shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-01-16 01:00:00 |
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Testing - H/R - NC-17
Title: Testing
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words : 3200
Rating: NC-17
This is for my belovedmagicofisis, as a ‘reward’ for betaing all the stuff I cranked out for rosina_alcona’s birthday.
And I am such a lucky girl, because it has been beta’ed by the birthday girl herself, and the sexliciouskaalee!
Testing
****
Harry had always assumed that the three of them would get a flat together after they’d finished school, and that he’d defeat Voldemort and they would live some sort of happily ever after.
The Voldemort part had gone relatively smoothly, all things considered, and they had approached the end of their final term in rather good spirits. Until Ron had thrown a bit of a spanner in the works.
The three of them were sitting under a tree, by the side of the lake and Ron had cleared his throat and announced, “I need to tell you two something.”
They had both sat up and looked at him curiously. He had pulled his knees up to his chin and frowned and said, “I’m sorry to muck you up so near the end of term, but I have decided to get my own place when we leave.”
Harry had been speechless, but Hermione had asked, “Why?”
“Uh, it’s well, I’ve never had time by myself,” Ron frowned, trying to put something this complex into words. “The Burrow was too crowded to hear myself think, and then at school we’ve always done everything together – and that’s great,” he held out a hand to stop his indignant friends from speaking, “but there are some things I need to work through on my own.”
“What things?” asked Hermione.
“Just personal stuff, Hermione, nothing earth shattering,” he looked at her concerned face. “Look, I’ll tell you now, but I’m not going to discuss it until I’ve, uh, got the hang of things better. The thing is, I’m gay.”
“Um,” said Harry.
“Look,” said Hermione.
“And I’m not going to discuss it!” Ron overrode both of them. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I guess it’s finally something that makes me stand out from my brothers, right?” Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry laughed weakly. “I just need time to get the hang of things before I tell anyone else, OK?”
“Of course, Ron,” said Hermione. “You know we’ll always be here when you need us, won’t we Harry?”
“What? Oh, yeah, of course. Yeah.”
Ron shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”
****
Of course Hermione hadn’t left it at that, and had cornered Ron in the Common Room, when Harry had gone to send an owl to Remus, telling him of the change of plan, and asking him to find a two bedroom flat for him and Hermione.
“Ron, I wish you’d let us help you with this,” she said. “There is no need to do this on your own. We wouldn’t be shocked if you, um, brought someone home sometimes.”
Ron shushed her with both hands. “No. No, no, no. That’s not the problem. It’s Harry.”
“He’s fine with it, Ron. He’d never…”
“No, Hermione,” Ron sighed. “I need time away from Harry. I need to give myself a chance to, um, fall for someone else.” He looked at her sheepishly, and she made a strange noise and threw her arms around him.
“Oh, Ron,” she whispered against his neck. “Oh, what rotten luck. I’m so sorry. Anything you need me to do, you know I’m here for you, don’t you?”
Ron spat out some of the hair that was trying to strangle him and hugged her back. “Sure, Hermione, I know. I just need some time.”
****
A year later, Harry and Hermione were sharing a flat off of Diagon Alley; Hermione was working at the Ministry and Harry was training with the Cannons.
Ron had a small flat in Muggle London, much to the delight of his father. Hermione had helped him to find it and showed him how everything worked. He also worked at the Ministry, but they didn’t see much of him, as he was apparently trying out his new lifestyle in the Muggle gay bars and clubs.
The two boys hadn’t discussed it again, though Harry thought that Hermione spoke to Ron about it. They had all spent Christmas at the Burrow, and Harry had felt incredibly awkward sharing Ron’s old room, and he had been glad to get back to London.
But he was miserable. And he knew he was getting on Hermione’s nerves. Harry thought about the beginning of Fourth Year. It seemed they just didn’t have much fun without Ron.
One evening they were sitting in their lounge; Hermione was doing some paperwork she’d brought home from work, and Harry was tapping out an annoying rhythm on the coffee table with his wand.
“Hermione?” he asked.
“Hmmm,” she said, not looking up.
“How long has Ron known?” he asked.
“Hmmm?” she looked up. “Known what?”
