Is This Desire?

itd








Ron lay slumped on the grass, staring up at the stars. Did
anything ever go right for him? Was it really that impossible to have something
good happen for a change? For those few moments he had managed to forget
everything else in the world. There was only Malfoy, and the damp grass
underneath them. Ron hadn't been the only person involved in that kiss. Malfoy
was all over him. So what was his problem?

The Dark Mark. Ron hadn't planned on going for it.
There was just something about that black scar against Malfoy's perfectly white
skin that triggered something in Ron. He felt like he had to taste it, that
smooth metallic skin, and to feel the way Draco shivered under Ron's persistent
kisses. For God's sake, the boy had been practically shaking with passion. And
he hadn't been alone. Ron had never felt tway way before, so out of control,
and so intensely wanting Malfoy. Ron shuddered
remembering Malfoy's hands playing in his hair, touching his body. It had been
too much. He couldn't be blamed for doing stupid things. He had wanted Malfoy
for such a long time now, to taste those beautiful pink lips; he wanted to feel
his warm breath against his skin.

So, what was it? What did this all mean? Malfoy was a Death Eater. He was a
member of an elite (or semi-elite) group of dark wizards probably programmed to
seek and destroy Harry, and Ron was practically shagging him on Hogwarts' front
lawn. Normally if he had seen anything resembling the Dark Mark burned into
Malfoy's flesh, he would have run straight to Harry and Hermione. That would
have been the big project for the year: how do we defeat Death-Eater-Malfoy?
But, all of that was impossible; Hermione and Harry would ask too many
questions, and Ron wasn't good at lying.

He'd have to just bottle it up. But Hermione had already seen him flee the
confines of the cozy Gryffindor tower to go flying down the castle staircase
like some kind of lunatic. Ron grumbled and threw his arms skyward in
frustration. This was not his day. And he still had to go back to his dorm to
face not only Hermione, the one who wanted to confess her undying love for Ron,
but also to Harry. His best friend, and the boy he'd just made a pass at.

This was one of the rare times he ed Ped Percy was still around. Sometimes,
when Ron was fighting with Harry, Percy let him sleep in his dorm. There was an
extra bed because of the small class size of Percy's year. He could possibly go
up to Fred and George's room, one of them would share a bed, but it would
definitely warrant a borage of questions in the
morning. And not to mention, Ron hadn't exactly... calmed down yet.

No, there was no way around it. He had to go back to Gryffindor
Tower and face Hermione and Harry.
He'd have to blush, yawn, mumble about how incredibly tired he was, and attempt
to go to bed. He pushed himself off the lawn and with a last look for Malfoy,
began to walk towards the castle.

Ron grumbled to himself as he walked the large staircase, he moaned as he
whispered, "pig snout," to the painting of the Fat Lady, he sighed as
he ascended the cold stairs to the tower, and gave a last tortured grumble as he
pulled off his shoes and settled into his four poster. Wait a minute. He hadn't
run into anybody. He was safe at last. What fabulous-

"Ron?" Shit. Apparently Harry wasn't asleep.

"Ya?" Ron asked warily.

"Where'd you go?"

"Just a walk," Ron replied quickly. "Go to bed."

"But, er... are you okay? I mean, do you wanna talk?" Harry said.

"No. I just want to go to bed. Goodnight."

"Night," Harry replied sound genuinely disappointed

***

Ron woke late the next morning and found that Harry, Neville, Dean and
Seamus had left without even waking him. Ron threw on his clothes, ran his
fingers through his hair and ran down the halls to Potions. Of course it had to
be today, of all days. And of course he had to see Draco there first thing.
He'd have to avoid the boy at all costs.

Ron took a deep breath and turned the knob.

"Glad you could join us, Weasley," Snape said. "Twenty points
from Gryffindor. Now sit, Mister Weasley." Ron glanced to his normal seat,
but found Hermione had already taken his place. Apparently if you snooze,
you really do lose, Ron thought. Oh well. He'd have to find another seat,
probably next to Neville again. Only that seat was taken too. In fact every
seat was taken. Except for-

"Care to join me?" Malfoy glanced up and asked Ron. He had a
horrible smirk on his face, and Ron could feel the anger rising to the tips of
his ears Of all the horrible luck, the only available
seat had to be next to Draco Malfoy. Ron stared for a moment at the
stool next to Malfoy. He'd probably cursed it before he had arrived, and once
Ron sat down, huge spiders would come crawling from it. Ron gave a shudder and
decided he was just going to have to suck it up and sit down. Ron wondered
where Crabbe and Goyle were, but thought more about his own pain and suffering
as he ever so slowly sat down. He was okay, so far. But just to be safe, Ron
scooted the stool far away from Malfoy.

