Fine Time (for chess)

This is a fic that I wrote for my good buddy Alliy for her birthday, and now that she\'s read it, I can finally post it.
Warnings and disclaimers: Nothing but the plot (what little of it there is) and Ron\'s Chudley Cannon\'s shirt is mine.
The characters and places are Rowling\'s, Sandman Gaiman\'s and the song is \'Fine Time\' by Ms. Holly Near.
No profit is being made off of this story, no cno copyright infringement is intended with it.
If you read, please, review, even if it\'s just \'hey, I read your story\' Even those keep me going through the cold dark nights.

Now, on with the story


Fine Time for Chess...
(A happy birthday songfic)

It was the beginning of Christmas Break, and Ron was not happy. Because Christmas meant two things, another maroon jumper from his mother, and a stack of pity presents from everyone else.
He didn’t /need/ another maroon jumper, and he didn’t want a pile of pity.
On the upside, he and Harry were the only Gryffindor boys of their year who were staying over the holidays, and even Hermione had gone home.
That meant that he had Harry pretty much to himself for the next three weeks. He wasn’t going to complain about that. Aside from Harry’s lack of attention of course.
He was feeling both neglected and bored. How was it that Harry could sit still reading for so long? How boring.
Not that Ron minded watching Harry so much really, in fact it was one of his favorite hobbies. Harry-watching was right up there with ‘mess with the fangirls’ generally also with Harry, last Christmas they’d had an out and out suck face session under the mistletoe, which he would have liked to say it was solely for the benefit of the fangirls, but he knew they’d both enjoyed it as well. Probably more than they should have.
And they were going to have to top it this year.

No, I’m not feeling fine
The blues have got me like a five-and-dime
The tank is empty and the chrome on Chevy’s don’t shine
When Love is gone from me

“Harry?” He intoned in the infamous ‘I want something’ voice.
Harry blinked up at his best friend, finger marking his place in the book, sliding his glasses up with the other hand, “Yeah Ron? Something you want?”
Ron sighed melodramatically and sprawled across the chair next to Harry’s, trying to hide the fact that he found that little reflexive gesture absolutely adorable, “I’m bored.”
Harry rolled his eyes, careful not to let Ron see, he knew there was a silent ‘and I want you to entertain me’ tacked on the end of that sentence, “And what do you expect me to do about that Ron?” The redhead really was cute when he was plaintive, “I don’t know. Play a game with me. I mean, what’s so interesting about a Muggle book anyway?”
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes again, “I keep telling you Ron, read it yourself and you’ll see. It’s not like it’s all words, it’s a /graphic/ novel after all, there /are/ pictures.” He sighed again, shaking his head and closing the book, “What game?”
Ron grinned, rolling himself upright in the chair, “Chess of course.”

No, I’m not feeling fine,
The day has done me and I’m on decline
The songs are sappy and the boots on baby don’t shine
When love is gone from me.

Harry groaned, mostly for show, “Chess? /Again/? How many times can you play chess and not be bored out of your mind?” Though he’d long since discovered that playing chess with Ron was far from boring, no matter how many times they played it.
Ron rolled his eyes, “Well if it’s that boring, we’ll just have to find a way to make it more interesting.” He was already hatching an insane, and very unboring, idea.
Harry arched a brow, “Chess, /more/ interesting? That wouldn’t take much Ron.”
Ron nodded, pretending to mull this over, glancing around the empty common room, “You remember that game ‘Mione taught us over the summer?”
Harry arched a brow, “Bingo?”
Ron rolled his eyes with a sigh, “No, not that one, the one with the cards and the clothes coming off, the one that ‘Mione inevitably won every time.”
Harry’s brow arched higher, “Strip poker?”

So this would be a fine time to tell me that you love me
Yes, this would be a fine time to tell me that you love me
I feel like a wreck, I can’t find my way out

Ron grinned, “That’s the one.” Not that he hadn’t known all along of course, “Think the rules would be much the same for chess, don’t you?”
Harry blinked in disbelief, “You want to play strip /chess/?”
Ron was still grinning, he shrugged, “It would make it more interesting, wouldn’t it?”
Harry sighed, shaking his head. Ron pouted, “Aww, c’mon Harry. We’ll do it upstairs with the curtains closed, not like anyone’s going to /see/ us.”
Harry sighed again, though he had to admit, this was probably one of Ron’s better harebrained schemes. Ron had filled out since the summer strip poker sessions, and he found that he was eager to see exactly how much, “Okay, fine. Let’s just get this over with so I can finish Fables and Reflections”
Ron blinked, he hadn’t expected Harry to agree quite so easily, but he wasn’t going to argue it, he snagged his best friend’s arm trying to tug him to his feet, “Well let’s go then, wouldn’t want to keep you from reading that bloody book for the five millionth time.”

I’m hungry for love but I’ve been chewing on doubt
So this would be a fine time to tell me
That you love me

Harry nodded, setting up the board, soon seated comfortably at the opposite end of the bed from his best friend, “One item of clothing per pair of captures sounds fair, don’t you think?”
Ron nodded, settling comfortably as he set out his pieces, “Sounds fair, I’ll even let you go first.” Harry chuckled softly at Ron’s seeming benevolence, knowing that it wouldn’t last long and also knowing that he’d need every advantage he could get.
Even so, he was soon stripped to the waist, whereas Ron had only lost his jumper, leaving just a Chudley Cannons t-shirt which was a size too small, not that Harry was going to complain about something like that, Ron had /definitely/ filled out since the summer strip poker sessions, and the too-small shirt was the next best thing to having it off completely.

