"Harry, I think you should fuck me."
"Shh, keep it down," Harry hissed, looking furtively around Ron's room as if someone would magically appear at the mere mention of the word, which was only a faint chance, really, but you never knew.
Ron rolled his eyes and flopped over onto his stomach. They were both sprawled out on Ron's bed, and despite the rumpled state of the sheets and Ron's best efforts at making it otherwise, they were both still fully dressed.
"Why don't you take out an ad in the Daily Prophet while you're at it," Harry added irritably, "Then everyone would know."
Ron laughed, reaching out to run a hand over Harry's clothed chest. "Please. Everyone already thinks we're doing it. Why not prove them right?"
"Your parents..."
"My parents," Ron interrupted smoothly, "think we are doing it too. My father already gave me The Talk." He snickered. "He was so red I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. At least you don't have to worry about your Uncle Vernon giving you that talk."
"What makes you think he hasn't?"
Ron raised his eyebrows and looked mildly impressed. "Really? What did he say?"
Slapping away Ron's still questing hand, Harry replied, "I believe he said, and I quote, 'If you get some silly bit of fluff preggers then don't expect me to support the lot of you.'"
"That's friendly," Ron remarked, undeterred at Harry's squirming protests as he neatly undid a button on Harry's shirt and slipped a finger inside. "Although, to his credit, if you got me knocked up my mum and dad would probably want a word with us too."
Harry snickered, imagining the look on Uncle Vernon's face if he ever realized just how unlikely it would be for Harry to get the person he was dating pregnant. "A word, at the very least," he agreed, before he pushed away Ron's searching fingers in exasperation and buttoned his shirt again despite Ron's efforts at hampering him. "Would you stop? Look, I know we've been playing around for a while now, it's just that doing...that..."
"Fucking?" Ron supplied helpfully.
"Making love," he corrected, giving Ron a look that clearly said he wasn't buying his friend's innocent expression one bit. "It should be more than just...than just fucking." He grimaced at the crudeness of the word. "It should mean something more than...hey!" he squawked as Ron groped the front of his pants, pulling back before Harry could do
anything.
"Sorry," said Ron, not sounding sorry at all. "I was just checking to see when you turned into a girl."
"Oh, very funny," Harry said sarcastically. "I just think this, you know, the first time, should be something special, is all."
Ron stopped, his busy hands pausing in their battle with Harry over the buttons before they withdrew complete. "So," he said slowly, "What you're saying is that I'm not special?"
Oh, for crying out loud, Harry thought in annoyance. Trust Ron to take it completely the wrong way. "I didn't mean..." he tried, reaching out to his friend and not particularly surprised when Ron avoided his hands, flinching back.
"No, maybe you're right," Ron said, scooting to the edge of the bed. "Maybe this whole thing has just been a mistake."
"Ron..."
"No, no," Ron waved him off, reaching for his shoes. "It's all right, just because I'm stupid enough to think..."
He oofed as Harry tackled him and shoved him back onto the bed, straddling him to keep him pinned. Hurt green eyes blinked up at Harry, a wealth of uncertainty and self-doubt clearly visible in their depths.
With a sigh of surrender, Harry leaned down and kissed him, parting warm lips with the tip of his tongue and coaxing Ron's lax tongue to play with his. It took a moment of persuasion, but Harry was patient and Ron finally relaxed, kissing Harry back eagerly.
They were both breathing heavily a moment later when they broke apart. Harry rested his forehead on Ron's, catching his breath before he confessed quietly, "I just don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," Ron said brightly, bouncing back from his bout of depression with surprising swiftness. Harry looked at him suspiciously but Ron just continued on blithely. "You're not going to hurt me, it's the easiest thing in the world."
"Oh, like you've had so much more experience than me," Harry remarked dryly.
"No, but I've read enough books on it that if I ever got desperate enough I could probably turn tricks down on the corners of Knockturn Alley."
Harry laughed aloud. "You're such a romantic."
"I try," said Ron modestly. "Anyway, what did you think I was spending all that time in the library reading? The History of Magic texts? Not likely." He kissed Harry again with practiced ease, but his hands were far less adept as they fumbled again with the buttons on Harry's shirt.
Harry threw up mental hands and finally gave in. He wanted this as much as Ron, the only person he was fooling was himself, and he had to admit, he was tired of their groping sessions ending with both of them panting and frustrated.
"All those books say the same thing," Ron said, breaking the kiss to nuzzle at Harry's ear. "First, you need a willing lover." He gestured
at himself. "Obviously."
"Willing lover," Harry managed, torn between the need to laugh and the need to hold still and let Ron lick his ear.
"Second, you need lubricant, which I just happen to have." He leaned over the side of the bed, searching. Harry shifted to watch him, a little too close because when Ron rose up on his knees to get better leverage, he bumped Harry's chin with his derriere.
"Sorry." Muffled by the bedclothes as Ron continued rummaging around. Harry was staring at the rounded bottom right in front of his eyes. Ron on his knees with his backside in the air. Now that was a temptation he couldn't resist. Already blushing at his daring, Harry leaned forward and sank his teeth into Ron's rear.
Ron's reaction was most inspiring.