Harry gave her a Look. “That he’s, you know what.”
“Voldemort?” asked Hermione, giving him a Look in return.
Harry snorted. “OK,” he said. “That he’s gay.”
“Why don’t you ask him that, Harry?” she said, gently. “He’d be happy to talk to you about it.”
Harry shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking him about it. It’s my fault. I think I’ve left it too long.”
“No, Harry,” she said, looking pained. “He’s still your best friend. You can talk to him about anything.”
“But how did he know? I mean, all those years at school…”
“Harry James Potter! You had better not be implying that the four of you were being ogled in the dorm or something!” Harry looked rather taken aback. “Because it isn’t easy to come to terms with something like that, especially at a boarding school. Think how hard it must have been for him.”
Harry sniggered.
“What?” asked Hermione, looking offended.
“Sharing a dorm with four guys – how hard it must have been for him all the time!”
Hermione looked furious. “That is exactly what he doesn’t need, Harry! And anyway, I always thought that you were the gay one.”
Harry spluttered. “Me? But what about the whole Cho thing?”
Hermione snorted. “Yes, because that went so well! And look at her. Not the curviest girl at school – that boyish, athletic build.”
“No!” Harry said, indignantly.
“I always thought that you and Ron were unusually close. Actually I thought that it was a brotherly thing on his part – he’s so used to having brothers, after all. But I rather expected that you, well, you never learnt how to show love as a child, and I thought your dependence and attachment to Ron was more than brotherly.”
“Well, you’ve finally got something wrong then, haven’t you, Hermione? If only it was something I could tell the world about.” And he stamped off to his room, complaining under his breath. Hermione watched him go, frowning slightly.
****
They hadn’t spoken about it again, but Harry had worried at the topic like an aching tooth. One of the people who knew him better than anyone in the world had thought that he was gay.
Why would she think that?
Maybe he didn’t show affection easily, and yes, he found it easier with Ron than almost anyone. But that was because they were best friends. The Thing He’d Miss Most, right? Right. How odd had that looked to the rest of the school? God.
And maybe he hadn’t dated much. But it was hard to trust someone, what with the whole Boy Who Lived thing. Apart from the girls he’d always known at school, how could he know if someone was interested in him? In Harry, not just some sort of celebrity.
There were plenty of girls hanging around a professional Quidditch team, and many players took advantage of this. Well, he hadn’t, but that just made him a good guy, not gay, right? He sighed.
How could he test if Hermione was right or not, without completely humiliating himself?
He needed a plan. But Hermione was always the one who always planned. He’d always just made things up as he went along.
Which is why he was standing outside a gay club in Muggle London one Friday night, eyeing the men going up the stairs. Well. All he had to do was go in and mingle. No one knew who he was. No one had ever heard of the Boy Who Lived. So if anyone approached him, it was personal, right? And then he could see what happened.
See what happened? He must be insane.
But he was a Gryffindor, so he plucked up his courage and entered the club.
The music was loud and poppy but the men on the dance floor seemed to be enjoying it. Harry went and bought a Becks then turned and tried to lean nonchalantly against the bar. It wasn’t exactly the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry watched the club’s patrons nervously.
An hour later he had a splitting headache from the music, had drunk three beers and had been offered at least six more. That is, he had been offered six drinks, and was pretty sure that they were the least of what was on offer. He hadn’t taken anyone up on their offers of beer, dancing or whatever.
His plan seemed to have worked. He had tested Hermione’s hypothesis. He wasn’t gay.
Retrieving his jacket from the cloakroom, he went out into the cool air and stomped off up the road. With his ears still ringing from the loud music, he didn’t hear the gang of teenage yobs heckling the queer boy walking home from the perverts’ club until it was too late.
Until he found himself beaten and robbed and left lying in the gutter. He hadn’t brought his wand with him, and now he was penniless and stuck in Muggle London. And there was only one person he knew who lived nearby. He groaned.
He groaned louder as he tried to stand. Definitely some ribs broken. His eye was swollen shut and his lip split. Bloody Hermione and her theories.