No, I’m not feeling fine
The sharks are biting and I’m falling behind
The drive-in’s closing and the midnight motion don’t shine
When love is gone from me

After that the game seemed to be going at a breakneck pace, without seeming rushed at all. Ron grinned as he made another pair of captures, the smile turning apologetic as he shrugged at Harry, “Glasses or pants, sorry mate”
Harry rolled his eyes, sliding off the side of the bed to wriggle out of his jeans, “I\'m blind without my glasses and you know it. I see how you are now, you /want/ me blind so that I’ll loose.” He huffed melodramatically as he dragged a pillow into lap, not that he had anything to hide—yet—except the Snitches on his boxers.
He nearly chortled as he made a long-awaited second capture, “Shirt off Ron.” He had to force himself not to grin as Ron shed the garment, flicking it aside. Quidditch had definitely done the redhead good, and there was no way Harry was going to complain about the view now.

No, I’m not feeling fine
No angel babies and it’s crying time
Shoo-bop-ee-do-wah and the harps in heaven don’t shine
When love is gone from me

Harry was chewing the corner of his lip, watching the board intently, playing the part of the nervous schoolboy quite well. Though he really wasn’t anywhere near as flustered as he seemed at their self-imposed rules, and was, in fact, playing the best game he had in ages, and if Ron had /known/ he was falling into Harry’s trap—even as he made another pair of captures—he probably wouldn’t have been so apologetic when he shrugged, “Sorry mate, you know the rules.”
Harry did the only thing that seemed logical at that juncture, he flung himself across the bed to pounce his best friend, fingers curling through ginger hair as he crushed his lips to Ron’s, making a triumphant sound in the back of his throat.

I won’t lead you on baby or play hard to get
I won’t promise you riches or leave you in debt
I got a ’54 Chevy, an Ovation guitar
And I can play ‘love me tender’ in the backseat of my car

This reaction of course only confused Ron, it wasn’t every day that you had your—highly desirable—best friend throw himself into your lap, and it took him a moment before he was able to reply in kind, one arm snaking around the other teen’s waist, lips parting willingly, if sluggishly.
Harry sighed, detaching himself from the kiss to leave a trail of teasingly sharp nips and equally teasing soothing laps down the side of Ron’s pale throat, his hips rocking down and forward against the redhead’s, well at least he seemed to be doing /something/ right, if only he would /respond/ somehow instead of sitting there gasping like a fish out of water.

No, I’m not feeling fine
The blues have got me like a five-and-dime
The tank is empty and the chrome on Chevy’s don’t shine
When Love is gone from me

Harry sighed softly as he allowed Ron to tug him away from where he’d attached himself, leech-like, to the juncture of the redhead’s neck and shoulder. His brow furrowed, blinking as he saw the expression on Ron’s face, realizing that he’d crossed one of the lines that seemed to spring up at random between them lately, “Merlin Ron, I’m sorry.”
He was cut off from further apology however when Ron smiled, shaking his head, “We can’t exactly say this is for the benefit of the fangirls, y’know? Need to know that this goes both ways, give and take.”
Harry smiled then, leaning up to nuzzle his best friend—and soon to be lover’s—nose, “Always has been Ron, always has been.”

No, I’m not feeling fine
No angel babies and it’s crying time
Heartbreak hotel has got me standing waiting in line
When love is gone from me

The chessboard had been swept from the bed when Harry had pounced, the remaining pieces were knocked to the floor as Ron wriggled out of his jeans, pausing only a moment to take in Harry’s look of hungry admiration before pressing himself close to the brunette once more, laying thorough claim to Harry’s mouth and leaving both of them gasping.
Once again things seemed to be moving along at a breakneck pace, without seeming at all rushed, and they both knew that it would all be over all too soon. But for some reason this realization didn’t bother them in the slightest, they were intent on making what they could last as long as humanly possible, taking time to relish the sensations, two Quidditch-toned bodies rocking against each other, pressing close, fitting hip to hip, chest to chest seamlessly, as if they’d been made for this.

So this would be a fine time to tell me that you love me
Yes, this would be a fine time to tell me that you love me
I feel like a wreck, I can’t find my way out

After that they were aware only in flashes, flickerings of summer heat, flash fire, chain lightning. A flash of fingers through hair, teeth against skin, gasping mouths. A flash of copper hair meshed with black, hazel eyes meeting green, the crush of kiss-swollen lips. A flash, the curve of an angled hip, flash, legs tangling hopelessly, flash, nails pressed against wrists, flash, skin, flash, hair, flash, teeth, flash raw unadulterated need.
Then Harry arched, a perfect, beautiful arch, green eyes unfocused, unseeing, as time held still for the space of a heartbeat.

I’m hungry for love but I’ve been chewing on doubt
So this would be a fine time to tell me
That you love me

There were no fireworks, no explosions, no stars, no earth shattering of any sort, just a deep, rushing peace and an even deeper calm, one—or both—of them remembered the words to a cleaning charm, murmuring softly as the other—or both of them—pulled the quilt up over thoroughly exhausted bodies, sinking deeper into the calm, surrendering to the peace.
Two teenage boys, damp and spent, curled together beneath a school quilt, chess pieces lying scattered and forgotten across the floor.

Then I’d be feeling so fine.