Nightmare

Ello again! A massive thank you to everyone for their positive comments on my previous chapter. Looks like it was received very well so yay! Glad I’m not the only one who thinks Ron and Harry making out is the ultimate height of hotness… ;)

Anyways, without further ado, here’s the next part for your reading enjoyment:

***

Smacking a satisfied kiss onto Harry’s scarred forehead, Ron flops back onto the bed, bouncing the mattress and Harry on it. With a mix of tiredness and awe, he proclaims, “That was the most brilliant moment of my life.”

Lying next to Ron in a sort of spellbound state, Harry utters, “Yeah. Not too bad at all.”

“Pity it’s taken us forever to get to this stage. Why’d we wait so long, Harry?”

“I honestly don’t know,” the other boy answers with an absent shake of his head. “I think me being an idiot comes into it somewhere.”

“Glad you said it.” Ron snorts. “Because I would’ve done this anytime you wanted. Course, you had to be a stubborn git and refuse to ask me.”

“Perhaps I should have,” Harry acknowledges dazedly, still tingling all over even though Ron’s magic sparkles vanished ages ago.

“But you will from now on, yeah?” Ron turns his head on the pillow, looking at Harry questioningly. “You’ll let me know?”

“Definitely.”

“You don’t even have to say it, if you don’t want. Just give me a signal. Grab me by the hair or something.” Ron shrugs abashedly. “I kind of like that, actually.”

An amused dimple pops into Harry’s cheek. “So I noticed.”

Admiring the dark violet love-bite he left on his friend, Ron says proudly, “Look at that. That’s a beauty, right there. I ought to take a photo.”

“What?” Harry spares his shoulder a glance, surprised by the bruised mark on it. “Oh. I didn’t even know you did that.”

“Want me to get rid of it for you?” Ron asks, about to get his wand and make it disappear.

“It’s all right. Leave it. Nobody will see it there,” Harry assures, liking the idea of having something personal that Ron gave him on his skin, even if it’s only temporary.

Ron likes that idea too. While everyone else is going about their daily business over the next few days at Hogwarts, Harry will be walking around with a reminder of this night concealed under his shirt, like a secret only the two of them share, a hidden symbol of their lovemaking that no one else knows about.

Right then, a deafening crash of thunder rocks the dormitory to its foundations and Ron glances upwards at the roof. “It’s really pissing down out there, innit? Just as well,” he carries on blithely to Harry. “It completely covered up the sound of your moans.”

Harry squirms slightly. “Shut it. You were moaning too.”

“Not as loud.” Ron is grinning lopsidedly, limbs sprawled out on most of the mattress, one arm under his head, looking lazy and mischievous and messy-haired and cute as heck. Harry rolls over onto his side, propping his chin up with his hand. He gazes warmly at Ron in the silver flashing light, drinking in the sight of his mate’s relaxed handsomeness, Ron’s features softer and broader than Harry’s sharper, angular ones: dreamy summer-sky blue eyes, strawberry-blond lashes and brows, a slightly pug Irish nose and wide, remarkably plush lips -- usually a dusty-rose colour but currently flushed a dark ruby from all the snogging they’ve done over the last half an hour.

“I love kissing you,” Harry confesses, extending his hand and tracing around the soft shape of his friend’s plump pout. “Your lips are wonderful.”

“You don’t think they’re too big?” Ron’s mouth moves doubtfully against Harry’s fingers as he speaks.

“Absolutely not. They’re perfection. You’ve got a prettier pair than all of the girls at school.”

Starting to sound affronted, Ron returns, “Great. You’re saying I’ve got a girl’s mouth?”

“I didn’t mean that. I just meant it’s nice. Really nice,” Harry adds with emphasis.

“Nice?” Ron still seems disbelieving. “Because my toss-pot brothers always said I looked like a wood duck.”

“Well, that’s simply a lie,” Harry reinforces. “Muggles pay big money for lips that look like yours.”

“Truly? Think I could sell them and make a few quid, then?”

“Don’t joke about that.” Harry leans down, grazing his mouth lightly over Ron’s. “I’d miss them too much.”

“You could always kiss something else...” Ron suggests wickedly.

Harry raises a black brow, playing along; his bad dream well and truly forgotten. “Where? Like here?” He cups Ron’s cheek and kisses that beauty mark to the left side of his mouth. “Or here?” Harry kisses his chin, down Ron’s pale neck. Ron chuckles, tipping his head back so Harry can nip at his throat like a playful puppy.

“Hey, Harry? All this stuff we’ve done tonight – it’s been amazing but technically it’s not shagging so...I s’pose that means I’m still a virgin...” A pinkish tinge starts to colour Ron’s cheeks but he courageously continues. “Could we maybe... uh... sort of... do something to change that?”

Lifting his head, Harry stares at him. “Now?”

“Doesn’t have to be tonight. Whenever you’re up for it, mate. Just thought I should let you know that that’s what I want. Y’know, in the future.”

Not quite understanding, Harry repeats slowly, “And what you want in the future is...”