****
Twenty minutes later he was leaning on Ron’s doorstep and ringing the bell. Of course Ron would look after him, but what on earth was he going to say!
The door opened to reveal a Ron Weasley who looked surprised, pleased and shocked by turn as he looked at Harry and then looked closer. Reaching out to help him in, he gasped, “Harry! What on earth happened to you?”
They gingerly made their way inside and Ron sat him in the lounge while he went for his wand and some bandages. Ron knelt to unlace his boots, then unbuttoned and carefully removed Harry’s shirt and jeans and he slumped on the couch while Ron carefully washed, charmed and bandaged his cuts and repaired his ribs with a charm they’d learned during the War.
Then he sat back on the coffee table in front of Harry and surveyed his work. “Really, Harry, what happened?”
Harry tentatively licked his split lip, but it was healing nicely and he took a deep breath and said, “I was beaten up.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. “No kidding. Why didn’t you fight them off?”
“Because I was in Muggle London without my wand, OK?”
“That’s a bit stupid, isn’t it? Where were you going?”
Harry searched Ron’s face anxiously and then sighed and said, “I was beaten up coming out of a gay club.”
Ron’s other eyebrow shot up so high it disappeared into his hair. “What?” he spluttered.
“Well, Hermione has this theory, and I was sort of testing it.”
“A theory?”
“Yes, a theory. You know Hermione. She… she said she’d always thought that I was gay.”
Ron opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shook his head and tried again. “And you tested this how?”
“I went to a club. And I hated it. Several men approached me, but I wasn’t interested.” Maybe it didn’t sound too logical when he said it out loud.
“Harry,” Ron said gently. “You can’t just test if you’re gay like that. All you’ve tested is if you like clubbing. I don’t like clubbing. I just stand there and get a headache.”
“Me too!”
Ron laughed, slightly hysterically. “You’d have had a rotten time in a straight club and turned all the women down too, I know you.”
“Well, then how can I test it?” asked Harry, rather despondently.
Ron eyed him as if he was completely insane. “You don’t just test it, Harry. You can’t.”
“But what if you’ve thought about it, and thought about it, and think that what if maybe Hermione might be right.”
Ron groaned and ran one hand over his eyes. Then he slipped off the coffee table and knelt before Harry. Harry’s eyes opened wide and he ran his tongue over his lips again. Ron’s eyes followed the movement and he whispered, “Well, this is a much better test,” as he leant forward and slid his lips softly across Harry’s.
He pulled back and looked for a reaction, but Harry just looked dazed, so he cupped his face, sliding his long fingers into Harry’s hair and pulled him closer for a firmer kiss. Harry’s lips moved gently under his and Ron opened his mouth slightly. Harry gasped and Ron slipped his tongue between his parted lips. Harry made a very encouraging moaning noise and grasped Ron’s arms, so he deepened the kiss further, thrusting his tongue into Harry’s mouth and sliding it against the other boy’s.
Harry pulled back and swallowed, hard, still gripping onto Ron’s forearms. “Oh,” he said. “Well, that, um, does seem to make more sense.”
Ron grinned and leaned forward again, kissing Harry’s lips briefly before trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Harry’s head tilted back and he sighed as Ron sucked hard on his collarbone.
Harry finally let go of Ron’s arms as he let himself be pushed back on the cushions. His eyes fluttered closed as Ron’s hands gently explored his shoulders, chest and stomach.
“Interesting,” Harry murmured as Ron’s mouth followed his hands down Harry’s chest, biting and licking his skin until it closed over a nipple and sucked gently. “Ron,” he moaned, hands tangling in his friend’s bright hair.
Ron smiled and ran his tongue round and round Harry’s nipple, teasing it to a peak before moving off down his body once more. Digging his fingers hard into the muscles of Harry’s thighs, he bent low and rubbed his face like a cat against the bulge in Harry’s boxer shorts. Harry didn’t know what to do with his hands, half pushing Ron away, half holding him in place.
Ron nuzzled him again and a painful gasp ripped from his throat. When Ron hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s boxers, Harry lifted his hips and let Ron - Ron - slide them down his legs and toss them away. Ron stripped off his own clothes quickly and, before Harry could cover himself, he bent again and rubbed his cheek against Harry’s cock, and Harry’s thighs fell open as he groaned in delight.
