shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-01-01 01:00:00 |
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Walk on the Wild Side - H/R - NC-17
Title: Walk on the Wild Side
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for the Harry/Weasley Slash FQF :
One of the Weasley boys has the misfortune to fall in love with straight as a Broomstick Harry Potter. Willing to take what he can get he Polyjuices into his younger sister Ginny and sets out to seduce the boy who lived. To his credit, Harry tries to let her down gently when he confesses to her that he not only prefers boys over girls but also one of Ginny's brothers over her.
Warnings: This story contains slash – more to the point it contains my first attempt at writing slash, so if it isn’t clear whose cock is throbbing, well, I need some more adjectives ! It also contains teeth cleaning, which is non-canon, I know, but I feel it should figure more often in fanon.
I was reading ‘As You Like It’, trying to get a good cross-dressing quote for a title. My ‘Current Music’ was my ‘as recommended by Daniel Radcliffe’ playlist – and I realised I was listening to the perfect lyrics!
******
“Plucked her eyebrows on the way
shaved her leg and then he was a she
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side”
Walk On The Wild Side : Lou Reed
It was nearly midnight when a sopping wet Ron Weasley climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. The room was otherwise deserted and he dripped over to a couch in front of the dwindling fire and slumped despondently into it. Dropping his broom on the floor and his head onto the cushions, he closed his eyes and sighed. Well, he was completely shattered; maybe tonight he’d have a dreamless nights’ sleep.
There was a soft footstep behind him, and a towel dropped around his shoulders.
“You didn’t have to wait up, Hermione,” he murmured.
“How d’you know it was me?” she asked, a smile audible in her voice.
“Well, Ginny’d’ve thrown the towel at me if she’d waited up this late. And everyone else, except Harry, went home for Christmas.”
Hermione pulled him forwards to sit upright and started towelling his hair dry. “You are going to catch a cold, Ron. What were you doing out this late in the rain?”
“Quidditch practice,” he muttered, somewhere under the towel.
“Well, Harry and Ginny came in over an hour ago, Ron. Why did you stay out?” she tried to keep her voice light and just politely interested, but knew she sounded like she was nagging him.
“It’s our final year Hermione, and I’m Captain. This is really important to me.” He shook off the towel and her hands and emerged, blinking in the firelight, his red hair still damp, dark and spiky from the rain.
“It’s…” Hermione began, then screwed up her face and stopped. “You…”
Ron snorted. “I know you don’t care about Quidditch, Hermione. Just drop it.”
“It’s not the Quidditch. That’s not why you were outside in the rain, is it?” She tried to catch his eye, but he swung around to stare into the fire and shrugged.
“’course it’s the Quidditch, Hermione. What else would make me fly in the rain at this time of night?” His face was flushed, and he was trying to look like this was because of the heat from the dying flames.
“Harry,” she said.
Ron flushed darker and glared at the fire, which had just sunk down and couldn’t be blamed for his sudden colour. Reluctantly he turned to face Hermione. “Well, of course I’m worried about Harry. It’s only been six months since Hagrid died; Harry is still cut up about it, we’ve talked about this, Hermione.”
“I know how low Harry is feeling, and, yes we’ve talked about him all this term. But now I want to talk about you.”
“Me?” Ron look truly worried. “What have I done?”
“You watch him, Ron. All the time,” Hermione said, very gently.
“Well, of course I do. He’s my best mate and he’s lost yet another friend. I said I was worried about him. I care about him.”
“You love him.”
“What is it with girls and feelings?” Ron grimaced. “OK, he’s my best friend, I love him.”
“No, you are in love with him.”
“Oh.” Ron turned to the fire again, but now he’d gone rather pale and each freckle stood out starkly in the dying firelight. “How d’you know? Shit, Harry doesn’t know, does he?”
Hermione shook her head quickly. “No, it’s ok, just me. I know because I know you very well, Ron. I have watched you,” she sighed, “you can’t keep your eyes off of him.”
“Oh Hermione, what am I going to do? I’m with him every waking moment, and I dream about him every night. I need to stop this – it’s awful.” He turned back towards her and gazed down at her with a desperate look in his eyes. “How can I get past this?”
“Do you really want to get past it? You can’t just stop loving someone, Ron. And you can’t only love people when it’s convenient.”
“Ugh. Hermione. It’s not just inconvenient. It’s…it’s…wrong.”
“Wrong?” Hermione looked utterly furious. “How can you say that? No one can help their sexuality. Actually I don’t know how the wizard world sees gay people, but if their attitude to elves and werewolves is any…”
“No, Hermione,” Ron broke in, catching her hands, which were waving wildly in the air between them. “It’s wrong to fall in love with someone who is so, well, straight. All the girls who fall for him, well, they know that maybe they could have a chance with him. Look at how much he fancied Cho. And then last year he dated Susan, and he took Katie to the Valentine’s Ball. Even Ginny. I know she says she’s given up on him, but I know that deep down she’d still fall at his feet if he showed an interest. But not me.” He laughed, bitterly.
“I’m closer to him than anyone. I know him better than anyone. I’ve been in love with him for over a year. He slept in my room all summer and I lay there and listened to him breathing. I watched him in the moonlight and he is so beautiful. And it’s not because of all that Boy Who Lived crap, it’s because he’s Harry, and I wanted to reach out and touch him, you know? And I can touch him. He’d realise she wanted him if a girl touched him – he’d notice her. But not me. I can slap him on the back after Quidditch. I can sling my arm around his shoulders and whisper in his ear. Shit, I can wake him up by leaping onto his bed, straddling him and tickling him. But he’ll never notice me. It’s just best mate stuff, isn’t it?” he was still holding her hands, and she squeezed them tightly. “If just once I could touch his face, and he’d look at me and, well, want me. I just want to see that in his eyes. I just want to kiss him. Once. Just once.” There, he’d said it.
“Oh Ron,” she whispered. “What if…”
He pulled away. “No, Hermione. There can’t be a ‘what if’.”
“Actually there can,” she said and reached into her pocket for a vial. “This is a ‘what if’, Ron.”
He stared at the scarlet potion in the vial. “What is it?”
“It’s a ‘What if you Polyjuiced into someone who could touch his face. Someone who could kiss him’.”
“Fuck.”
“Well, if you’re really lucky,” she blushed.
“Hermione, did you just make a dirty joke?” Ron’s world was rocking on its axis tonight.
Hermione blushed deeper.
“Sod that. Hermione, did you make Polyjuice again just so I can kiss Harry?” She nodded. “Did you steal stuff from Snape again?” She nodded. “You’ve been working on this for a month?” She nodded. “And there is someone’s hair in there already?” She nodded again. “Bloody hell, Hermione. Why?”
“I want you to be happy, Ron. My original ‘what if’ when I started brewing it was ‘what if I Polyjuiced into Harry and kissed you’. But you’d know it was me, and it wouldn’t be him kissing you. I think it’s better that it’s really Harry, that you see the um…lust or whatever in Harry’s eyes, even if he doesn’t know he’s looking at you. Of course, better is a relative term. It’s only marginally better. I have more of the Polyjuice, if you’d like me to be Harry instead.” She blushed again.
“Shit Hermione.” Ron’s eyes and hair looked equally wild, as he rolled one and ran his fingers through the other. “You can’t just say that. Shit. And I don’t know how to act like a girl. I can’t giggle and simper at him – who’s in there, Lavender or someone?”
“No. It’s Ginny.”
“Ginny?” Ron squeaked.
“Well, you know Ginny well enough to play her. And she doesn’t simper. She’s sporty, athletic. She knows all about Quidditch, and she talks to Harry already. You both look a lot alike anyway. Sort of.”
