shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-02-02 01:00:00 |
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You're lovely - H/R - PG
Title : You're lovely
Pairing : Harry/Ron
Prompt : Since I know Ron/Draco would kill you how about Clueless!Ron keeping Harry company when he's ill on the holidays? Sick!Sex optional, of course.
Words : 667
Rating : PG – sorry about the lack of sick!sex – Harry was just too smelly.
You're lovely
****
Ron ambled into the bedroom and put a hot toddy on Harry’s bedside table and a hand on his forehead.
“’m hot,” Harry whined.
“You’ve got a cold,” Ron said.
“Then why’m I hot?” Harry pouted.
Ron bit his lip to stop the snigger trying to get free. Harry could defeat Evil, but not Germs, and he was completely pitiful when he was sick.
So, even though it was Christmas, and the first Christmas since the war ended, Ron was not home at the Burrow, he was at Grimmauld Place, taking care of the Chosen One.
“Come on, up you get,” he said, cheerfully, hauling Harry upright and plumping up his pillows for him. “I put loads of Firewhiskey in your toddy – should clear you right out!”
“’Kay,” Harry muttered, taking the glass and sipping carefully.
Ron watched him until he’d drained the last drop and was frowning to bring the room into focus.
“What d’you need?” he asked him. “You’re all hot – d’you want fresh pyjamas?”
Harry sat up, shrugged and flopped bonelessly forward and rested his head on Ron’s shoulder.
“’s nice,” he sighed.
“What is?” Ron asked, rubbing his back.
“You looking after me.”
“’Course I’ll look after you,” Ron said.
“Hermione says you’re in love with me, but I’m not allowed to do an-y-thing about it until you realise it for yourself,” Harry said conversationally, before sitting up to focus unsteadily on Ron’s face.
Ron blinked at him.
“Whoops!” Harry whispered, bringing a finger unsteadily to his lips. “Shhh! Secret.”
“Harry?” Ron asked softly. “Is that true?”
“Would Hermione lie to me about something like that?” Harry replied triumphantly, collapsing back onto his pillows.
Ron blinked again.
Harry sighed dramatically. “I wish you’d hurry up and realise it, Ron,” he said. “I want you so much.”
“Me?” Ron gasped.
“’Course you,” Harry said indignantly. “You’re lovely,” he sighed.
Through the blind panic and frantic soul-and-sexuality-searching going on in most of his mind, Ron almost laughed at how cute Harry was when sick and drugged and tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry let down all his carefully maintained defences like this.
“You shouldn’t say things like that, Harry,” he muttered.
“Lovely freckles, lovely hair,” Harry whispered, as his eyes fluttered closed. “Wanna have sex…”
And he fell asleep.
Ron sat on the end of his bed all afternoon, watching him sleep.
Harry wanted him?
Like that?
And Hermione thought that he, Ron, was in love with his best mate?
Barking mad.
Of course he loved Harry. They were best mates.
Of course he loved Harry. More than anything in the world.
Oh. Oh.
Ron watched him sleep.
He was flushed and sweaty and his hair was plastered to his cheeks. The whiskey fumes had cleared his sinuses, but they soon clogged up again and he was breathing through his mouth and snuffling and snoring.
And he was beautiful.
Fucking perfect.
And what was Ron supposed to do when he woke up?
Would Harry remember what he’d said?
Suddenly he realised that Harry's eyes were open.
"Um," he said wittily.
"Thirsty," Harry said, blinking sleepily.
"You were sleeping with your mouth open," Ron explained, as casually as he could. "Making quite a racket."
Harry sat up and took the glass of water he held out to him. "And you watched me sleep?" he asked.
"Just, you know, keeping an eye on you," Ron muttered.
He took the empty glass and put it on the bedside table.
He drummed his fingers nervously on the table-top.
And Harry's hand closed over his.
"I remember what I said," Harry said quietly.
"Oh," Ron murmured.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, pulling back his hand.
"No!" Ron said quickly, reaching after him and capturing his fingers. "I… I honestly had never thought about it, Harry."
"That's OK."
"No, I meant I'd never thought of it before."
"And now?"
"Now I wonder why I was such an idiot," he said, flushing slightly and brushing Harry's cheek with the back of his fingertips.