Settling between them, Ron wrapped his hand firmly around the base of Harry’s erection and looked up, deliberately maintaining eye contact as he opened his mouth and took Harry’s cock deep into his mouth.
“Yes,” Harry hissed and thrust his hips forward as Ron sucked hard.
Ron built up a rhythm, sucking greedily as Harry’s cock thrust down his throat, and then sliding up again. Harry was bucking under him as he moved, and he used his free hand on Harry’s hipbone to hold him down.
Shaking and writhing under his friend’s mouth, Harry grasped Ron’s hair painfully as he thrust hard again and again, and then he came, calling Ron’s name.
Ron sucked gently until Harry had stopped jerking, then kissed and crawled up his body until they were face to face again. Harry tried to look away, but Ron touched his face and turned it back towards him. “Harry,” he whispered, softly, “it’s OK. Please. Look at me.”
Harry’s eyes lifted and finally locked on Ron’s. Ron bit his lip, nervously and said, “Well, I think Hermione may be right, mate.”
Harry laughed, shakily and reached up to stroke Ron’s face. “I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” he said, and Ron raised an eyebrow. “Yes, very funny. I mean it’s like using you to prove something to myself. You’ve kept this part of your life away from me.”
Ron climbed up onto the couch and pulled Harry into his lap. Stroking the untidy black hair out of his face he dropped random kisses on his cheeks, nose and lips.
“Harry,” he said, “I kept it away from you because I couldn’t come out and then share a flat with you. I’m… in love with you.”
“Me?” Harry gasped.
Ron sighed. “I tried to stay away; I thought I could move on. But you’re there in everything I do, Harry. I don’t know where I end and you begin.”
“Yes,” whispered Harry, “that’s exactly what it feels like. Hermione was wrong. I didn’t fancy anyone in that club. It’s you, it’s only you. I love you.”
Ron smiled. “You don’t have to say that, Harry.”
“Yes I do,” Harry said, kissing him. “And I want to make you feel as good as you did me, but I have no idea what I’m doing here.” He wriggled in Ron’s lap, rubbing up against the erection poking him in the thigh, and Ron groaned.
“Harry, are you sure about this?” Ron bit his lip, trying to hold him still.
“It’ll take a bit of getting used to,” Harry admitted, “but I’ve been thinking ‘where can I find someone who cares about me, Harry; where can I find someone I can trust; where can I find someone I can be vulnerable with’ and you’ve been there all the time. I’m such an idiot. You’ve been beside me for eight years and I never noticed. I’m sorry.”
“Wow,” whispered Ron, bending to capture Harry’s lips again. “You are so forgiven.”
He pushed Harry back until he laid full length on the couch and stretched out on top of him. Harry’s erection had returned and Ron slowly ground their cocks together. “We’ll take it slowly,” he whispered, nibbling at Harry’s neck
“We don’t have to,” gasped Harry, running his hands down Ron’s back and cupping his arse.
“I want to,” moaned Ron. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”
Bracing himself on his elbows, he tangled his legs with Harry’s and bent his head for a deep kiss. Then he raised his head and gazed into Harry’s eyes as he started moving against him.
They watched each other’s faces as they slid together on each stroke. Harry pulled Ron hard against him, Ron twisted his hips as he thrust against Harry, crushing their cocks between their bodies.
Harry was moaning and biting his lip and Ron had never seen anything so beautiful and with a cry he buried his face in Harry’s neck as he thrust again and again and again and his come coated their cocks and spread further as Harry writhed beneath him, almost sobbing as he tried to reach his climax.
Ron held him down and slipped one hand between their sweaty bodies, grasping Harry’s cock and stroking it hard until Harry shook and trembled and something hot splashed over Ron’s fingers.
They collapsed bonelessly together, both gasping for breath. Harry’s hands ran up and down Ron’s back, feeling the muscles twitch as he stroked them. Ron breathed in the smell of sweat and sex on Harry’s skin.
The smell of his sweat and Harry’s. Together.
“I don’t know where I end and you begin,” he whispered.