"Weasley," Malfoy whispered from the side of his mouth. Ron didn't
respond for a multitude of reasons. Specifically Snape.
The man could hear like Professor Moody could see. "I'm talking to you,
Weasel," Draco whispered again as he scooted his own stool closer to
Ron's.

"Go away, ferret face," Ron whispered back, attempting to look
incessantly interested in whatever Snape was saying. Malfoy scooted closer in
response. The two boys were so close now that their knees were banging under
the table. Ron swallowed. Why was this turning him on?

"You know," Malfoy whispered from the corner of his mouth,
"we really didn't get to finish what we started last night."

Ron swallowed again. Was it hot in here? It felt hot. Ron needed water, or a
bucket of ice. He could not get seduced by Malfoy in the middle of
Potions. Ron looked over to the blond, who seemed to be absolutely riveted by
whatever Snape was lecturing on. Ron could swear he saw a smirk creeping onto
those perfect pink lips, but he wouldn't let that affect him. He attempted to
scoot his stool further but realized, as he bashed his thigh against the desk's
wooden frame, that he was cornered.

Malfoy's thigh was pressed firmly against his own, sending chills up his
spine as Malfoy jiggled his leg. Slowly the Slytherin's leg bobbed, up and
down, making Ron squirm from the foreign and
intentionally slow contact. Ron could no longer hear Snape's monotone voice; in
fact the only sounds reverberating through his skull were the sweep of clothed
thighs brushing together, and his own increasingly loud heartbeat. He tried in
vain to look unmoved by the situation. He even tried to think of disturbing
images: Neville dancing naked on a table, singing "I'm ttlettle Tea
Pot." But suddenly that image was shoved violently from his mind.

Malfoy's hand was steadily resting on his thigh.

Ron gasped audibly at the warm hand, whose thumb was now gently rubbing his
inner thigh. Apparently Snape had heard Ron's sharp intake of breath, because
he was now blatantly glaring at Ron. Draco drew his hand quickly back as Snape
approached their desk, and Ron tried to catch his breath.

"Weasley," Snape snapped. "Would you care to tell me what a
Peledopholice is?"

Shit. He looked around to Harry's desk, but apparently he hadn't been
paying attention to Snape's fascinating lecture either.

"Well," Ron began uneasily, his face still flushed. "A uhm, paladocolick-"

"Peleopholice, Weasley."

"Right. It's a type of head lice, that-er, is
white, and it uh," Ron stammered. Snape looked like smoke was going to come shooting out of his ears. His black eyes were glittering with malice. Something had to be done.

Apparently Malfoy agreed, because before Ron could repair the situation the
Slytherin shoved his hand under the table, in Ron's lap, and grabbed in between
his legs. Ron gasped, his eyes grew wide and he shot out of his stool. Malfoy
turned to the terrified, and excessively turned-on
redhead, smirking as Ron panicked and attempted to place his Potions book in
front of himself.

The entire class was staring at him as he held a book over his hard-on. This
could not have been anymore embarrassing.

"I don't feel well," he choked as he ran straight out the door.
His face was burning, and the tips of his earst lit like they had been lit them
on fire. It was safe to say that Ron was mortified, he felt as though he was
going to be violently ill. He'd never experienced that much embarrassment in
one class, and he wasn't looking foreword to a repeat performance. It was high
time for Ron to take a day off.

Ron's arms and legs flailed helplessly as he ran down the empty corridors.
He had to get away from all of this. In the distance he thought he heard
someone calling his name, but decided to ignore it. It had to be Harry, but Ron
really didn't feel like talking right now, so he picked up the pace.

"Weasley!" Ron needed to run faster. But
he was feeling winded. That whole Malfoy thing had already left him with a lack
of breath, and running at full speed didn't exactly help the situation. And
come to think of it, Harry wouldn't call Ron "Weasley." As a matter
of fact, that voice sounded distinctly like Malfoy's.

"Wait up, Weasel," he called, sounding nearly as out of breath as
Ron. Sadly, there was no possible way Ron could run any faster. And besides,
running away from a Malfoy was disgraceful. He came to a halt, and slowly
turned around. There, making wan want to burst into mad fits of laughter, was an obviously conflicted Malfoy in a half run,
half walk, pink in the face, motioning for Ron to wait. Ron wondered whether he
just run out of the classroom to taunt him, or had
Snape sent him?

"What?" Ron asked breathlessly, and
rather nervously (after all, the smaller boy had just grabbed Ron's
package.)

