Chapter II

Ron hadn't seen Draco since he had left the storage room almost an hour ago. It was for the better, he supposed, and hadn't thought anything of it. He drifted aimlessly through the halls, too restless to return to the common room. He knew he probably should, since his whole reason for parting with Draco to begin with was to keep Harry and Hermione from noticing his strange disappearances.

With a defeated sigh, Ron turned and headed up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. He was grateful that he had the staircases memorised, because his mind was still in the storage room with Draco, so he would have surely fallen in the disappearing step or walked right off the edge. He wondered if Draco thought about him this much when they were apart.

Ron knew that he loved Draco fully and completely, to the point where he was almost clingy. Even when they were apart, his every thought was focused on Draco. He frowned. Draco didn't seem to have a hard time pretending that they weren't together. Except for that one slip up in Defence Against the Dark Arts today, Ron would have never guessed that Draco thought about him at all. He shook his head, knowing he was being completely ridiculous. Insecurities run deep sometimes.

He met up with Harry and Hermione outside of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Ron! There you are!" Hermione chirped, running over to him. "Where have you been?" she asked, as she straightened out his collar. "You're a complete mess!"

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Hermione,"

"Oh, honestly," she huffed. "I was just heading for the library. Care to join me?"

"To the library?" Ron repeated, "I don't think so."

She shrugged. "Have it your way. I'll see you at dinner."

Ron watched as she started down the stairs, then turned his gaze to Harry, who was look at him with an amused smirk.

"What?" He asked.

"She's crazy about you," Harry informed him with a smile. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Hermione?" Ron asked, shocked. "I had no idea,"

"It's a little obvious," Harry responded, then turned to the Fat Lady and said the password. The portrait swung open, and they both entered the common room.

"I don't believe you," Ron said guiltily.

"She watches you all the time,"

Ron was suddenly very, very happy that he and Draco sat in the very back of the room in Defence Against the Dark Arts. But now, he and Draco would have to be extra careful. He silently thanked Harry for the warning.

"You two would be good for each other," Harry went on, taking a seat near the fire. "You should ask her to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"I—" already have arrangements. "I'll think about it."

Harry studied him for a minute, frowning. "I expected you to be a little more enthusiastic about it,"

"Right. Well, it's just a bit of a surprise," and I'm completely uninterested.

Harry looked at Ron as if he had understood the hidden meaning behind Ron's words. Just as Ron started to open his mouth to clarify, Harry smiled and pulled out some cards.

"Come on," he said, gesturing for Ron to sit down with him. "Let's play Exploding Snap until dinner."

He and Harry played a few games of Exploding Snap, idly chatting about everything from their Potions assignment to Quidditch. They didn't mention Hermione again, and Ron was very grateful for that. He had liked her back in fourth year, but the attraction had faded into a love he would feel for a sister. The thought of her liking him made him uncomfortable and brought on new feelings of guilt and stress about hiding his relationship with Draco. Everything would be so much easier if he could just tell a few people. Especially since now he was going to have to make up elaborate excuses for not taking Hermione to Hogsmeade, and generally not pursuing her at all.

After they completed their third game, it was nearly time for dinner. Harry slipped the cards back into his bag and they headed toward the Great Hall together in companionable silence. Ron scanned the hallways, always keeping an eye out for a flash of blond. Much to his dismay, he didn't see Draco anywhere.

Hermione was waiting for them outside the Hall, and the trio entered together and took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. The meal began and food appeared on the table. While everyone was distracted with filling their plates, Ron looked over to the Slytherin table. Draco was nowhere to be seen. Ron felt the beginnings of concern begin to wash over him, as he had no idea where Draco could have possibly disappeared to. He couldn't even go search for him without drawing too much attention to himself. He would just have to wait until their arranged meeting time and see if he showed up then.

"Are you alright, Ron?" Hermione asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine, yeah," Ron answered distractedly. "Just tired,"

"Why don't you go back to the dorm and go to bed?" She suggested. "You don't seem to be eating much, anyway."