“Ginny,” he murmured. “Polyjuice into my sister, go up to Harry’s room and make a pass at him.”
“You’re angry with me for interfering, aren’t you Ron?” Hermione slumped back onto the couch and twirled the vial between her fingers. “I’ve thought about this. And if you really don’t think you have a chance any other way. Well, you did say all you wanted was to kiss him ‘Once. Just once.’. I know it’s unorthodox. I just wanted to help you.”
“I’m not angry, Hermione. I’m stunned. I can’t believe anyone would go to such an effort just for me to snog Harry.” He stood up and started pacing in front of her. “D’you really think it’d work? Bugger. Am I really considering this? It could work. Ginny is so pretty, he’d be crazy to turn me down. Just one kiss. Then I leave. He’d be too embarrassed to bring it up with her, wouldn’t he? She be all ‘acting as if nothing happened’, ‘cos she wouldn’t know anything had happened.”
“So, are we doing this?” asked Hermione.
Ron turned and stood in front of her. “We’re doing this.”
Hermione reached behind the couch and pulled out a bundle of clothes. He recognised them as a skirt and top of Ginny’s. He didn’t recognise the knickers.
“What, now?” he squawked, his voice cracking like it hadn’t done in years.
“Well, Harry is alone up there. How could you do it once Neville, Seamus and Dean get back?”
“Don’t try and sound reasonable, Hermione. We are about to do something dreadful to our best friend in the world. OK, give me the potion.”
She handed over the vial and he uncorked it and sniffed it gingerly. “Well, essence of Ginny has to taste better than essence of Crabbe.” And he put it to his lips and swallowed it in one gulp. It did taste far better than he remembered from second year, but it didn’t feel any better. He held out his hands and his skin was writhing and melting and shrinking before his eyes. His whole scalp prickled as his hair burst out and cascaded down over his shoulders. It felt like he was being crushed as his bones shortened and his muscles melted away. And then it was over. He looked down, and even through the huge, damp Quidditch robes, he could definitely see breasts.
“Blimey!” he said. He looked up at Hermione. She was looking at him like he was an experiment.
“That was amazing, Ron,” she breathed. “It looked like time was going backwards, and you were just shrinking – though I don’t think your freckles even moved!” She held the bundle of clothes out to him. “Here, quickly, you’d better change.”
He started to strip off his robes, realised Hermione was watching him, stopped, blushed and said “Hermione, turn around!”
She laughed. “Why, ‘Ginny’? I’ve shared a room with you for years, I’ve seen you change a thousand times. Gosh, Ron. It’s a really good thing we did make you Ginny. You really shouldn’t undress any other girl. You’d better not look, anyway.”
“Hermione, even if I weren’t gay, I wouldn’t look at my sister’s boobs.” And rolling his eyes to the ceiling and keeping them there, he undressed and fumbled his way into the knickers, skirt and t-shirt that Hermione handed him. “OK, I have had some weird experiences in my life, but this just tops the lot. How do I look? They’re a bit too loose and comfy, shouldn’t I go for sexier?”
“They’re perfect. Let’s see you walk.”
He stood again and tried to stride around the room; it didn’t take long to get used to the reduced length of leg, but the different way his hips swung as he walked threw him off balance to start with. “It’s a good thing Ginny doesn’t wear heels,” he muttered, “my hip joints are working strangely enough as it is. How do you do this? I tell you, it’s a whole different sex.”
“OK, Ron. That’s fine, you won’t have to do that much walking up there. Now, you’re wasting time. Go!”
He turned to her and swallowed, hard. “I will. I’ll go. I’ll do it.”
She kissed him on the cheek – strange how she didn’t have to stretch up on tiptoe – and as he turned and walked up the stairs to the boys’ dorms, she sank down into an armchair and whispered ‘Oh god, I hope nothing goes wrong.”
******
Ron climbed swiftly till he stood outside the Seventh Years’ dorm. He raised his hand to knock, but then paused. Bloody hell, what do I say? he thought. Or maybe just coming to his room at midnight is obvious enough? Hell, you’re a Gryffindor. You can go on in there and pretend to be a woman and kiss him. Oh shit! He shook his head violently and clouds of stunning red hair flew around his face. He knocked.
“Yup,” came Harry’s voice from inside, and he turned the knob, opened the door and slipped inside.
Harry was lying on his bed, reading. He was wearing pyjamas and Ron felt himself blush as he looked at him. “What’s wrong, Gin? Isn’t it a bit late?”
Ron licked his lips and walked over to Harry’s bed and sat down. Not very gracefully, as he wasn’t used to the mattress being at crotch height, rather than knee height. Harry raised an eyebrow.
Ron cleared his throat. “Harry,” he said. “Harry, I need to ask you something. I, um, know I used to make a fool of myself over you, but I was only eleven, and I have grown up a lot since then. I really have moved on, and you know I have dated other, uh, boys.” Harry sat up and held out one hand, trying to stop what was coming. “But I have always wondered what it would have been like. I will always wonder. What it would be like. To kiss you. Just once.” He put one trembling hand on Harry’s cheek. He ran his thumb over the lips that had parted to speak, and he leaned forward to claim them.
“No!” said Harry, and jerked away, “I can’t.”
Ron sat back and blinked. OK, that was embarrassing, but I guess it was embarrassing for Ginny. “Why not, Harry? Just one kiss. It doesn’t have to mean anything. And I swear I’ll never mention it again.” Hey, that was clever. That would cover him.
“Yes, you can,” he said out loud, and he knelt up on the bed and leant over Harry. There was a definite hint of panic in those green eyes, and he saw Harry swallow, nervously. “Just one kiss, Harry,” he tried to sound seductive, “just one. I won’t tell anyone.” He put one hand on Harry’s shoulder, and the other once more stroked the face that had haunted his dreams. “Just close your eyes, and kiss me… kiss me…” He slipped his hand into the messy black hair and, tangling his fingers in the strands, pulled Harry closer. So close. Their lips were going to touch. Ron’s lips opened to taste Harry’s. Harry’s opened to gasp “No!” and he twisted away and leapt off of the bed.
“Bugger!” muttered Ron. It’s a good thing Ginny swears, too. He couldn’t turn and look at Harry. Now what? He’d made a fool of himself. Shit, I’ve made a fool of Ginny. She’ll kill me.
“Gin,” said Harry, tentatively, “look at me.” Ron rolled his eyes and turned to face his best friend. “Look, Gin, I don’t want to embarrass you like this. You must think I’m a real bastard. But, well, the thing is. Oh god. I guess I owe you the truth, huh?”
Oh, shit “No, Harry, it’s entirely my fault. What must you think of me? Please, we’ll just never, ever mention it again. Ever.” Ron stood and tried to move towards the door.
“It’s not you, really.”
“Oh, please,” even Ron wasn’t buying that one, “‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Who actually says that?”
“It’s not you or me – it’s someone else. I’m in love with someone else.” Harry looked flustered. “I mean, I’m not with someone else, but I want to be. And even though I’m not, so I could kiss you - I mean, no one would say I couldn’t - but I can’t. Not you.”
“What d’you mean ‘not me’?” Ron couldn’t believe how offended he felt on his poor sister’s behalf. Any bloke would be mad to pass up such a great girl.
“Oh shit,” muttered Harry, “look I’m really bad at this stuff. Ask either of the two girls I made a complete prat of myself with, ok?” He ran his hands through his hair and paces the room, nervously. “Not Cho, because she kissed me and then just cried on me. But Susan, yeah, ask Susan. Four dates. Then she tried to kiss me, and I ducked and nearly broke her nose with my forehead.”