"You forgot something," Malfoy replied bluntly. Ron
quirked an eyebrow. He hadn't forgotten anything.

"Wha-" Malfoy sprang upon him with full force as his pink lips
collided against Ron's already-open mouth. Ron could think of nothing better to
do than drop the potions book he was still using to cover himself, only to find
Malfoy equally excited as he pushed hard against Ron.

Malfoy grabbed Ron's hair forcefully and shoved his leg in between Ron's.
Ron moaned into Malfoy's mouth, and moved his own hands into the blonde's
sleek, smooth hair, pulling so hard that strands of it were coming out into his
hands. Malfoy moaned louder.

"Wait," Malfoy said trying to catch his breath. "Come to my
dorm." Ron was conflicted for about half a second before giving in.
"Okay."

The two walked in an uncomfortable silence towards Draco's dorm. It wasn't
too far from the Potions class, but gave Ron more than enough opportunity to
contemplate what he was doing.

***Draco***

Draco could hardly contain himself. His heart was beating fiercely in his
chest, he he could feel his normally cool, white skin warm and turn pink.
Things like this should not be happening. He wasn't being strong. There were
things that needed to stay secret, and a naked romp with Weasley wasn't the t wat way to keep these secrets. But, it was happening and Draco didn't want to
think about it. He only wanted to act, and feel, and fuck.

He grabbed for Weasley's hand, which was hot and sweaty, and only made Draco
want him more. Apparently Weasley was surprised by this gesture, but blushed
and acceptedall all the same. Draco dragged the red head to the familiar stone
wall, and glanced quickly at Ron, who uncomfortably looked to the side as Draco
whispered, "Carpe Nocturn." He hoped no one would be there right now;
there were still a few hours until lunch.

"This is our common room," Draco said sounding as though he was
giving him the grand tour of some royal ballroom.

"Spare me the grand tour, Malfoy. Where's your room?"

Draco ran through a list of possible witty rejoinders, but found them all
entirely too difficult to spit out. Instead he grabbed Weasley's elbow and
began to drag the boy to his room. Draco had never wanted anything more
desperately than he wanted the Weasel at that moment. He was breathing so hard
he was sure his lungs would explode.

Draco threw open the door, and still holding tightly to Weasley's arm threw
him roughly to the bed. The other boy's lanky body flew, and the back of his
head smashed into the headboard. The redhead grinned wide, and rubbed the back
of his skull. He was red in the face, but looked absolutely adorable with his
white, somewhat crooked teeth gleaming.

"Uh," he said flushing an even deeper crimson. "Maybe we
should talk about this first. I mean-"

Draco leapt on top of the boy, causing Ron's head to smash against the
headboard again. Draco forcefully pushed his lips onto the red head's, reveling
in the all-consuming taste that was Ron Weasley. Draco could feel Weasley
beneath him, and could not hold back the moan that had been growing in the back
of his throat.

Weasley harshly grabbed the back of his head, pulling him tightly as Draco
placed his knee in between his legs.

"Wait," Draco said, stopped inches before Weasley's flushed face.

"What?" Ron replied. He seemed annoyed that Draco was talking.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe isn't a good idea. I mean, I'm a Malfoy.
And you're, well, you're a separate species." It was such a stupid thing
to say. 'I'm a Malfoy?' Draco thought to himself. What was he, a
Capulet?

"Excuse me?" he said, glaring at Draco. It was fun to watch how
quickly the emotions played out on that beautiful, flushed face. One moment he
was my amy and passion-swept and the next he was glaring at Draco as if he were
some kind of idiot. Wait. No one could think glare at Draco! And no one could
think he was an idiot, either. The only sensible thing to do was to grab Ron's
robes and rip them off his body. Draco pulled harshly at the black cloth as
buttons went flying through the air, and Ron's eyes widened at the suddenness
of Draco's action.

Underneath the robes, a white, lithe and freckled body lay before him. Ron's
only undergarment of choice was a pair of Chudley Cannons
boxers (which were apparently in the way, because the turned-on redhead was
bursting out of those.) Draco smiled at the body displayed in front of him. He
looked up to Weasley's face; he was apparently waiting for some sort of
approval, because he looked incredibly nervous. Draco cocked an eyebrow in
response, and before he could even began to say anything Ron was grabbing at
his shoulders, pulling him on top of him. It was awkward the way Ron was
pulling him down, and trying to undo Draco's robes all at once. But somehow he
managed, and soon Draco was wearing only a white undershirt, and his black
boxers. Ron had shimmied out of what was left of his tattered robe, and they
both paused to examine the situation. Draco was still straddling Ron's clothed
hips, and smiled up at the boy. He was feeling incredibly different today. He
was sure he was still giving Ron a slightly sarcastic, smug smile, but it was
different. He felt shy too, and self-conscious. His arm was still throbbing
with pain, and he was very conscious that he had kept the Mark away from Ron's
view.