****
Title : You're lovely
Pairing : Harry/Ron
Prompt : Since I know Ron/Draco would kill you how about Clueless!Ron keeping Harry company when he's ill on the holidays? Sick!Sex optional, of course.
Words : 667
Rating : PG – sorry about the lack of sick!sex – Harry was just too smelly.
You're lovely
****
Ron ambled into the bedroom and put a hot toddy on Harry’s bedside table and a hand on his forehead.
“’m hot,” Harry whined.
“You’ve got a cold,” Ron said.
“Then why’m I hot?” Harry pouted.
Ron bit his lip to stop the snigger trying to get free. Harry could defeat Evil, but not Germs, and he was completely pitiful when he was sick.
So, even though it was Christmas, and the first Christmas since the war ended, Ron was not home at the Burrow, he was at Grimmauld Place, taking care of the Chosen One.
“Come on, up you get,” he said, cheerfully, hauling Harry upright and plumping up his pillows for him. “I put loads of Firewhiskey in your toddy – should clear you right out!”
“’Kay,” Harry muttered, taking the glass and sipping carefully.
Ron watched him until he’d drained the last drop and was frowning to bring the room into focus.
“What d’you need?” he asked him. “You’re all hot – d’you want fresh pyjamas?”
Harry sat up, shrugged and flopped bonelessly forward and rested his head on Ron’s shoulder.
“’s nice,” he sighed.
“What is?” Ron asked, rubbing his back.
“You looking after me.”
“’Course I’ll look after you,” Ron said.
“Hermione says you’re in love with me, but I’m not allowed to do an-y-thing about it until you realise it for yourself,” Harry said conversationally, before sitting up to focus unsteadily on Ron’s face.
Ron blinked at him.
“Whoops!” Harry whispered, bringing a finger unsteadily to his lips. “Shhh! Secret.”
“Harry?” Ron asked softly. “Is that true?”
“Would Hermione lie to me about something like that?” Harry replied triumphantly, collapsing back onto his pillows.
Ron blinked again.
Harry sighed dramatically. “I wish you’d hurry up and realise it, Ron,” he said. “I want you so much.”
“Me?” Ron gasped.
“’Course you,” Harry said indignantly. “You’re lovely,” he sighed.
Through the blind panic and frantic soul-and-sexuality-searching going on in most of his mind, Ron almost laughed at how cute Harry was when sick and drugged and tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry let down all his carefully maintained defences like this.
“You shouldn’t say things like that, Harry,” he muttered.
“Lovely freckles, lovely hair,” Harry whispered, as his eyes fluttered closed. “Wanna have sex…”
And he fell asleep.
Ron sat on the end of his bed all afternoon, watching him sleep.
Harry wanted him?
Like that?
And Hermione thought that he, Ron, was in love with his best mate?
Barking mad.
Of course he loved Harry. They were best mates.
Of course he loved Harry. More than anything in the world.
Oh. Oh.
Ron watched him sleep.
He was flushed and sweaty and his hair was plastered to his cheeks. The whiskey fumes had cleared his sinuses, but they soon clogged up again and he was breathing through his mouth and snuffling and snoring.
And he was beautiful.
Fucking perfect.
And what was Ron supposed to do when he woke up?
Would Harry remember what he’d said?
Suddenly he realised that Harry's eyes were open.
"Um," he said wittily.
"Thirsty," Harry said, blinking sleepily.
"You were sleeping with your mouth open," Ron explained, as casually as he could. "Making quite a racket."
Harry sat up and took the glass of water he held out to him. "And you watched me sleep?" he asked.
"Just, you know, keeping an eye on you," Ron muttered.
He took the empty glass and put it on the bedside table.
He drummed his fingers nervously on the table-top.
And Harry's hand closed over his.
"I remember what I said," Harry said quietly.
"Oh," Ron murmured.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, pulling back his hand.
"No!" Ron said quickly, reaching after him and capturing his fingers. "I… I honestly had never thought about it, Harry."
"That's OK."
"No, I meant I'd never thought of it before."
"And now?"
"Now I wonder why I was such an idiot," he said, flushing slightly and brushing Harry's cheek with the back of his fingertips.
****