Title: Testing
Author:
shocfixPairing: Harry/Ron
Words : 3200
Rating: NC-17
This is for my beloved
magicofisis, as a ‘reward’ for betaing all the stuff I cranked out for rosina_alcona’s birthday.And I am such a lucky girl, because it has been beta’ed by the birthday girl herself, and the sexlicious
kaalee!Testing
****
Harry had always assumed that the three of them would get a flat together after they’d finished school, and that he’d defeat Voldemort and they would live some sort of happily ever after.
The Voldemort part had gone relatively smoothly, all things considered, and they had approached the end of their final term in rather good spirits. Until Ron had thrown a bit of a spanner in the works.
The three of them were sitting under a tree, by the side of the lake and Ron had cleared his throat and announced, “I need to tell you two something.”
They had both sat up and looked at him curiously. He had pulled his knees up to his chin and frowned and said, “I’m sorry to muck you up so near the end of term, but I have decided to get my own place when we leave.”
Harry had been speechless, but Hermione had asked, “Why?”
“Uh, it’s well, I’ve never had time by myself,” Ron frowned, trying to put something this complex into words. “The Burrow was too crowded to hear myself think, and then at school we’ve always done everything together – and that’s great,” he held out a hand to stop his indignant friends from speaking, “but there are some things I need to work through on my own.”
“What things?” asked Hermione.
“Just personal stuff, Hermione, nothing earth shattering,” he looked at her concerned face. “Look, I’ll tell you now, but I’m not going to discuss it until I’ve, uh, got the hang of things better. The thing is, I’m gay.”
“Um,” said Harry.
“Look,” said Hermione.
“And I’m not going to discuss it!” Ron overrode both of them. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I guess it’s finally something that makes me stand out from my brothers, right?” Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry laughed weakly. “I just need time to get the hang of things before I tell anyone else, OK?”
“Of course, Ron,” said Hermione. “You know we’ll always be here when you need us, won’t we Harry?”
“What? Oh, yeah, of course. Yeah.”
Ron shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”
****
Of course Hermione hadn’t left it at that, and had cornered Ron in the Common Room, when Harry had gone to send an owl to Remus, telling him of the change of plan, and asking him to find a two bedroom flat for him and Hermione.
“Ron, I wish you’d let us help you with this,” she said. “There is no need to do this on your own. We wouldn’t be shocked if you, um, brought someone home sometimes.”
Ron shushed her with both hands. “No. No, no, no. That’s not the problem. It’s Harry.”
“He’s fine with it, Ron. He’d never…”
“No, Hermione,” Ron sighed. “I need time away from Harry. I need to give myself a chance to, um, fall for someone else.” He looked at her sheepishly, and she made a strange noise and threw her arms around him.
“Oh, Ron,” she whispered against his neck. “Oh, what rotten luck. I’m so sorry. Anything you need me to do, you know I’m here for you, don’t you?”
Ron spat out some of the hair that was trying to strangle him and hugged her back. “Sure, Hermione, I know. I just need some time.”
****
A year later, Harry and Hermione were sharing a flat off of Diagon Alley; Hermione was working at the Ministry and Harry was training with the Cannons.
Ron had a small flat in Muggle London, much to the delight of his father. Hermione had helped him to find it and showed him how everything worked. He also worked at the Ministry, but they didn’t see much of him, as he was apparently trying out his new lifestyle in the Muggle gay bars and clubs.
The two boys hadn’t discussed it again, though Harry thought that Hermione spoke to Ron about it. They had all spent Christmas at the Burrow, and Harry had felt incredibly awkward sharing Ron’s old room, and he had been glad to get back to London.
But he was miserable. And he knew he was getting on Hermione’s nerves. Harry thought about the beginning of Fourth Year. It seemed they just didn’t have much fun without Ron.
One evening they were sitting in their lounge; Hermione was doing some paperwork she’d brought home from work, and Harry was tapping out an annoying rhythm on the coffee table with his wand.
“Hermione?” he asked.
“Hmmm,” she said, not looking up.
“How long has Ron known?” he asked.
“Hmmm?” she looked up. “Known what?”