"What is it?" Ron asked thickly. That boy wanted him. He wanted
him badly. And who was Draco to blame him, he was hot. Ron, still lying down,
began to timidly move his hands to Draco's waist. Sticking
his long, thin fingers inside of Draco's white undershirt. His warm
hands, softly touching Draco's skin, and his fingers brushing the top of
Draco's shorts, it was too much. Ron bit his lip seductively as he timidly
placed his hands into Draco's shorts. Before he knew what was happening Draco
was out of his boxers, and undershirt, and had been flipped onto the bed. Ron
was now in control, and truthfully, he couldn't have been happier.

Ron placed his now completely nude body on top of Draco's. Feeling Ron's
cock pressed against his own was a completely new experience. It was
surprising, but in a way that only made Draco want to devour the redhead more.
Ron began kissing Draco's neck, slowly licking and sucking at the delicate
flesh. His hands lowered to Draco's nipples, teasing them with his fingers.
Waves and ripples of ecstasy were flowing through Draco. He'd never imagined
his entire body was just reacting. No amount of Malfoy willpower could stop him
now. He was bucking involuntarily as Ron played hkin kin like an instrument.
Every kiss, every bite, every pass of Ron's tongue over his skin drove him
further into a state where he was no longer Draco Malfoy. He was a just there,
right then, with Ron.

"Kiss me," Draco panted. Ron lifted his head from Draco's neck,
and looked straight into his eyes. He pushed his body slowly forward over
Draco's skin, sending a fresh new wave of sensation through his body. The
redhead's face came closer to his own, his lips swollen, and pink. His lips
clamped down upon Draco's, slowly kissing them, and opening them with his warm
tongue. Draco needed Ron, and he had no idea how much longer he could wait.

Apparently Ron sensed it. He slowly lowered himself down Draco's body,
placing his tongue in the center of Draco's chest, and licking toward his
navel. He slowly kissed at the hollow area, and placed his hands on either side
of Draco's waist. Slowly Ron moved his mouth further down, carefully kissing
the light brown hairs around Draco's cock. He couldn't tell if Ron was
specifically trying to tease him, or if he didn't know what he was doing. But
the lack of attention being paid to his lower region was some sick balance of
unbearable and complete bliss. Ron was now sucking, and kissing at the inside
of Draco's thigh, he was so close; Ron's mouth was so hot. He wanted more.

And then, it happened. Ron placed his hot mouth on Draco's cock. And
whatever he thought passion and ecstasy was before was complete bullshit. This
was insanity. Draco jolted, and bucked into Ron's mouth, which made the other
boy moan and send reverberating chills through Draco's cock. It finished
quickly, and with a final upward jolt Draco was through. He slumped back on the
bed, and let out a large breath of air. Ron crawled off of Draco and lay next
to him.

"Weasley?"

"What?" The redhead replied nervously.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you doing? Do you honestly think I'm through with
you?"

"I-I..." But before he could finish Draco pounced. He violently
shoved his lips onto Ron's and grabbed his cock with a free hand. He could feel
Ron straining into his touch, and a violent abandon to his kissing. Ron tipped
his head back as Draco brought him closer and closer to coming. Draco kissed
his exposed throat, licking at an area that apparently was driving Ron wild.
Draco needed to taste this boy. While still pumping the boy into his hands, he
lowered his head and kissed the head of Ron's cock. Ron jumped momentarily, but
then groaned loudly. Slowly Draco put his mouth over Ron's cock, and began
sucking hard, developing a rhythm. Ron was in on it, too. He was practically
fucking Draco's mouth. And with boyish spurts Ron came quickly into Draco's mouth.


Draco had never experienced anything like this. He rose from Weasley's lap,
and raised a solitary eyebrow. Ron looked back down at him, and turned his head
slightly. This was now suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Thanks," Ron mumbled. Thanks? What the hell did that mean?
Thanks.

Draco lay down stiffly next to Ron. He was suddenly aware of how incredibly
naked they both were. "Well, we should probably get ready for
classes," he said as he got up off the bed and went to his wardrobe for a
new set of robes.

"Ya... but, uhm, I don't really have anything to wear anymore,"
Ron said holding up a tattered black piece of cloth that had once been his
robes. Shit, he hadn't thought of that.