“But you said…”
“Well, I couldn’t tell anyone how awful it was. At least Katie was just a ‘Quidditch date’. No relationship implied, just a good evening. Well, she knew how I felt about….” Harry sighed.
“Harry. I don’t understand. Have you looked at you? It’s not just the Boy Who Lived crap. You are gorgeous. Whoever she is, why don’t you just ask her out?” Ron felt like hell, but he couldn’t help offer his best friend the right advice.
“No, Gin, you don’t understand. I can’t ask her out, because.. because he would completely freak out.” Harry flushed, but bravely looked Ron in the eye.
Fuck. Holy fucking hell. Harry is gay and I’m pushing him into another bloke’s arms? “He?” he managed to squeak.
“Yes, ‘he’,” Harry heaved a huge sigh and crossed the room to Ron’s side, “and, ok, to totally throw myself on your mercy, Gin. The reason I said ‘not you’? The reason you are the last girl in the world I should kiss, and that is not an insult, is because you are the only girl in the world who I almost could kiss.” Harry reached up and stroked the freckled face before him. “Because sometimes you look just like him. Like Ron.”
“Like Ron,” breathed Ron.
“Yeah, that’s my big secret, Gin. God, I needed to tell someone.” And he whirled away again and strode around the room. “There I said it. I am crazy about him. He’s stunning. Not just gorgeous; he’s wonderful. He’s so passionate. He cares so much about things, about people. About you, his family, about Hermione. Hell, about me. He cares so much about me. He’d do anything for me. He’d sacrifice his life for me, I’ve seen him do it since he was twelve years old. I don’t want him to give his life for me, I want him to give himself to me.”
Oh god, what do I do? What do I say? This is incredible. It’s me. It’s me. He wants me. Harry wants me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What do I do?
Harry hadn’t finished. “I’m sorry to drop this on you, Gin, but what am I going to do? I’m with him all day. Every lesson, every meal, Quidditch practise, homework. He sleeps in the next bed. All last summer, in his room at the Burrow. How did he not notice? Just the two of us in that room every night. How did he not hear my heart leaping through my chest?”
Ron’s own chest felt tight. No it didn’t, his fucking t-shirt felt tight. What was the time? Was he changing back?
“I’m closer to him than anyone in the world. I know we connect. How many times a day does he catch my eye and smile about something? He is my first, best, closest friend, and I won’t lose that, I can’t, even if it breaks my heart. It has to be enough. It has to be enough.”
“No it doesn’t,” said Ron and he stepped forward, cupped Harry’s firmly face in both hands and, as he felt his bones start to crack and shudder, he pressed his desperate lips to Harry’s. Harry jumped but closed his eyes. As he tried to pull back he felt Ginny somehow loom over him and tip his head back. Ginny’s small fingers slipped back into his hair; but no, her hands were still touching his face. He opened his eyes.
“Ron?” he gasped.
Luckily Ginny’s t-shirt and skirt had been loose and stretchy, but Ron was eight inches taller than his sister and they were now short and tight. He stood in front of Harry, holding his face tenderly and gazing down with a look of absolute terror in his eyes. Harry’s eyes blazed and Ron took a step back.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ron?” shouted Harry, following him, “Are you abso-fucking-lutely certifiable? Was that Polyjuice? Pretending to be your own sister?”
Ron kept retreating. “Oh god, Harry, I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
“Stupid? Were you trying to get your sister laid? Are you insane? Fuck, how could you just.. just listen to me like that?”
Ron had backed into his bed and stopped and Harry was right back in his face. “No, no, not laid. It wasn’t about Ginny. It was me. For me.”
“What was for you? That doesn’t make any sense. You wanted me to kiss Ginny – why would you do that, you stupid sod?”
Ron tried to touch Harry, but Harry angrily batted his hand away. “I wanted you to kiss me, Harry. Me. I never thought you’d want to, but maybe you’d kiss Ginny. I thought you were straight. I wanted you to kiss me, Harry.”
Harry went very still. He licked his lips. “You?” he whispered.
“All I ever wanted, Harry. To just touch your face, and you’d look at me and want me. Just to kiss you. Once. Just once.” As he spoke, he lifted his hand and ghosted it down Harry’s face; then he closed his eyes and bent down and finally captured the parted lips before him.
Harry’s lips parted further, and Ron’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Harry groaned. His eyes fluttered closed and he raised his hands to grab a double fistful of Ron’s shirt and hold him close. Ron’s arms went round him and his hands settled in the small of Harry’s back, pulling him closer still. For several minutes they just stood and kissed, hungrily. Tongues running over smooth lips and sharp teeth. Hands stroking backs. No soft curves, just jutting shoulder blades and straining muscles.
Finally their lips broke apart, sucking in great gasps of air. Harry let his forehead fall forward onto Ron’s shoulder. “You know I’ve gone through some creepy stuff, Ron,” he muttered, “but when I felt Ginny grow a foot and bend me backwards, that was really scary. Let’s hope Voldemort never gets hold of some Polyjuice.” Harry opened his eyes. “Actually, this is even scarier – you do not look good in a mini-skirt. Let’s get those things off of you, ok?”
Ron swallowed. “Ok.” He grabbed the collar of Ginny’s t-shirt, and pulled it over his head. Then he undid the straining button on her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Harry spluttered. Ron looked down. He’d forgotten he was wearing Ginny’s knickers. They were pink. Great. “Look, nothing else can embarrass me tonight, mate,” he said and grabbed Harry by the front of his pyjama jacket and pulled him backwards onto the bed.
They landed in a sniggering heap, but Ron’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Harry’s weight settle on top of him, and Harry’s cock press into his hip. Harry fell silent too, and their eyes met and locked.
“So,” Harry’s voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “This is it, huh?”
“Yeah, if you want.” He reached up and ran his hand through Harry’s hair, down his neck and over his chest, stopping at the first button of his pyjamas. “Me too, Harry,” he whispered, undoing the buttons, one by one, “I’m crazy about you, too.” He pushed the jacket down off of Harry’s shoulders, and Harry dragged it off and threw it to the floor. Their bare chests touched. Harry reared back and bit his lip, his eyes flickering over Ron’s face, and down over his body. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all year, Harry.” His hands glided along Harry’s collarbones, met and dragged a path down his chest. “I’ve loved being Quidditch captain this term, you know.” Harry looked puzzled. “Any morning I like I get to rip back your covers and drag you out of bed.” He ran his hands back up over the smooth muscles of Harry’s chest, brushing his nipples, which stiffened under his fingers. “Any time I want to see you all hot and sweaty, I just say the magic words ‘Quidditch practise’, and there you are, in your Quidditch uniform,” hypnotised by Ron’s words and fingers, Harry groaned and started thrusting against Ron’s hip.
Blimey Weasley, keep talking “God you look good in that uniform,” one hand still played with Harry’s nipple, the other slipped around and down, under Harry’s waistband, to cup his arse and encourage the wonderful rhythm, the wonderful feeling of Harry’s cock, hot even through his pyjamas, moving against him, “and when you are on a broomstick, fuck. I love watching you fly, Harry. You come alive when you fly.” Desperate not to disturb that rhythm for too long, but more desperate to feel Harry’s skin against his, he tried to push Harry’s pyjama bottoms down, over his slim hips. Harry sat up and kicked them away impatiently, then groaned and dragged the ridiculous pink knickers down Ron’s long, freckled legs.