Ron felt Harry nudge him under the table. So Harry had been right, after all. Hermione did watch him.

Under normal circumstances, Ron would have refused her suggestion. However, it gave him the perfect opportunity to leave and figure out what had happened to Draco.

"Good idea," he said quickly, standing up. "I'll see you two tomorrow."

He all but ran out of the Great Hall, deciding he would check the storage room first, then go look in all of their other assorted meeting places.

He had barely made it out into the corridor when something grabbed him and forcefully pulled him back into a hidden alcove. Ron struggled to pull away, fighting against whoever was holding him.

"Stop squirming," his captor hissed. Ron instantly relaxed.

"Draco," he sighed. He placed a hand on his chest, willing his racing heart to slow. "Don't do that to me."

Draco turned Ron around so they were facing each other, and pressed Ron back against the wall, his hands holding Ron's arms tightly. He said nothing, staring at Ron as if he could see right through him.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, gently gripping Draco's arms. "I was worried about you."

Draco shrugged. "I wasn't hungry,"

"Oh,"

Ron took a minute, taking in Draco's appearance. His hair was slightly dishevelled and his robes were crooked, as if they had been hastily thrown on. They even looked to be a little dusty, and there was a dark spot on his cheek.

Ron brought his hand up, gently holding Draco's face, and ran his thumb over the spot. "What did you get on your face?"

Draco paled. "I don't know,"

Ron pulled his hand back, looking at the small, rusty coloured pieces that had flecked off onto his thumb. He wiped it off on his robes, licked his thumb, then brought it back to Draco's face, attacking the spot again. Draco smiled, gazing at Ron with a sort of exasperated affection.

When the spot was finally gone, Ron pulled his hand away, studying the red smear it had left on his thumb. He rubbed his fingers together, then brought it up to his face, smelling it. "What is this?" He asked again, frowning. He certainly knew what it looked like, but why would there be blood on Draco's face?

Draco looked away. "I really—"

"It looks like blood,"

"We better go," Draco said distractedly, pulling Ron out of the alcove. "Before everyone starts to leave the Great Hall."

"Draco—"

"We can go ahead to the third floor now," Draco continued, leading the way to the stairs. "No need to return to our common rooms."

"Draco,"

Draco tensed and stopped walking, slowly turning around to face Ron. "Yes, it's blood. And no, I didn't hurt anyone. It's mine." He admitted tightly, predicting Ron's questions. "Happy?"

"Are you hurt?" Ron asked gently, stepping closer and taking Draco's hands.

"I'm fine,"

Ron leaned forward and, after a careful glance around the hallway, placed a quick kiss on Draco's lips. "That's all I need to know."

Draco didn't like being interrogated; Ron knew that better than anyone. If Draco said he was fine, Ron would just have to take his word for it and leave it at that. There were still a million questions he wanted to ask, but he knew Draco wouldn't talk unless he wanted to. He was just going to have to wait, no matter how hard it would be.

Draco pulled his hands away, and turned back around, continuing on his way to the third floor. As he did, Ron caught a glimpse of dark, irritated cuts on Draco's hand. He opened his mouth to say something about it, but then wisely snapped it closed. There was no point in upsetting Draco. It seemed like he had had a hard enough day without Ron making it worse.

Ron waited until Draco was a few feet ahead of him, then started walking as well. They never walked down hallways side by side; they always had to take different paths to get to the same destination, or keep a respectable distance between them.

As they walked, Ron ran through his mental checklist of things he did before he left to spend the night with Draco. He always made sure to close his bed curtains in case someone woke up in the night and noticed he wasn't there. That was done, as he had gotten into the habit of keeping the curtains closed at all times, whether he was in bed or not. He had a reasonable alibi, so Harry and Hermione wouldn't suspect anything. Other than that, there was nothing left that he really had to do. Well, he usually did some homework while he was waiting for the opportune moment to sneak out, but that wasn't exactly important.