Harry gave her a Look. “That he’s, you know what.”
“Voldemort?” asked Hermione, giving him a Look in return.
Harry snorted. “OK,” he said. “That he’s gay.”
“Why don’t you ask him that, Harry?” she said, gently. “He’d be happy to talk to you about it.”
Harry shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking him about it. It’s my fault. I think I’ve left it too long.”
“No, Harry,” she said, looking pained. “He’s still your best friend. You can talk to him about anything.”
“But how did he know? I mean, all those years at school…”
“Harry James Potter! You had better not be implying that the four of you were being ogled in the dorm or something!” Harry looked rather taken aback. “Because it isn’t easy to come to terms with something like that, especially at a boarding school. Think how hard it must have been for him.”
Harry sniggered.
“What?” asked Hermione, looking offended.
“Sharing a dorm with four guys – how hard it must have been for him all the time!”
Hermione looked furious. “That is exactly what he doesn’t need, Harry! And anyway, I always thought that you were the gay one.”
Harry spluttered. “Me? But what about the whole Cho thing?”
Hermione snorted. “Yes, because that went so well! And look at her. Not the curviest girl at school – that boyish, athletic build.”
“No!” Harry said, indignantly.
“I always thought that you and Ron were unusually close. Actually I thought that it was a brotherly thing on his part – he’s so used to having brothers, after all. But I rather expected that you, well, you never learnt how to show love as a child, and I thought your dependence and attachment to Ron was more than brotherly.”
“Well, you’ve finally got something wrong then, haven’t you, Hermione? If only it was something I could tell the world about.” And he stamped off to his room, complaining under his breath. Hermione watched him go, frowning slightly.
****
They hadn’t spoken about it again, but Harry had worried at the topic like an aching tooth. One of the people who knew him better than anyone in the world had thought that he was gay.
Why would she think that?
Maybe he didn’t show affection easily, and yes, he found it easier with Ron than almost anyone. But that was because they were best friends. The Thing He’d Miss Most, right? Right. How odd had that looked to the rest of the school? God.
And maybe he hadn’t dated much. But it was hard to trust someone, what with the whole Boy Who Lived thing. Apart from the girls he’d always known at school, how could he know if someone was interested in him? In Harry, not just some sort of celebrity.
There were plenty of girls hanging around a professional Quidditch team, and many players took advantage of this. Well, he hadn’t, but that just made him a good guy, not gay, right? He sighed.
How could he test if Hermione was right or not, without completely humiliating himself?
He needed a plan. But Hermione was always the one who always planned. He’d always just made things up as he went along.
Which is why he was standing outside a gay club in Muggle London one Friday night, eyeing the men going up the stairs. Well. All he had to do was go in and mingle. No one knew who he was. No one had ever heard of the Boy Who Lived. So if anyone approached him, it was personal, right? And then he could see what happened.
See what happened? He must be insane.
But he was a Gryffindor, so he plucked up his courage and entered the club.
The music was loud and poppy but the men on the dance floor seemed to be enjoying it. Harry went and bought a Becks then turned and tried to lean nonchalantly against the bar. It wasn’t exactly the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry watched the club’s patrons nervously.
An hour later he had a splitting headache from the music, had drunk three beers and had been offered at least six more. That is, he had been offered six drinks, and was pretty sure that they were the least of what was on offer. He hadn’t taken anyone up on their offers of beer, dancing or whatever.
His plan seemed to have worked. He had tested Hermione’s hypothesis. He wasn’t gay.
Retrieving his jacket from the cloakroom, he went out into the cool air and stomped off up the road. With his ears still ringing from the loud music, he didn’t hear the gang of teenage yobs heckling the queer boy walking home from the perverts’ club until it was too late.
Until he found himself beaten and robbed and left lying in the gutter. He hadn’t brought his wand with him, and now he was penniless and stuck in Muggle London. And there was only one person he knew who lived nearby. He groaned.
He groaned louder as he tried to stand. Definitely some ribs broken. His eye was swollen shut and his lip split. Bloody Hermione and her theories.
****
Twenty minutes later he was leaning on Ron’s doorstep and ringing the bell. Of course Ron would look after him, but what on earth was he going to say!