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he suddenly went very still, his eyes downcast. “It’s ok, Harry,” Ron whispered, “come here.” Harry raised his head and Ron actually felt the path of his eyes as they ran up his naked body. Their eyes met again and Harry let out a long shuddering breath. Crawling back up over him, Harry bit his lip and lowered his body onto Ron’s. At the last moment, Ron moved his hips slightly and their erections touched. They both gasped and Ron clutched at Harry’s hips to stop him pulling away. Ron laughed shakily, “’t’s ok, Harry, ‘t’s ok.”
“Oh Ron,” Harry groaned, “this, I, are you sure? I’ve dreamed about this, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’d, we’d.”
“I want this, Harry, I really do. I want you.” Ron bucked his hips, and their cocks slid against each other. “Yes, Harry, that’s good, isn’t it. I love you hot and sweaty after Quidditch, I want you hot and sweaty now,” he pulled Harry’s body close against his, “I bet you look incredible after sex,” Harry’s eyes glazed over as he dropped his face against Ron’s chest and started thrusting hard. Ron’s voice trailed off and his eyes closed. Their legs tangled together and Ron clutched at Harry’s back and arse as the smaller boy moved and rubbed against him.
For each of them, this was a year’s wanking fantasies come true, and Ron found he had no more words as Harry moaned and muttered and ground against his aching cock. “Oh, Ron, so close, please, Ron.”
Ron lifted his head and grabbing Harry’s hair roughly, pulled his face up and claimed his mouth, swallowing Harry’s words and his cry as he thrust harder and faster and suddenly froze, trembling and shaking, and Ron felt something hot and wet spurt between their bodies. Harry sagged against him and ducked his face, flushing.
“Fuck, Harry, you did. Look at me, Harry. That was brilliant.” Harry looked up and almost met his eyes. “You do. You look fucking incredible.”
Harry laughed. “That was fantastic, Ron.” He bit his lip. “Can I, um,” he gestured vaguely, “help you out there?”
Sliding off of Ron, and revealing the mess sticking their bodies together, Harry took a deep breath and reached for Ron’s erection.
Ron gasped and threw back his head as Harry’s slim fingers closed around his shaft. He’d come upstairs to try and get one kiss, just to be able to remember the feeling of Harry’s lips on his, and now Harry’s hand was sliding up and down his cock It was slightly clumsy, and it wasn’t the rhythm he usually liked, but it was Harry’s hand and he knew he wouldn’t take much longer. Then Harry bent down and ran his tongue over Ron’s nipple and a bolt of lightning seemed to run through Ron’s body, straight down to his cock, which thrust up through Harry’s fingers and coated them with streams of milky fluid.
******
The weak winter sunshine finally struggled between the curtains and over the two boys, still tangled together in Ron’s bed. Ron cracked one eye and squinted down at the head nestled on his shoulder. Black messy hair everywhere. His eyes flew open. Harry.
“Harry,” he whispered. Harry stirred and stretched. His legs slid over Ron’s and his nails ran over Ron’s stomach as he flexed his fingers. Ron grunted.
“Morning, Ron,” Harry muttered, propping himself up one an elbow to look down at his friend.
Ron bit his lip nervously, cleared his throat and managed “Morning. Um.. are we ok, Harry?”
Harry’s eyebrows flew up under his fringe. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Well, I’ve never woken up naked with anyone before. Especially someone I tried to seduce using Polyjuice.” Ron flushed.
Harry leant down and licked Ron’s ear. “I’ve always wanted to do that when you blush. It’s as hot as I expected! Look, I said I love you, you idiot. Admittedly I said it to Ginny, not to you, but that isn’t my fault. As far as I’m concerned we are so far beyond ok, that ok has to contact us by owl-post, ok?” He leaned down again and kissed Ron firmly.
Ron laughed.
“In fact,” mused Harry, “the only thing bothering me is where you got the Polyjuice from.”
“Um. Hermione.” Ron admitted, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.
“Fuck. What did you tell her? How did you convince her you needed Polyjuice?” Harry sounded deeply impressed.
“Oh no, Harry,” Ron’s smile was positively feral, “our dear, proper Head Girl came to me last night, with a vial of Polyjuice that she had brewed for me. Since she decided, a month ago, that she was going to help me get a kiss from you.” Harry’s jaw dropped with an almost audible clang. “She pinched Ginny’s hair and her clothes. It was entirely her plan.”
“You know that actually makes sense,” Harry shook his head, “the whole thing was way to devious for you, Ron. But how dare she do that – is she insane? You, me, Ginny – we’re supposed to be, like, her three favourite people in the world. How could she set us all up like that? I am going to kill her! Come on, get up.”
Harry leapt out of bed and went to rummage in his trunk for something clean to wear. Ron lay back and watched him. Harry turned and raised an eyebrow. “You can perv later, Ron. Right now we have to have a few words with Miss Granger. Showers, now!” With a sigh, Ron swung his legs out of bed and reached for his dressing gown. Slipping it on, he picked up his toothbrush and trudged out to the boys’ bathroom.
******
They came down the stairs into the common room, to see Hermione and Ginny sitting in front of the fire, conversing in low voices. Harry cleared his throat. Both girls jumped and looked round. Hermione got to her feet.
“Ron?” she said. “You, um, didn’t come back downstairs last night. I waited. Is everything ok?”
“Look, Harry is a bit angry,” he started, but Harry pushed past him.
“Ginny,” he said, “you will not believe what our so-called friend did last night. She found out that Ron has, um, feelings for me. So, did she advise him to tell me how he felt? Did she try and sound me out about it? No, she stole one of your hairs and helped Ron Polyjuice himself into you. She sent him up to my bed, asking for a kiss, hoping for heaven knows what, because apparently I am so desperate for a snog I will take advantage of the little sister of the man I love.”
“Yes!” hissed Hermione, and she turned to Ginny and they high-fived and hugged each other.
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “What?” he shouted, “Ginny, did you.. did you know what…what?”
“Look, Ron, calm down, it’s ok,” she said.
“It’s ok?” croaked Harry.
“It was both of us, ok? Hermione told you the truth last night, Ron. She knows you very well, and she’s been watching you watching Harry. She came to me and asked me what I thought she should do. Well, I am an expert Harry-watcher, and though Hermione couldn’t see it, I thought he had feelings for you, too.
“We decided we couldn’t approach Harry with it, as he’d deny everything, he’s too used to keeping his feelings to himself. But we thought Ron’d admit it if Hermione asked him. But how to get Ron to do anything about it? Well, I said, ‘Harry won’t admit it if I ask him, how about if I try and kiss him? Maybe he’ll be spooked into admitting it?’ and she said ‘How about if we Polyjuice Ron into you and send him up to Harry to try and get a kiss? We won’t tell him it’s to get Harry to admit how he feels, just that it’s a chance to kiss him’!”
Harry glared at Ron. “How stupid were you, to fall for that? What if I’d happily snogged ‘Ginny’?”
Hermione reached out and shushed him. “No, we really didn’t think you would. Anyway, I tampered with the Polyjuice, so it’d only last for half an hour. How much trouble could Ron get into in thirty minutes? And, well, he didn’t come back down, so you must have seen him transform back, and you haven’t killed each other.” She bit her lip, and smiled up at them.
“So, did it work?” Ginny squealed.
“Work? Well, I wouldn’t kiss you, and I told you why – because I’m in love with your brother. And then you kissed me, and the Polyjuice wore off, and when I opened my eyes it was Ron, and I completely freaked out, but he said he loved me, too, and, well, we’re together. But don’t think we forgive either of you!”
“Wow,” breathed Ginny, “so Ron, for your first kiss you were dressed in women’s clothes?”