Ron entered their room just in time to see Draco transfigure the bed. Ron closed the door behind him, placing the usual locking and silencing charms on it. In a few quick steps, Ron crossed the distance between him and Draco, silently pulling him into his arms. Draco's arms snaked around Ron's back, holding him tight.

Ron nuzzled slightly into Draco's hair, his hands gently roaming over Draco's shoulders. Draco pulled away slightly and brought his hands between them, fumbling with the clasp of Ron's robes. He opened it on his third try, and shoved the heavy material open and off of Ron's shoulders.

"Put your arms down," he mumbled, already starting on the buttons on Ron's shirt.

"In a minute," Ron whispered, taking Draco's face in his hands. Draco reluctantly turned his attention away from the buttons, staring up at Ron questioningly. Ron took a shuddering breath and pulled Draco to him, crushing their mouths together. Draco made a small, desperate sound, parting his lips under Ron's. They shifted, their kiss becoming closer, deeper, trying to taste as much of each other as they possibly could.

Ron let his arms drop down, and his robes slipped off and fell to the floor. Draco was working at Ron's buttons again, and Ron ran his hands up Draco's body, landing on the clasp to his robes. Their lips parted, and they became more interested now in getting clothes out of the way. Draco had just finished with Ron's buttons as Ron attempted to shove Draco's robes off. Draco pulled his hands back, allowing Ron push the robes away.

Ron shrugged out of his shirt, then reached over to start on Draco's. He paused, however, when he noticed Draco's shirt was already halfway untucked and only the top few buttons were still in place. He slowly undid those, hesitantly pushing Draco's shirt off. Skinny, pinkish lines across Draco's stomach immediately caught his attention.

"Draco, what is this?" He asked, gently running his fingertips across the raised lines.

"It's nothing," Draco answered huskily, pushing Ron's hand away. "Don't touch, it's nothing."

Ron ignored him and dropped down to his knees, taking a better look at the irritated skin. There were four lines, two of them considerably larger and darker than the others. Small pinpricks of dried blood ran across the top of the two bigger lines, while the other two just looked badly scratched.

"What happened?" He asked softly, trailing his fingers over the marks again. His own fingers lined up perfectly with the marks, and Ron knew immediately that this wasn't an accident.

Draco stared down at him, irritated. "If you're not going to do anything interesting down there, I suggest you stand up."

He attempted to push Ron's hands away again, but Ron quickly caught his hand before he could pull away. He ran his thumb over the small gashes on Draco's hand, inspecting the damage. The cuts themselves didn't look too bad, but there was a huge stain of blood underneath the skin running along Draco's knuckles, and a few dark bruises were starting to form in some places.

"Explain this while you're at it," Ron added, gazing up at Draco in concern.

"I said it's nothing!" Draco snapped, yanking his hand away. He grabbed Ron's hand that still rested on his stomach and forced it downward, pressing Ron's palm flat against the growing hardness in his trousers, his eyes clouding in desperation.

Ron sighed, using his free hand to caress Draco's lower back. He would wait; Draco would want to talk eventually. For now, he would just do what Draco wanted.

He pulled his hand out of Draco's grip, and moved it to rest on the back of Draco's thigh. He leaned forward, nuzzling his face between Draco's legs, kissing him through the fabric, causing Draco to tremble in his arms. He placed quick, hard kisses everywhere within reach, before moving back up to drop soothing kisses on Draco's stomach.

Draco's hands threaded into Ron's hair; petting, pulling, yanking. Ron slowly stood back up, leaving a gentle trail of kisses from Draco's stomach up to his neck, before he returned to Draco's lips again. They kissed frantically, desperately needing more.

Draco grabbed Ron's arms and started walking backward, stumbling a little over their robes as he led them over to the bed. His weight shifted back, and they both fell gracelessly onto the bed in an awkward tangle. Ron crushed his lips to Draco's again, and attempted to roll over on to his back and pull Draco on top of him. As soon as Draco noticed his intention, he shoved him away with a firm hand to the chest.