The door opened to reveal a Ron Weasley who looked surprised, pleased and shocked by turn as he looked at Harry and then looked closer. Reaching out to help him in, he gasped, “Harry! What on earth happened to you?”
They gingerly made their way inside and Ron sat him in the lounge while he went for his wand and some bandages. Ron knelt to unlace his boots, then unbuttoned and carefully removed Harry’s shirt and jeans and he slumped on the couch while Ron carefully washed, charmed and bandaged his cuts and repaired his ribs with a charm they’d learned during the War.
Then he sat back on the coffee table in front of Harry and surveyed his work. “Really, Harry, what happened?”
Harry tentatively licked his split lip, but it was healing nicely and he took a deep breath and said, “I was beaten up.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. “No kidding. Why didn’t you fight them off?”
“Because I was in Muggle London without my wand, OK?”
“That’s a bit stupid, isn’t it? Where were you going?”
Harry searched Ron’s face anxiously and then sighed and said, “I was beaten up coming out of a gay club.”
Ron’s other eyebrow shot up so high it disappeared into his hair. “What?” he spluttered.
“Well, Hermione has this theory, and I was sort of testing it.”
“A theory?”
“Yes, a theory. You know Hermione. She… she said she’d always thought that I was gay.”
Ron opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shook his head and tried again. “And you tested this how?”
“I went to a club. And I hated it. Several men approached me, but I wasn’t interested.” Maybe it didn’t sound too logical when he said it out loud.
“Harry,” Ron said gently. “You can’t just test if you’re gay like that. All you’ve tested is if you like clubbing. I don’t like clubbing. I just stand there and get a headache.”
“Me too!”
Ron laughed, slightly hysterically. “You’d have had a rotten time in a straight club and turned all the women down too, I know you.”
“Well, then how can I test it?” asked Harry, rather despondently.
Ron eyed him as if he was completely insane. “You don’t just test it, Harry. You can’t.”
“But what if you’ve thought about it, and thought about it, and think that what if maybe Hermione might be right.”
Ron groaned and ran one hand over his eyes. Then he slipped off the coffee table and knelt before Harry. Harry’s eyes opened wide and he ran his tongue over his lips again. Ron’s eyes followed the movement and he whispered, “Well, this is a much better test,” as he leant forward and slid his lips softly across Harry’s.
He pulled back and looked for a reaction, but Harry just looked dazed, so he cupped his face, sliding his long fingers into Harry’s hair and pulled him closer for a firmer kiss. Harry’s lips moved gently under his and Ron opened his mouth slightly. Harry gasped and Ron slipped his tongue between his parted lips. Harry made a very encouraging moaning noise and grasped Ron’s arms, so he deepened the kiss further, thrusting his tongue into Harry’s mouth and sliding it against the other boy’s.
Harry pulled back and swallowed, hard, still gripping onto Ron’s forearms. “Oh,” he said. “Well, that, um, does seem to make more sense.”
Ron grinned and leaned forward again, kissing Harry’s lips briefly before trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Harry’s head tilted back and he sighed as Ron sucked hard on his collarbone.
Harry finally let go of Ron’s arms as he let himself be pushed back on the cushions. His eyes fluttered closed as Ron’s hands gently explored his shoulders, chest and stomach.
“Interesting,” Harry murmured as Ron’s mouth followed his hands down Harry’s chest, biting and licking his skin until it closed over a nipple and sucked gently. “Ron,” he moaned, hands tangling in his friend’s bright hair.
Ron smiled and ran his tongue round and round Harry’s nipple, teasing it to a peak before moving off down his body once more. Digging his fingers hard into the muscles of Harry’s thighs, he bent low and rubbed his face like a cat against the bulge in Harry’s boxer shorts. Harry didn’t know what to do with his hands, half pushing Ron away, half holding him in place.
Ron nuzzled him again and a painful gasp ripped from his throat. When Ron hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry’s boxers, Harry lifted his hips and let Ron - Ron - slide them down his legs and toss them away. Ron stripped off his own clothes quickly and, before Harry could cover himself, he bent again and rubbed his cheek against Harry’s cock, and Harry’s thighs fell open as he groaned in delight.