Ron shook his head. “Shit, I’m glad you two are on our side.” And he took Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him fiercely.
Title: Walk on the Wild Side
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for the Harry/Weasley Slash FQF :
One of the Weasley boys has the misfortune to fall in love with straight as a Broomstick Harry Potter. Willing to take what he can get he Polyjuices into his younger sister Ginny and sets out to seduce the boy who lived. To his credit, Harry tries to let her down gently when he confesses to her that he not only prefers boys over girls but also one of Ginny's brothers over her.
Warnings: This story contains slash – more to the point it contains my first attempt at writing slash, so if it isn’t clear whose cock is throbbing, well, I need some more adjectives ! It also contains teeth cleaning, which is non-canon, I know, but I feel it should figure more often in fanon.
I was reading ‘As You Like It’, trying to get a good cross-dressing quote for a title. My ‘Current Music’ was my ‘as recommended by Daniel Radcliffe’ playlist – and I realised I was listening to the perfect lyrics!
******
“Plucked her eyebrows on the way
shaved her leg and then he was a she
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side”
Walk On The Wild Side : Lou Reed
It was nearly midnight when a sopping wet Ron Weasley climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. The room was otherwise deserted and he dripped over to a couch in front of the dwindling fire and slumped despondently into it. Dropping his broom on the floor and his head onto the cushions, he closed his eyes and sighed. Well, he was completely shattered; maybe tonight he’d have a dreamless nights’ sleep.
There was a soft footstep behind him, and a towel dropped around his shoulders.
“You didn’t have to wait up, Hermione,” he murmured.
“How d’you know it was me?” she asked, a smile audible in her voice.
“Well, Ginny’d’ve thrown the towel at me if she’d waited up this late. And everyone else, except Harry, went home for Christmas.”
Hermione pulled him forwards to sit upright and started towelling his hair dry. “You are going to catch a cold, Ron. What were you doing out this late in the rain?”
“Quidditch practice,” he muttered, somewhere under the towel.
“Well, Harry and Ginny came in over an hour ago, Ron. Why did you stay out?” she tried to keep her voice light and just politely interested, but knew she sounded like she was nagging him.
“It’s our final year Hermione, and I’m Captain. This is really important to me.” He shook off the towel and her hands and emerged, blinking in the firelight, his red hair still damp, dark and spiky from the rain.
“It’s…” Hermione began, then screwed up her face and stopped. “You…”
Ron snorted. “I know you don’t care about Quidditch, Hermione. Just drop it.”
“It’s not the Quidditch. That’s not why you were outside in the rain, is it?” She tried to catch his eye, but he swung around to stare into the fire and shrugged.
“’course it’s the Quidditch, Hermione. What else would make me fly in the rain at this time of night?” His face was flushed, and he was trying to look like this was because of the heat from the dying flames.
“Harry,” she said.
Ron flushed darker and glared at the fire, which had just sunk down and couldn’t be blamed for his sudden colour. Reluctantly he turned to face Hermione. “Well, of course I’m worried about Harry. It’s only been six months since Hagrid died; Harry is still cut up about it, we’ve talked about this, Hermione.”
“I know how low Harry is feeling, and, yes we’ve talked about him all this term. But now I want to talk about you.”
“Me?” Ron look truly worried. “What have I done?”
“You watch him, Ron. All the time,” Hermione said, very gently.
“Well, of course I do. He’s my best mate and he’s lost yet another friend. I said I was worried about him. I care about him.”
“You love him.”
“What is it with girls and feelings?” Ron grimaced. “OK, he’s my best friend, I love him.”
“No, you are in love with him.”
“Oh.” Ron turned to the fire again, but now he’d gone rather pale and each freckle stood out starkly in the dying firelight. “How d’you know? Shit, Harry doesn’t know, does he?”
Hermione shook her head quickly. “No, it’s ok, just me. I know because I know you very well, Ron. I have watched you,” she sighed, “you can’t keep your eyes off of him.”
“Oh Hermione, what am I going to do? I’m with him every waking moment, and I dream about him every night. I need to stop this – it’s awful.” He turned back towards her and gazed down at her with a desperate look in his eyes. “How can I get past this?”
“Do you really want to get past it? You can’t just stop loving someone, Ron. And you can’t only love people when it’s convenient.”
“Ugh. Hermione. It’s not just inconvenient. It’s…it’s…wrong.”
“Wrong?” Hermione looked utterly furious. “How can you say that? No one can help their sexuality. Actually I don’t know how the wizard world sees gay people, but if their attitude to elves and werewolves is any…”
“No, Hermione,” Ron broke in, catching her hands, which were waving wildly in the air between them. “It’s wrong to fall in love with someone who is so, well, straight. All the girls who fall for him, well, they know that maybe they could have a chance with him. Look at how much he fancied Cho. And then last year he dated Susan, and he took Katie to the Valentine’s Ball. Even Ginny. I know she says she’s given up on him, but I know that deep down she’d still fall at his feet if he showed an interest. But not me.” He laughed, bitterly.
“I’m closer to him than anyone. I know him better than anyone. I’ve been in love with him for over a year. He slept in my room all summer and I lay there and listened to him breathing. I watched him in the moonlight and he is so beautiful. And it’s not because of all that Boy Who Lived crap, it’s because he’s Harry, and I wanted to reach out and touch him, you know? And I can touch him. He’d realise she wanted him if a girl touched him – he’d notice her. But not me. I can slap him on the back after Quidditch. I can sling my arm around his shoulders and whisper in his ear. Shit, I can wake him up by leaping onto his bed, straddling him and tickling him. But he’ll never notice me. It’s just best mate stuff, isn’t it?” he was still holding her hands, and she squeezed them tightly. “If just once I could touch his face, and he’d look at me and, well, want me. I just want to see that in his eyes. I just want to kiss him. Once. Just once.” There, he’d said it.
“Oh Ron,” she whispered. “What if…”
He pulled away. “No, Hermione. There can’t be a ‘what if’.”
“Actually there can,” she said and reached into her pocket for a vial. “This is a ‘what if’, Ron.”
He stared at the scarlet potion in the vial. “What is it?”
“It’s a ‘What if you Polyjuiced into someone who could touch his face. Someone who could kiss him’.”
“Fuck.”
“Well, if you’re really lucky,” she blushed.
“Hermione, did you just make a dirty joke?” Ron’s world was rocking on its axis tonight.
Hermione blushed deeper.
“Sod that. Hermione, did you make Polyjuice again just so I can kiss Harry?” She nodded. “Did you steal stuff from Snape again?” She nodded. “You’ve been working on this for a month?” She nodded. “And there is someone’s hair in there already?” She nodded again. “Bloody hell, Hermione. Why?”
“I want you to be happy, Ron. My original ‘what if’ when I started brewing it was ‘what if I Polyjuiced into Harry and kissed you’. But you’d know it was me, and it wouldn’t be him kissing you. I think it’s better that it’s really Harry, that you see the um…lust or whatever in Harry’s eyes, even if he doesn’t know he’s looking at you. Of course, better is a relative term. It’s only marginally better. I have more of the Polyjuice, if you’d like me to be Harry instead.” She blushed again.
“Shit Hermione.” Ron’s eyes and hair looked equally wild, as he rolled one and ran his fingers through the other. “You can’t just say that. Shit. And I don’t know how to act like a girl. I can’t giggle and simper at him – who’s in there, Lavender or someone?”
“No. It’s Ginny.”
“Ginny?” Ron squeaked.
“Well, you know Ginny well enough to play her. And she doesn’t simper. She’s sporty, athletic. She knows all about Quidditch, and she talks to Harry already. You both look a lot alike anyway. Sort of.”