"Oh. Well, I actually think I have something you could wear."
Draco's uncle, who he hadn't seen in three years, had sent him a set of new
robes for his sixteenth birthday. They were way too long, but Draco had kept
them anyway. "Here," he said, thrusting the green velvet robes at the
other boy.

Ron looked down at the material in his hands. Was he actually looking
appalled at them? What nerve! "Well," Draco growled. "Put them
on."

"I don't know, Malfoy. They're a bit... I don't know. Not me? I mean, I
can't wear these to classes." The boy may have been hot, but he wasn't all
too terribly bright.

"Put them on Weasel, and walk to your dorm. Then you can change Do you
honestly think I'd allow you keep my clothes? These robes are worth more than
your life." Ron looked at him in shock. What, he wasn't going to just like
him now that they had fucked.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Obviously my life means
nothing to you. Obviously your life doesn't either. I know what that
fucking mark is on your arm. I know you're a Death Eater."

How dare he. How fucking dare he.
First he insults his impeccable fashion sense, then
the fucking Weasel had the nerve to call him a Death Eater. He had let this get
out of control. The redhead had obviously placed some sort of voodoo mind curse
on him, because he had almost forgot for those few moments that he was, indeed,
a Death Eater. "Don't talk about what you don't know. Put on those fucking
robes." Ron swiftly jammed his pale, freckled body into the garment,
buttoning the robes hastily.

"Why do you have to be such an ass? I wasn't the one who started this
episode."

Draco casually buttoned his cloak, and turned toward the boy. His red,
tousled hair formed a halo around his head, and the green fabric was bringing
out subtle hints of green in his blue eyes. He had never looked more beautiful,
or uncomfortable. Draco chuckled, and looked cruelly up into Ron's eyes.
"Look," he said seriously. "I can't have people knowing about
the... well, you know. It needs to bpt apt a secret, okay?" Ron looked
quickly down at his feet, and then mutely nodded his head. "Good."
Draco tilted his head, and gave Ron a hard kiss on the mouth.

"Can I just wear a pair of your school robes? If I'm just running to my
dorm it wont matter if they don't really fit."

"I don't know. I kind of like you in green. It makes you look
mysterious." Ron looked awkwardly down at himself, as though wondering if
he really did look mysterious.

"Uhm, can I take these off now?"

"I don't know. Can I watch you?"

***Ron***

The days following the first incident were a blur. They passed by quickly,
almost as if they were a dream. Ron didn't like to think too much about what he
was doing, and the more time he spent with Malfoy the less he actually thought
about being with Malfoy. They had been skipping classes, too. Or getting in fights in the halls, so they could be sent to
detention at night. Harry and Hermione had barely even noticed Ron. The
only times they actually saw each other were at meals, and most of the time
Harry joined Cho at the Ravenclaw table.

One late, overcast afternoon, about a week after their first...encounter,
Ron and Draco were laying comfortably in Ron's bed.
Everyone in the school was down at the Quidditch game (Ravenclaw vs.
Hufflepuff).

"You know Weasley," Draco said with a smirk "You do have a
rather large... nose." Ron glared at the blond boy lying next to him. He
may have been hot, but he was still a smarmy git.

"Should I be flattered?"

"Yes," Draco replied, and leaned over Ron's face. He placed his
lips on the tip of Ron's nose and bit it lightly. Ron smiled, and laid back. He
was tired, but everyone would be getting back pretty soon. It felt odd to be
like this with Malfoy. The first time everything had been so timid, and he was
really unsure about everything. Somehow sex with Malfoy had become different,
it could go from being almost loving (if that was possible) to violent and
harsh. And today had been one of those violent ones. Draco had dark bruises and
teeth marks all over his arm where Ron had gone viciously at the Dark Mark.
Something about it really attracted him. And every time he touched it he could
feel a wave of tension and pleasure flow through Draco.

"Do you hear that?" Draco tensed, and asked quietly. Oh god, Ron
thought. Please don't let it be Harry. Ron listened intently, and yes,
he heard it too. But it didn't really sound like the thumping of his dorm mates
coming up the stairs, it sounded more like tapping. Ron looked toward the
window, and sure enough, a huge black eagle owl was tapping at the window.

"Is that yours?" Ron asked, but Draco was frozen, staring at the
immense black bird. He silently swallowed, and licked his lips.

"It's not mine. It's my father's."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*** I borrowed a scene from "At Swim, Two Boys" if you know which,
you get 100,000 Dee-mega-cool-bonus points.

.....