Settling between them, Ron wrapped his hand firmly around the base of Harry’s erection and looked up, deliberately maintaining eye contact as he opened his mouth and took Harry’s cock deep into his mouth.
“Yes,” Harry hissed and thrust his hips forward as Ron sucked hard.
Ron built up a rhythm, sucking greedily as Harry’s cock thrust down his throat, and then sliding up again. Harry was bucking under him as he moved, and he used his free hand on Harry’s hipbone to hold him down.
Shaking and writhing under his friend’s mouth, Harry grasped Ron’s hair painfully as he thrust hard again and again, and then he came, calling Ron’s name.
Ron sucked gently until Harry had stopped jerking, then kissed and crawled up his body until they were face to face again. Harry tried to look away, but Ron touched his face and turned it back towards him. “Harry,” he whispered, softly, “it’s OK. Please. Look at me.”
Harry’s eyes lifted and finally locked on Ron’s. Ron bit his lip, nervously and said, “Well, I think Hermione may be right, mate.”
Harry laughed, shakily and reached up to stroke Ron’s face. “I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” he said, and Ron raised an eyebrow. “Yes, very funny. I mean it’s like using you to prove something to myself. You’ve kept this part of your life away from me.”
Ron climbed up onto the couch and pulled Harry into his lap. Stroking the untidy black hair out of his face he dropped random kisses on his cheeks, nose and lips.
“Harry,” he said, “I kept it away from you because I couldn’t come out and then share a flat with you. I’m… in love with you.”
“Me?” Harry gasped.
Ron sighed. “I tried to stay away; I thought I could move on. But you’re there in everything I do, Harry. I don’t know where I end and you begin.”
“Yes,” whispered Harry, “that’s exactly what it feels like. Hermione was wrong. I didn’t fancy anyone in that club. It’s you, it’s only you. I love you.”
Ron smiled. “You don’t have to say that, Harry.”
“Yes I do,” Harry said, kissing him. “And I want to make you feel as good as you did me, but I have no idea what I’m doing here.” He wriggled in Ron’s lap, rubbing up against the erection poking him in the thigh, and Ron groaned.
“Harry, are you sure about this?” Ron bit his lip, trying to hold him still.
“It’ll take a bit of getting used to,” Harry admitted, “but I’ve been thinking ‘where can I find someone who cares about me, Harry; where can I find someone I can trust; where can I find someone I can be vulnerable with’ and you’ve been there all the time. I’m such an idiot. You’ve been beside me for eight years and I never noticed. I’m sorry.”
“Wow,” whispered Ron, bending to capture Harry’s lips again. “You are so forgiven.”
He pushed Harry back until he laid full length on the couch and stretched out on top of him. Harry’s erection had returned and Ron slowly ground their cocks together. “We’ll take it slowly,” he whispered, nibbling at Harry’s neck
“We don’t have to,” gasped Harry, running his hands down Ron’s back and cupping his arse.
“I want to,” moaned Ron. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”
Bracing himself on his elbows, he tangled his legs with Harry’s and bent his head for a deep kiss. Then he raised his head and gazed into Harry’s eyes as he started moving against him.
They watched each other’s faces as they slid together on each stroke. Harry pulled Ron hard against him, Ron twisted his hips as he thrust against Harry, crushing their cocks between their bodies.
Harry was moaning and biting his lip and Ron had never seen anything so beautiful and with a cry he buried his face in Harry’s neck as he thrust again and again and again and his come coated their cocks and spread further as Harry writhed beneath him, almost sobbing as he tried to reach his climax.
Ron held him down and slipped one hand between their sweaty bodies, grasping Harry’s cock and stroking it hard until Harry shook and trembled and something hot splashed over Ron’s fingers.
They collapsed bonelessly together, both gasping for breath. Harry’s hands ran up and down Ron’s back, feeling the muscles twitch as he stroked them. Ron breathed in the smell of sweat and sex on Harry’s skin.
The smell of his sweat and Harry’s. Together.
“I don’t know where I end and you begin,” he whispered.