“Ginny,” he murmured. “Polyjuice into my sister, go up to Harry’s room and make a pass at him.”
“You’re angry with me for interfering, aren’t you Ron?” Hermione slumped back onto the couch and twirled the vial between her fingers. “I’ve thought about this. And if you really don’t think you have a chance any other way. Well, you did say all you wanted was to kiss him ‘Once. Just once.’. I know it’s unorthodox. I just wanted to help you.”
“I’m not angry, Hermione. I’m stunned. I can’t believe anyone would go to such an effort just for me to snog Harry.” He stood up and started pacing in front of her. “D’you really think it’d work? Bugger. Am I really considering this? It could work. Ginny is so pretty, he’d be crazy to turn me down. Just one kiss. Then I leave. He’d be too embarrassed to bring it up with her, wouldn’t he? She be all ‘acting as if nothing happened’, ‘cos she wouldn’t know anything had happened.”
“So, are we doing this?” asked Hermione.
Ron turned and stood in front of her. “We’re doing this.”
Hermione reached behind the couch and pulled out a bundle of clothes. He recognised them as a skirt and top of Ginny’s. He didn’t recognise the knickers.
“What, now?” he squawked, his voice cracking like it hadn’t done in years.
“Well, Harry is alone up there. How could you do it once Neville, Seamus and Dean get back?”
“Don’t try and sound reasonable, Hermione. We are about to do something dreadful to our best friend in the world. OK, give me the potion.”
She handed over the vial and he uncorked it and sniffed it gingerly. “Well, essence of Ginny has to taste better than essence of Crabbe.” And he put it to his lips and swallowed it in one gulp. It did taste far better than he remembered from second year, but it didn’t feel any better. He held out his hands and his skin was writhing and melting and shrinking before his eyes. His whole scalp prickled as his hair burst out and cascaded down over his shoulders. It felt like he was being crushed as his bones shortened and his muscles melted away. And then it was over. He looked down, and even through the huge, damp Quidditch robes, he could definitely see breasts.
“Blimey!” he said. He looked up at Hermione. She was looking at him like he was an experiment.
“That was amazing, Ron,” she breathed. “It looked like time was going backwards, and you were just shrinking – though I don’t think your freckles even moved!” She held the bundle of clothes out to him. “Here, quickly, you’d better change.”
He started to strip off his robes, realised Hermione was watching him, stopped, blushed and said “Hermione, turn around!”
She laughed. “Why, ‘Ginny’? I’ve shared a room with you for years, I’ve seen you change a thousand times. Gosh, Ron. It’s a really good thing we did make you Ginny. You really shouldn’t undress any other girl. You’d better not look, anyway.”
“Hermione, even if I weren’t gay, I wouldn’t look at my sister’s boobs.” And rolling his eyes to the ceiling and keeping them there, he undressed and fumbled his way into the knickers, skirt and t-shirt that Hermione handed him. “OK, I have had some weird experiences in my life, but this just tops the lot. How do I look? They’re a bit too loose and comfy, shouldn’t I go for sexier?”
“They’re perfect. Let’s see you walk.”
He stood again and tried to stride around the room; it didn’t take long to get used to the reduced length of leg, but the different way his hips swung as he walked threw him off balance to start with. “It’s a good thing Ginny doesn’t wear heels,” he muttered, “my hip joints are working strangely enough as it is. How do you do this? I tell you, it’s a whole different sex.”
“OK, Ron. That’s fine, you won’t have to do that much walking up there. Now, you’re wasting time. Go!”
He turned to her and swallowed, hard. “I will. I’ll go. I’ll do it.”
She kissed him on the cheek – strange how she didn’t have to stretch up on tiptoe – and as he turned and walked up the stairs to the boys’ dorms, she sank down into an armchair and whispered ‘Oh god, I hope nothing goes wrong.”
******
Ron climbed swiftly till he stood outside the Seventh Years’ dorm. He raised his hand to knock, but then paused. Bloody hell, what do I say? he thought. Or maybe just coming to his room at midnight is obvious enough? Hell, you’re a Gryffindor. You can go on in there and pretend to be a woman and kiss him. Oh shit! He shook his head violently and clouds of stunning red hair flew around his face. He knocked.
“Yup,” came Harry’s voice from inside, and he turned the knob, opened the door and slipped inside.
Harry was lying on his bed, reading. He was wearing pyjamas and Ron felt himself blush as he looked at him. “What’s wrong, Gin? Isn’t it a bit late?”
Ron licked his lips and walked over to Harry’s bed and sat down. Not very gracefully, as he wasn’t used to the mattress being at crotch height, rather than knee height. Harry raised an eyebrow.
Ron cleared his throat. “Harry,” he said. “Harry, I need to ask you something. I, um, know I used to make a fool of myself over you, but I was only eleven, and I have grown up a lot since then. I really have moved on, and you know I have dated other, uh, boys.” Harry sat up and held out one hand, trying to stop what was coming. “But I have always wondered what it would have been like. I will always wonder. What it would be like. To kiss you. Just once.” He put one trembling hand on Harry’s cheek. He ran his thumb over the lips that had parted to speak, and he leaned forward to claim them.
“No!” said Harry, and jerked away, “I can’t.”
Ron sat back and blinked. OK, that was embarrassing, but I guess it was embarrassing for Ginny. “Why not, Harry? Just one kiss. It doesn’t have to mean anything. And I swear I’ll never mention it again.” Hey, that was clever. That would cover him.
“Yes, you can,” he said out loud, and he knelt up on the bed and leant over Harry. There was a definite hint of panic in those green eyes, and he saw Harry swallow, nervously. “Just one kiss, Harry,” he tried to sound seductive, “just one. I won’t tell anyone.” He put one hand on Harry’s shoulder, and the other once more stroked the face that had haunted his dreams. “Just close your eyes, and kiss me… kiss me…” He slipped his hand into the messy black hair and, tangling his fingers in the strands, pulled Harry closer. So close. Their lips were going to touch. Ron’s lips opened to taste Harry’s. Harry’s opened to gasp “No!” and he twisted away and leapt off of the bed.
“Bugger!” muttered Ron. It’s a good thing Ginny swears, too. He couldn’t turn and look at Harry. Now what? He’d made a fool of himself. Shit, I’ve made a fool of Ginny. She’ll kill me.
“Gin,” said Harry, tentatively, “look at me.” Ron rolled his eyes and turned to face his best friend. “Look, Gin, I don’t want to embarrass you like this. You must think I’m a real bastard. But, well, the thing is. Oh god. I guess I owe you the truth, huh?”
Oh, shit “No, Harry, it’s entirely my fault. What must you think of me? Please, we’ll just never, ever mention it again. Ever.” Ron stood and tried to move towards the door.
“It’s not you, really.”
“Oh, please,” even Ron wasn’t buying that one, “‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Who actually says that?”
“It’s not you or me – it’s someone else. I’m in love with someone else.” Harry looked flustered. “I mean, I’m not with someone else, but I want to be. And even though I’m not, so I could kiss you - I mean, no one would say I couldn’t - but I can’t. Not you.”
“What d’you mean ‘not me’?” Ron couldn’t believe how offended he felt on his poor sister’s behalf. Any bloke would be mad to pass up such a great girl.
“Oh shit,” muttered Harry, “look I’m really bad at this stuff. Ask either of the two girls I made a complete prat of myself with, ok?” He ran his hands through his hair and paces the room, nervously. “Not Cho, because she kissed me and then just cried on me. But Susan, yeah, ask Susan. Four dates. Then she tried to kiss me, and I ducked and nearly broke her nose with my forehead.”