“Well, for us to do it, obviously.” The redhead peers shyly at Harry through half-lowered eyelashes. “Or rather, for you to take it.”

“Take what? I...Oh.” Now Harry’s the one blushing like a maiden on her wedding night. “You mean your...ah...”

“Yeah.” Nodding seriously, Ron states, “I’ve always wanted you to. Kind of like sealing the deal with our relationship. Taking it to the next level and all.”

“Oh,” Harry mutters again, the thought of being on top of Ron both intimidating and titillating at the same time.

“But no hurry. Only when you’re ready.”

“Ready. Right.” Still attempting to process Ron’s startling statement, Harry is not yet up to forming entire sentences. “That’s, uh, that’s really...” He blinks, suddenly realising the magnitude of what Ron is offering to him.

“Really incredible, actually.” He looks at Ron in amazement. “I...Thank you. It would be an honour.”

“Too right it will. Only someone very lucky gets the privilege of seeing my blindingly white arse,” Ron jokes, his sense of humour mixed with candid frankness reminding Harry of why he fell in love with Ron in the first place. Ron is like an open book; all his feelings show plainly on his face and in his eyes. That’s if he hasn’t already blurted it out loud. He doesn’t hide what he thinks, whether it’s good or bad and you always know where you stand with him. One thing Harry can always count on is for Ron to tell the truth, to give it to him straight with no bull and since people have lied to him all his life, Harry appreciates total honesty more than anything else.

It’s high time he started giving it back.

“I know I haven’t told you this often enough, but you mean the world to me, Ron,” Harry begins, laying his hand on Ron’s chest, over his heart. “You’re more than just my best friend.”

Glancing down to where Harry’s fingertip is idly caressing his nipple, Ron replies with amusement, “Clearly.”

“I mean, you’re like a brother to me,” Harry tries to clarify. “I never had one but if I did, I’d want him to be just like you.”

“All right…that’s a little disturbing,” Ron comments uncomfortably, knowing without doubt that this is something he’d never do with any of his numerous siblings. Not with Percy, not with Charlie, not even with Fred or George, who admittedly do look kind of girly with their hair long. Ron wouldn’t be surprised if those two did this sort of stuff together because they’re so disgustingly close but the very thought of it makes him want to run for the bathroom. The ladies at Hogwarts might think his identical brothers are cool and sexy with their roguish grins and rebellious antics but Ron would rather vomit large, slimy slugs again than see either of their skinny, freckled bodies in the nude, let alone touch any part of them.

“You’re not my brother, Harry. And please don’t ever, ever say that again,” Ron adds with a wrinkle of his nose.

“What I’m trying to explain is; you’re like family to me,” Harry continues. “You’re like my blood. The only people I care about as much as you are my parents and well...they aren’t here. You’re all I have now.” The dark-haired boy is looking down, his voice wavering as he speaks, revealing a heart-breaking vulnerability that he doesn’t show to many people at all.

“If I didn’t have you in my life I...I wouldn’t be able to keep on going. I’d fall into a heap and never get up again. You’re my support, Ron, my strength. And I need you. More than you could ever imagine.”

“Aw, sod it,” Ron mumbles, greatly affected by Harry’s moving confession. “I know I have the emotional range of a teaspoon but you’re gonna make me cry in a minute.”

Harry looks up, his gaze unmasked and uncloaked, all his insecurity, yearning and fear completely visible to the other young man. “I’m sure I don’t deserve it sometimes, but no matter what I say to you, no matter what I do, please Ron...just be there for me.”

“I’ve always been there for you, Harry,” Ron reminds him gently. “And I always will. Come here, mate.” He pulls Harry in and hugs him securely with both strong arms, promising the first boy he’ll be around forever and the only way Harry could get rid of him is if he suddenly turned into Draco Malfoy. Or a giant hairy spider. And even then Ron would find a way to turn Harry back. He’s never given up on their friendship and he doesn’t plan to either. Not ever.

Those reassurances are just what Harry needs to hear and he gratefully returns Ron’s embrace, relaxing in the safe warm circle of his best friend’s arms. With his skin pressed to Ron’s bare skin, he thinks about what Ron offered to him earlier, imagining how it’s going to be. He feels extremely close to the first boy right now but after doing that they’ll be even closer. Then they’ll be lovers in the true sense of the word and their bond will be cemented properly, pledging their hearts and bodies to each other for the rest of time. When it happens, Harry knows he’ll probably cry and he’s betting Ron will be a blubbering wreck too but it will be a very special moment and he looks forward to it. Although, he doesn’t want it to happen here at school with all their classmates surrounding them. He doesn’t even really want it to happen in Ron’s room, not in a house full of people, regardless of how much Harry loves those people. The Weasleys are like his second family but he still doesn’t fancy them knowing when he and Ron lose their virginity together. That’d be acutely awkward over the breakfast table. He could just imagine the twins giving them sly smirks and making innocent-sounding comments that really mean something else, such as, “How’s yer sausage, Harry?” while Ron chokes on his poached eggs in mortification. No, in order to avoid to all that morning-after embarrassment they’ll have to find somewhere like a log cabin, tucked far away in the woods with nobody around for miles and no sound but the rustling of the leaves and the hooting of owls. Somewhere that’s private and quiet and just theirs, where he and Ron can be completely and wholly alone.