He yelped, flailing, and Harry had to grab his hips to keep him from falling off the bed. He tugged Ron back up, a little too hard because Ron fell backwards instead, right into Harry's lap.
"Well," said Ron, looking startled and pleased at the same time. "I think you skipped ahead a few lessons." Harry moved to kiss him but before he could a small tube appeared before his eyes, waggling from two of Ron's fingers.
"This is lubricant," Ron explained patiently, sounding for all the world as if he was explaining to a stranger how to play Quidditch. No, he would be more enthused over the Quidditch. "Lubricant," he repeated, shooting Harry a suspicious look and Harry quickly paid attention to what he was saying. "You put a lot on you and a lot on me and then you're set."
"Put it on you?" Harry repeated blankly and for the first time since they'd started this Ron blushed crimson to the roots of his hair and probably further.
"You know," he mumbled, "On me."
Dawning awareness struck Harry and he blushed at least a shade darker than Ron. "Oh," he said weakly. "Are you sure this is a good idea? It seems really complex..."
"Of course I'm sure," Ron declared, perhaps a little too firmly, but this time when he started to strip away Harry's clothes, he allowed it, shivering a little when he was naked. Ron stripped himself briskly as well, and in moments they were both sprawled across the bed, completely starkers.
Despite his embarrassment, Harry had to admit that he'd been curious to see what Ron looked like minus his clothes for some time now. Their furtive gropings in the dark of their dorm room beneath their pajamas didn't exactly give much information on that, especially when they were concentrating on keeping as quiet as they could, at Harry's insistence because Ron could care less what their roommates thought of it.
Not that it matter much. Seamus and Dean wouldn't have heard them over their own noise and Neville could sleep through a full-fledged attack by rabid harpies.
Now there was a very large expanse of very naked skin right in front of his eyes, and Harry didn't seem to be able to look at anything else. At least he knew now that Ron was a natural redhead, he thought somewhat hysterically, and they weren't going to get very far with this if all of his blood was going to stay in his face.
Ron seemed just as interested in his naked skin as he was in Ron's, although Ron certainly didn't seem as embarrassed, since he reached right over to touch a few parts of Harry's body that he hadn't seen before. He ran a gentle, curious hand over Harry's genitals, cupping the velvet sac of his balls in one palm while the other ghosted over the softness of Harry's penis. It didn't stay soft for long, seemed to recognize Ron as the one who'd petted him so nicely through his pajama bottoms all those times, and it perked up eagerly to Ron's touch.
'Traitor,' Harry managed to think before he sank backwards on the bed, Ron looming over him and his hands moved uncertainly, but readily, touching and stroking, and all of it felt strange and shivery and wonderful. Without thinking, he put his hands on Ron's shoulders and pulled him down on top of him, and that was even better, Ron's skin was hot and smooth, and the heat of his erection branded into Harry's stomach as they leaned closer together and kissed.
Their tongues tangling together, Ron shifted again, moving so that his cock was aligned with Harry's and their shafts rubbed together, a soft mutual moan at the touch was muffled between their mouths.
Harry wasn't sure which one of them moved first, rocking their hips and sliding hot flesh between their bodies, but from that moment neither of them could stop, moving against each other, awkwardly at first, but eagerly, finding a rhythm in their movements.
"Oh...oh...that's...good..." Ron was whimpering, burying his face into Harry's neck and he dizzily agreed, this -was- good, really good, and why had he wanted to wait to do this again...? Oh yeah, he wanted it to be special. If this got any more special it would probably kill him.
Ron suddenly made a high, keening noise, muffling it against Harry's skin and Harry felt something pulse wetly on his stomach between their bodies. Ron had come, he realized, moving against him like that and the thought was suddenly unbearably exciting. He shifted his grip down to Ron's hips, holding him there while he thrust upward against the other boy's stomach, his penis sliding easily on the wetness between them and with a choked moan he came too, orgasm rushing through him and it felt about ten times better than he'd ever thought it could. A hundred times better.
They collapsed together limply on the bed, both panting for breath and Harry felt abruptly shy in the aftermath. Hesitantly, he reached up to stroke Ron's sweat dampened hair, ready to snatch his hand back in an instant, but Ron sighed contentedly at the touch, his warm breath caressing Harry's skin.
"See?" he murmured, not bothering to open his eyes. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?
Harry had to laugh at that. "I suppose not," he agreed with exaggerated reluctance. "I reckon I'll survive."
"Glad one of us will. I think I'm dead."
He laughed again. "You can't be dead, we didn't even make it through your list of rules," Harry teased. "All we had was a willing partner. We never even used the lubricant. Besides," he said, letting his hand drift daringly down to Ron's backside, brushing over the still-visible teeth marks from his earlier bite. "You said you wanted me to fuck you and we didn't do that."
"No, we didn't. You said you didn't want to fuck me," Ron said with great dignity. "That was making love. 'Sides, we made our own lubricant." He ran a finger through the sticky mess on Harry's stomach before he looked up and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Wanna use it?"
"I've created a monster," he groaned before Ron's lips silenced his words. Well, they did have lubricant, he decided, rolling over and pinning Ron beneath him. Be a shame not to put it to good use.
-finis-
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