“But you said…”
“Well, I couldn’t tell anyone how awful it was. At least Katie was just a ‘Quidditch date’. No relationship implied, just a good evening. Well, she knew how I felt about….” Harry sighed.
“Harry. I don’t understand. Have you looked at you? It’s not just the Boy Who Lived crap. You are gorgeous. Whoever she is, why don’t you just ask her out?” Ron felt like hell, but he couldn’t help offer his best friend the right advice.
“No, Gin, you don’t understand. I can’t ask her out, because.. because he would completely freak out.” Harry flushed, but bravely looked Ron in the eye.
Fuck. Holy fucking hell. Harry is gay and I’m pushing him into another bloke’s arms? “He?” he managed to squeak.
“Yes, ‘he’,” Harry heaved a huge sigh and crossed the room to Ron’s side, “and, ok, to totally throw myself on your mercy, Gin. The reason I said ‘not you’? The reason you are the last girl in the world I should kiss, and that is not an insult, is because you are the only girl in the world who I almost could kiss.” Harry reached up and stroked the freckled face before him. “Because sometimes you look just like him. Like Ron.”
“Like Ron,” breathed Ron.
“Yeah, that’s my big secret, Gin. God, I needed to tell someone.” And he whirled away again and strode around the room. “There I said it. I am crazy about him. He’s stunning. Not just gorgeous; he’s wonderful. He’s so passionate. He cares so much about things, about people. About you, his family, about Hermione. Hell, about me. He cares so much about me. He’d do anything for me. He’d sacrifice his life for me, I’ve seen him do it since he was twelve years old. I don’t want him to give his life for me, I want him to give himself to me.”
Oh god, what do I do? What do I say? This is incredible. It’s me. It’s me. He wants me. Harry wants me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What do I do?
Harry hadn’t finished. “I’m sorry to drop this on you, Gin, but what am I going to do? I’m with him all day. Every lesson, every meal, Quidditch practise, homework. He sleeps in the next bed. All last summer, in his room at the Burrow. How did he not notice? Just the two of us in that room every night. How did he not hear my heart leaping through my chest?”
Ron’s own chest felt tight. No it didn’t, his fucking t-shirt felt tight. What was the time? Was he changing back?
“I’m closer to him than anyone in the world. I know we connect. How many times a day does he catch my eye and smile about something? He is my first, best, closest friend, and I won’t lose that, I can’t, even if it breaks my heart. It has to be enough. It has to be enough.”
“No it doesn’t,” said Ron and he stepped forward, cupped Harry’s firmly face in both hands and, as he felt his bones start to crack and shudder, he pressed his desperate lips to Harry’s. Harry jumped but closed his eyes. As he tried to pull back he felt Ginny somehow loom over him and tip his head back. Ginny’s small fingers slipped back into his hair; but no, her hands were still touching his face. He opened his eyes.
“Ron?” he gasped.
Luckily Ginny’s t-shirt and skirt had been loose and stretchy, but Ron was eight inches taller than his sister and they were now short and tight. He stood in front of Harry, holding his face tenderly and gazing down with a look of absolute terror in his eyes. Harry’s eyes blazed and Ron took a step back.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ron?” shouted Harry, following him, “Are you abso-fucking-lutely certifiable? Was that Polyjuice? Pretending to be your own sister?”
Ron kept retreating. “Oh god, Harry, I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
“Stupid? Were you trying to get your sister laid? Are you insane? Fuck, how could you just.. just listen to me like that?”
Ron had backed into his bed and stopped and Harry was right back in his face. “No, no, not laid. It wasn’t about Ginny. It was me. For me.”
“What was for you? That doesn’t make any sense. You wanted me to kiss Ginny – why would you do that, you stupid sod?”
Ron tried to touch Harry, but Harry angrily batted his hand away. “I wanted you to kiss me, Harry. Me. I never thought you’d want to, but maybe you’d kiss Ginny. I thought you were straight. I wanted you to kiss me, Harry.”
Harry went very still. He licked his lips. “You?” he whispered.
“All I ever wanted, Harry. To just touch your face, and you’d look at me and want me. Just to kiss you. Once. Just once.” As he spoke, he lifted his hand and ghosted it down Harry’s face; then he closed his eyes and bent down and finally captured the parted lips before him.
Harry’s lips parted further, and Ron’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Harry groaned. His eyes fluttered closed and he raised his hands to grab a double fistful of Ron’s shirt and hold him close. Ron’s arms went round him and his hands settled in the small of Harry’s back, pulling him closer still. For several minutes they just stood and kissed, hungrily. Tongues running over smooth lips and sharp teeth. Hands stroking backs. No soft curves, just jutting shoulder blades and straining muscles.
Finally their lips broke apart, sucking in great gasps of air. Harry let his forehead fall forward onto Ron’s shoulder. “You know I’ve gone through some creepy stuff, Ron,” he muttered, “but when I felt Ginny grow a foot and bend me backwards, that was really scary. Let’s hope Voldemort never gets hold of some Polyjuice.” Harry opened his eyes. “Actually, this is even scarier – you do not look good in a mini-skirt. Let’s get those things off of you, ok?”
Ron swallowed. “Ok.” He grabbed the collar of Ginny’s t-shirt, and pulled it over his head. Then he undid the straining button on her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Harry spluttered. Ron looked down. He’d forgotten he was wearing Ginny’s knickers. They were pink. Great. “Look, nothing else can embarrass me tonight, mate,” he said and grabbed Harry by the front of his pyjama jacket and pulled him backwards onto the bed.
They landed in a sniggering heap, but Ron’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Harry’s weight settle on top of him, and Harry’s cock press into his hip. Harry fell silent too, and their eyes met and locked.
“So,” Harry’s voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “This is it, huh?”
“Yeah, if you want.” He reached up and ran his hand through Harry’s hair, down his neck and over his chest, stopping at the first button of his pyjamas. “Me too, Harry,” he whispered, undoing the buttons, one by one, “I’m crazy about you, too.” He pushed the jacket down off of Harry’s shoulders, and Harry dragged it off and threw it to the floor. Their bare chests touched. Harry reared back and bit his lip, his eyes flickering over Ron’s face, and down over his body. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all year, Harry.” His hands glided along Harry’s collarbones, met and dragged a path down his chest. “I’ve loved being Quidditch captain this term, you know.” Harry looked puzzled. “Any morning I like I get to rip back your covers and drag you out of bed.” He ran his hands back up over the smooth muscles of Harry’s chest, brushing his nipples, which stiffened under his fingers. “Any time I want to see you all hot and sweaty, I just say the magic words ‘Quidditch practise’, and there you are, in your Quidditch uniform,” hypnotised by Ron’s words and fingers, Harry groaned and started thrusting against Ron’s hip.
Blimey Weasley, keep talking “God you look good in that uniform,” one hand still played with Harry’s nipple, the other slipped around and down, under Harry’s waistband, to cup his arse and encourage the wonderful rhythm, the wonderful feeling of Harry’s cock, hot even through his pyjamas, moving against him, “and when you are on a broomstick, fuck. I love watching you fly, Harry. You come alive when you fly.” Desperate not to disturb that rhythm for too long, but more desperate to feel Harry’s skin against his, he tried to push Harry’s pyjama bottoms down, over his slim hips. Harry sat up and kicked them away impatiently, then groaned and dragged the ridiculous pink knickers down Ron’s long, freckled legs.
Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he suddenly went very still, his eyes downcast. “It’s ok, Harry,” Ron whispered, “come here.” Harry raised his head and Ron actually felt the path of his eyes as they ran up his naked body. Their eyes met again and Harry let out a long shuddering breath. Crawling back up over him, Harry bit his lip and lowered his body onto Ron’s. At the last moment, Ron moved his hips slightly and their erections touched. They both gasped and Ron clutched at Harry’s hips to stop him pulling away. Ron laughed shakily, “’t’s ok, Harry, ‘t’s ok.”
“Oh Ron,” Harry groaned, “this, I, are you sure? I’ve dreamed about this, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’d, we’d.”
“I want this, Harry, I really do. I want you.” Ron bucked his hips, and their cocks slid against each other. “Yes, Harry, that’s good, isn’t it. I love you hot and sweaty after Quidditch, I want you hot and sweaty now,” he pulled Harry’s body close against his, “I bet you look incredible after sex,” Harry’s eyes glazed over as he dropped his face against Ron’s chest and started thrusting hard. Ron’s voice trailed off and his eyes closed. Their legs tangled together and Ron clutched at Harry’s back and arse as the smaller boy moved and rubbed against him.
For each of them, this was a year’s wanking fantasies come true, and Ron found he had no more words as Harry moaned and muttered and ground against his aching cock. “Oh, Ron, so close, please, Ron.”
Ron lifted his head and grabbing Harry’s hair roughly, pulled his face up and claimed his mouth, swallowing Harry’s words and his cry as he thrust harder and faster and suddenly froze, trembling and shaking, and Ron felt something hot and wet spurt between their bodies. Harry sagged against him and ducked his face, flushing.
“Fuck, Harry, you did. Look at me, Harry. That was brilliant.” Harry looked up and almost met his eyes. “You do. You look fucking incredible.”
Harry laughed. “That was fantastic, Ron.” He bit his lip. “Can I, um,” he gestured vaguely, “help you out there?”
Sliding off of Ron, and revealing the mess sticking their bodies together, Harry took a deep breath and reached for Ron’s erection.
Ron gasped and threw back his head as Harry’s slim fingers closed around his shaft. He’d come upstairs to try and get one kiss, just to be able to remember the feeling of Harry’s lips on his, and now Harry’s hand was sliding up and down his cock It was slightly clumsy, and it wasn’t the rhythm he usually liked, but it was Harry’s hand and he knew he wouldn’t take much longer. Then Harry bent down and ran his tongue over Ron’s nipple and a bolt of lightning seemed to run through Ron’s body, straight down to his cock, which thrust up through Harry’s fingers and coated them with streams of milky fluid.
******
The weak winter sunshine finally struggled between the curtains and over the two boys, still tangled together in Ron’s bed. Ron cracked one eye and squinted down at the head nestled on his shoulder. Black messy hair everywhere. His eyes flew open. Harry.
“Harry,” he whispered. Harry stirred and stretched. His legs slid over Ron’s and his nails ran over Ron’s stomach as he flexed his fingers. Ron grunted.
“Morning, Ron,” Harry muttered, propping himself up one an elbow to look down at his friend.
Ron bit his lip nervously, cleared his throat and managed “Morning. Um.. are we ok, Harry?”
Harry’s eyebrows flew up under his fringe. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Well, I’ve never woken up naked with anyone before. Especially someone I tried to seduce using Polyjuice.” Ron flushed.
Harry leant down and licked Ron’s ear. “I’ve always wanted to do that when you blush. It’s as hot as I expected! Look, I said I love you, you idiot. Admittedly I said it to Ginny, not to you, but that isn’t my fault. As far as I’m concerned we are so far beyond ok, that ok has to contact us by owl-post, ok?” He leaned down again and kissed Ron firmly.
Ron laughed.
“In fact,” mused Harry, “the only thing bothering me is where you got the Polyjuice from.”
“Um. Hermione.” Ron admitted, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.
“Fuck. What did you tell her? How did you convince her you needed Polyjuice?” Harry sounded deeply impressed.
“Oh no, Harry,” Ron’s smile was positively feral, “our dear, proper Head Girl came to me last night, with a vial of Polyjuice that she had brewed for me. Since she decided, a month ago, that she was going to help me get a kiss from you.” Harry’s jaw dropped with an almost audible clang. “She pinched Ginny’s hair and her clothes. It was entirely her plan.”
“You know that actually makes sense,” Harry shook his head, “the whole thing was way to devious for you, Ron. But how dare she do that – is she insane? You, me, Ginny – we’re supposed to be, like, her three favourite people in the world. How could she set us all up like that? I am going to kill her! Come on, get up.”
Harry leapt out of bed and went to rummage in his trunk for something clean to wear. Ron lay back and watched him. Harry turned and raised an eyebrow. “You can perv later, Ron. Right now we have to have a few words with Miss Granger. Showers, now!” With a sigh, Ron swung his legs out of bed and reached for his dressing gown. Slipping it on, he picked up his toothbrush and trudged out to the boys’ bathroom.
******
They came down the stairs into the common room, to see Hermione and Ginny sitting in front of the fire, conversing in low voices. Harry cleared his throat. Both girls jumped and looked round. Hermione got to her feet.
“Ron?” she said. “You, um, didn’t come back downstairs last night. I waited. Is everything ok?”
“Look, Harry is a bit angry,” he started, but Harry pushed past him.
“Ginny,” he said, “you will not believe what our so-called friend did last night. She found out that Ron has, um, feelings for me. So, did she advise him to tell me how he felt? Did she try and sound me out about it? No, she stole one of your hairs and helped Ron Polyjuice himself into you. She sent him up to my bed, asking for a kiss, hoping for heaven knows what, because apparently I am so desperate for a snog I will take advantage of the little sister of the man I love.”
“Yes!” hissed Hermione, and she turned to Ginny and they high-fived and hugged each other.
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “What?” he shouted, “Ginny, did you.. did you know what…what?”
“Look, Ron, calm down, it’s ok,” she said.
“It’s ok?” croaked Harry.
“It was both of us, ok? Hermione told you the truth last night, Ron. She knows you very well, and she’s been watching you watching Harry. She came to me and asked me what I thought she should do. Well, I am an expert Harry-watcher, and though Hermione couldn’t see it, I thought he had feelings for you, too.
“We decided we couldn’t approach Harry with it, as he’d deny everything, he’s too used to keeping his feelings to himself. But we thought Ron’d admit it if Hermione asked him. But how to get Ron to do anything about it? Well, I said, ‘Harry won’t admit it if I ask him, how about if I try and kiss him? Maybe he’ll be spooked into admitting it?’ and she said ‘How about if we Polyjuice Ron into you and send him up to Harry to try and get a kiss? We won’t tell him it’s to get Harry to admit how he feels, just that it’s a chance to kiss him’!”
Harry glared at Ron. “How stupid were you, to fall for that? What if I’d happily snogged ‘Ginny’?”
Hermione reached out and shushed him. “No, we really didn’t think you would. Anyway, I tampered with the Polyjuice, so it’d only last for half an hour. How much trouble could Ron get into in thirty minutes? And, well, he didn’t come back down, so you must have seen him transform back, and you haven’t killed each other.” She bit her lip, and smiled up at them.
“So, did it work?” Ginny squealed.
“Work? Well, I wouldn’t kiss you, and I told you why – because I’m in love with your brother. And then you kissed me, and the Polyjuice wore off, and when I opened my eyes it was Ron, and I completely freaked out, but he said he loved me, too, and, well, we’re together. But don’t think we forgive either of you!”
“Wow,” breathed Ginny, “so Ron, for your first kiss you were dressed in women’s clothes?”
Ron shook his head. “Shit, I’m glad you two are on our side.” And he took Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him fiercely.
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