaning down with that same tongue poking out of his mouth. I realise I've been holding my breath when it comes whooshing out of me as he laps at my tip.

'Gods, Draco,' I grit out, my jaw clenched so hard I can feel the muscles in my face twitching. 'Are you convinced yet, Love? I'm real, I'm really here with you. Now please, please can I touch you?'

'Not yet,' he murmurs, tracing his lips up my shaft slowly. I grasp the pillow under my head, holding it tight, needing to touch something before I fully lose it. His mouth vibrates against me as he says, 'Not yet, Ron. Just a little longer.'

'Fuck,' I moan, my eyes rolling in my head as he finally sucks my tip into his hot, wet mouth. He bobs his head slowly, and I'm sure I hear something under my head tear as I grip the pillow harder. I continue to curse softly as he licks and sucks and pulls and twists, and I'm so very close when he suddenly completely releases me. I bark out in frustration, and look down to see what's happened.

He's sitting by my feet, just looking at me. His gaze roaves over my body, taking in the flush in my cheeks, the tensed muscles in my torso and legs, the stiffness of my erection. He's removed his own pajamas, and although I can see his ribs a little too clearly at the moment, he's still completely breathtaking. His pale, flawless skin looks so soft, his cheeks and chest a delicate pink, his white-blonde hair falling gently around his shoulders, and between his thighs, his length stands full and proud and ready.

'You're fucking intoxicating,' I breathe, and his throat bobs as he swallows audibly.

'Touch me.' The words are so quiet that I almost miss them, but as soon as they register in my mind, I'm sitting up, reaching forwards to grab him and pull him towards me. In one smooth movement I roll him under me, settling between his thighs as I kiss him, my tongue seeking entrance and sweeping against his. He whimpers into my mouth as I allow my weight to press him into the mattress, and I pull back to grin down at him.

'Real enough for you?' I rumble, dipping my head to nip at his pale throat.

'Gods, yes.' His hands trail up my back, his nails scratching lightly over my scarred, freckled skin. He arches up into me when I run my tongue over his collarbone. 'Please, Ron, I need you.'

'I know, Love,' I sigh against his chest. 'I need you, too. I've missed you, so much. Tell me how you want it.'

'Just take me,' he groans, his hands winding into my hair and gripping tight. His words and actions are clear enough - he wants as much as I can give him, wants me to use him, wants to be used. I'm a little glad of it, as I'm finding it hard to hold myself back right now.

'Anything you want,' I tell him, then reach down and press my fingers to his entrance. I murmur a couple of spells that we've been using over the years together, spells to prepare and to lubricate. The spells have a nice side effect of warming where they touch, and Draco gasps and shivers under me as heat floods through him. I watch his pupils grow wider as he stares up at me, a familiar tangle of love and lust in his expression.

'Weasley,' he whines, desperation in his tone as he wriggles his hips, seeking friction. 'Please - '

'I've got you, Love.' I remove my fingers to line myself up with his entrance and ease forward, watching his eyes roll into his head as I fill him and fill him until I'm fully seated inside his tight hole. We both breathe slowly, adjusting to being connected in this way again after so long apart, but I suck in a breath when tears well in his eyes. 'Did I hurt you?'

'No, not at all,' he replies immediately, his voice a little wobbly. He blinks, and the tears roll down his cheeks as he tries to smile at me. 'It just feels so good. You feel so good. And I knew that I missed you, but I don't think I really understood that part of me was also missing until just now.'

'Dray,' I breathe, lowering myself to my forearms to press kisses across his cheekbone. He winds his arms around my shoulders and holds me tight to him, nuzzling his nose into my shoulder as he breathes me in. I start to rock my hips gently, moving slowly, enjoying every second of our connection.

'More,' he gasps, and I move with more force but maintain my languid pace. I balance myself on my elbows so that I can hover of him, watching his face as I hit that perfect spot inside him, again and again. His jaw is slack now, his eyes glazed and unfocused, and I can feel his hard shaft bumping against my stomach with each thrust. Seemingly subconsciously, his hand begins to creep between us, but I swiftly capture both of his wrists and pin them by his head. He whines and writhes in frustration, but I don't give in.

'I know you can finish without that, Love,' I growl, and his eyes immediately flick up to stare into mine. He catches his lower lip between his teeth as I increase my pace, and the sight makes me give out a little groan. 'You're so beautiful.'

'Ron,' he chokes, and I know from the tension in his voice and the way he's rolling his own hips against me that he's close.

'Hold on for me, Pet,' I murmur, and his eyes spark with internal flames at the use of the nickname. 'I'm almost there.'

'Please,' he whispers. 'I can't - '

'Yes, you can,' I pant, moving much faster now, pulling in and out of him repeatedly as the band of my release tightens behind my navel. 'You can, and you will, because you're a good boy. Such a good boy for me.'

'Yes,' he gasps. 'All for you, Ron.'

'Gods, you feel so fucking good. Oh fuck, I'm gonna - Cum for me, Draco, cum now love.'

He does, his back arching off the bed as he cums untouched, and the feel of him tightening around my length and his hot fluids spurting over us both triggers my own release. I slam into him for as long as I can , until my arms start to shake and my vision clouds and I need to breathe. Only then do I stop, and release his wrists so that he can wind his arms around me. He pulls me down onto him, even though we're both sweaty and sticky, but I go willingly, covering his torso with mine. He's told me countless times over the years that he finds comfort in my weight being pressed against him in these moments, and I don't hold myself back anymore.

'Merlin, I needed that,' I sigh against his collarbone, and he chuckles softly and winds his fingers into my hair, tugging and playing with it. It's very soothing, and I can feel my eyeslids drooping as it lulls me, but I don't want to fall asleep yet. So I tried to pull away, but his arms and legs suddenly cling tighter to me.

'Not yet,' he begs. 'Please, Love, not yet.'

'Alright,' I murmur, sinking back down into him. 'Alright, I'm here. But you'll have to stop playing with my hair if you want me to stay awake.'

He hums, then falls silent, but he keeps twisting my red locks through his fingers, and I'm warm and comfortable and surrounded by him, so it doesn't take long for me to fall fast asleep again, right there in his arms. Where I belong.