Pent Up

AN: Thanks to my lovely beta and dear friend Sara for betaing this, couldn't have done this without her.

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“Cheer up, mate!”

Ron Weasley looked at his friend who just sat morosely on a bed in a small, musty bedroom at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

It had been almost three months since Sirius had died at the ministry.

Their schooldays back at Hogwarts would start again soon but Ron felt that Harry couldn't have cared less. The loss of Sirius, the only sort of father figure he'd ever had, weighed bitterly on Harry. Ron had not seen Harry's godfather fall behind the veil but could try to imagine how Harry must have felt. How he must still feel.

Ron nudged his best friend on the ribs and got no response. When he did it again, Harry turned to him, annoyed.

“What?!”

“I know that he's gone, but you...”

“Don't, just..don't!” Harry sprung up from the bed and unbalanced Ron with a shove. The redhead stumbled for a second but then regained his footing. Ron spun around and grabbed Harry's arm, preventing him from leaving the room as he clearly intended.

“You should talk to someone...”

“Who? Remus? He just sits in their room, staring at his picture all day long! When someone mentions him... He truly has no one now. I can't talk to him.”

“Talk to me! Or Hermy, someone!”

“Talk, talk, talk! That's what everyone says but how will it help? How will it make me feel better? How will it...”

Ron interrupted his rant by rushing against him, pinning Harry to the wall by the door and planting his lips over Harry’s in an awkward but ravenous kiss. Soon their lips parted. It had been brief, sweet.

“Ron?”

“...”

In an attempt to drive away the loneliness Harry grabbed Ron by the front of his shirt and initiated a kiss of his own.

Their mouths slid against each other, eager and inexperienced tongues darting back and forth. They both moaned. Hands feeling fabric, seeking skin, finding what they sought for in a chorus of low moans.

Harry and Ron fell to the bed, the redhead on top. Neither questioned what they were doing, their hormones driving them. Harry needed to feel close, alive. Ron... well for now he had realized his well-hidden feelings.

Ron's hand roamed under Harry's shirt, kneading his skin, fingers running in circles. Harry's skin tingled at the touch.

Their hands moved everywhere as they rolled around on the bed. Ron pressed against Harry as they shared another kiss, Ron nibbling at Harry's lower lip. Moans escaped their parted lips as their hips brushed together. Harry's eyes darted up, confused.

“Please... let me do this... Harry... ” Ron pleaded, planting small kisses on Harry's neck. Harry was in ecstasy, his doubts forgotten, his sorrow temporarily disappearing, all else forgotten but the erection grinding against his and the mouth now working on his jawline. His vocabulary was reduced to a series of moans and mewls which were uttered between heavy panting.

“Ron...”

“I...ah...know.”

Ron ground the throbbing bulge in his pants against Harry's. They both needed friction badly. Removing the clothes now restraining their erections would have been wonderful too, had they not been too far gone to care. Breaths rising in pitch, they humped against each other, creating the movement they needed to find release.

The redhead had captured the raven's lips in a kiss just moments before they came, making each other's underwear sticky and wet.

“Bloody hell!” Harry borrowed his friend’s favourite exclamation.

“Hmm,” Ron affirmed from where he lay with his head against Harry's chest, trying to get his breathing under control.

It had been mind-blowing. At least so it seemed to them. Relieving pent up fumes with one's own hand was nowhere close to this.

“So you don't fancy Hermy in that way?” asked Harry lazily, shifting in his cum-damp boxers.

“No. Obviously. And you and Cho..?”

“Nahh..”