But as Ron said; no hurry. They can wait. They already know they love each other and for the time being that will sustain them. That and stormy nights like this, where they can steal a couple of precious hours in the same bed, as they both know full well that’s quite against the rules. Dumbledore might let them get away with it but Professor McGonagall wouldn’t. She’d give them a right nasty scolding and remind them rather shrilly about appropriate behaviour and the strict codes of conduct firmly in place at this establishment. However, her words would fall on deaf ears because Harry and Ron have never been ones for rule-following. When they get up to mischief, they’re always doing it together and that’s half the fun of it.

As they lie there listening to the rain, Ron has Harry’s head on his chest and is rifling his fingers through the other teenager’s neatly clipped dark locks. “I wish you hadn’t cut your hair, Harry,” he says with wistfulness. “You looked so beautiful with it longer.”

“Really?” Harry gives a self-conscious laugh as he lifts up to look at Ron’s face. “I thought the same thing about you.”

“But mine’s the colour of carrots,” Ron complains. “Who likes carrots?”

“I do.” Harry smiles fondly. “And it really did look good on you, Ron. I mean it.” With reverence, he touches the flame-coloured strands curling at the other male’s temple, shorter than before but still rich and lustrous, like copper shining in the sun.

“When it was down to your shoulders, I wanted to run my hands through it all the time.”

“Crikey. I’m definitely growing it back now,” Ron declares, willing to do anything if it means getting more Potter attention.

“I will too,” Harry agrees. “For you.”

“Will you do something else for me?”

“Anything.”

“Can you maybe, I dunno, be nice to me sometimes and not a wanker?”

It’s meant to be a joke but Harry can hear the underlying hurt in Ron’s voice and it makes him wince. “I’ve been horrible to you lately, haven’t I, Ron?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Ron answers with a forgiving half-smile.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Harry apologises, regret shining in his clear green eyes. “I don’t mean a word of it. It’s just...I’m not...” He sits up, struggling for the right words.

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” Harry objects. “Being around me…it’s dangerous. You don’t know how it felt to see Cedric lying there on the ground just…gone. And never coming back. If that happened to you, Ron, I’d...” He halts, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

“I couldn’t bear it. I just couldn’t.”

“That won’t happen, Harry. You and me...we’re a top team together,” Ron pronounces persuasively, sitting up next to him. “We’re tough. We watch each other’s backs. And with Hermione’s brains on our side, we’re just about indestructible.”

“But we’re not,” Harry insists. “We’re only human. We could get killed at any moment. Hell, we both nearly have.”

“That may be so but I’d rather live a danger-filled life with you than a safe, boring one all alone.” Ron’s eyes are filled with the wisdom of one much older than he. Taking Harry’s hand and squeezing it with his larger one, he finishes earnestly, “I love you, Harry, and I want to be with you. No matter what. If I’m gonna die, I want it to be beside you, going down fighting. Every day I get to spend with you is a day well worth living and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Immeasurably touched by this, Harry replies in teary gratitude, “How on earth did I manage to end up with such a fantastic friend?”

“’Cause no-one else’d have you, that’s why,” Ron quips jestingly, grinning and butting his shoulder against Harry’s. The brunette boy can’t resist returning the cheekily contagious grin, his mood soaring with the guarantee of Ron’s absolute loyalty and allegiance, even in the face of an uncertain and hazardous future. His burdens seem somehow lighter, knowing that Ron is by his side, helping to carry them.

“Now, how about some more fun?” The redhead suggests enthusiastically, picking up his bag of sweets and rummaging through it. “They’d probably kick my backside if they found out I stole some but my devious brothers invented these chewy numbers that do tremendous things to a bloke’s self esteem.” He finds what he’s looking for and pulls it out with relish. “And I do mean tremendous.”

Intrigued by the harmless-looking purple lozenge Ron is holding, Harry peers at it and questions, “What’re they called? And what do they do?”

“Jumbo Jubes.” With much glee, Ron elaborates, “They give you an extra three inches. But not in height.”

“H-holy...wow,” Harry splutters, going just a little bit red in the face as the implications of that astounding effect filter into his mind.

Chuckling, Ron passes the “W” stamped jube to Harry. “This is my last one so I hope you enjoy it. They taste like grapes.” Sheepishly he admits, “I had more but I sort of used them on myself.”

Blushing even more at the graphic mental image Ron’s admission conjures up, Harry says apprehensively, “Well, it all sounds great in theory but what am I supposed to do with all that extra, um, length?”

“Whatever you want, mate.” Ron lets a naughty quirk touch his luscious lips, his sky-blue eyes gleaming with playfulness.

“And if you can’t think of anything, I bloody well can.”