"You're topping," he said harshly, giving Ron a dark look.

Ron hesitated, studying Draco's face in concern. Something was wrong, Ron couldn't exactly place it, but he knew. Draco had been acting strange all day, and this was so unlike him. But if that was what he really wanted...

"Okay,"

Draco's legs wrapped around Ron's waist, pulling him closer, finally getting the contact that both of their bodies craved. A quiet, breathy moan slipped past Ron's lips, and he ran his hand over Draco's chest, stomach, neck; caressing and loving, becoming reacquainted with every visible inch of Draco's body. His head dipped down and he placed a kiss on Draco's shoulder, while Draco ran his hands down Ron's back, finally dipping below the waist of his trousers.

"Please, Ron," Draco begged hoarsely.

Ron pulled back, gazing into Draco's eyes. Draco's expression was one of pure, unabashed need, and Ron had no right to refuse him. He pulled away long enough just to remove the rest of his clothing, while Draco fumbled with his own. They threw the remainder of their clothing into a messy heap on the floor, and Ron quickly moved back into his previous position. He bent down, kissing Draco's temple and moving down his jaw, finally making his way to Draco's lips, distracting him while Ron prepared him.

Draco cried out, muffled by Ron's kiss, and arched up against him.

"Is this- are you ready?" Ron whispered into Draco's lips.

"Oh my God, yes,"

Ron moved his hand out of the way, and slowly, carefully pushed in. They moved together, biting back cries of ecstasy, and oh God Ron loved him. Draco was sobbing and writhing beneath Ron, his hands bruising Ron's shoulders and hips and anywhere he could reach. His hands moved back up to Ron's shoulder blades, digging his nails into Ron's skin and drawing them slowly downward, forcing a small, pained moan to escape from deep within Ron's throat.

The sound triggered something deep within Draco, and all he knew was that he wanted more. He wanted to make Ron cry out again and again and know that he was the one who caused it. He leaned forward as he pulled Ron closer, then sank his teeth into Ron's shoulder. Ron moaned and tried to pull away, but Draco wrapped his arms and legs around Ron tighter, holding him in place. He kissed the bite mark gently, then moved over to the base of Ron's neck, biting again. Ron let out a strangled cry and blood spilled into Draco's mouth, making him come with a shuddering moan.

Ron followed him seconds after, then collapsed to the side and pulled Draco to him, both still trembling in the effects of their afterglow. Draco curled up next to him, wrapping his arms around Ron, stroking his back affectionately.

Ron touched the base of his neck where Draco had bit him, then pulled his hand back. His fingertips were stained in red.

"Draco..." He whispered, not knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

Draco opened his eyes, looking up at Ron's hand. In an instant, the sleepy haze was gone, and he quickly sat up. The bite mark on Ron's neck was swelling slightly and the blood from it had mixed with sweat, covering Ron's neck and shoulder in pinkish red.

"Oh my God, you're bleeding," Draco whispered wretchedly.

He grabbed the edge of the sheet, frantically trying to wipe all the blood away. The wound was still too new, and every time he wiped it clean, more blood would start to rise to the surface.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry,"

"Shh, it's okay," Ron said gently. "It was an accident."

He sat up as well, studying Draco's face. Blood coated Draco's lips and chin, and he looked positively ashamed. Draco wiped his mouth on the back of his arm; only succeeding in smearing it.

"It's okay, really. It wasn't your fault," Ron said soothingly. He'd do anything to get that look off Draco's face, to see him smile again. "I mean, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I probably did something wrong, or... did I hurt you? I wasn't as gentle this time, was I?"

Draco was already shaking his head. "How can you say that?" He demanded. "I bite your neck and suck on it like a fucking vampire and all you can do is blame yourself? That is bullshit, Ron, and you know it is. I don't know what happened, but I..." he trailed off and looked away, trying to keep himself panicking.

Ron pulled Draco to him, wrapping him in a soothing embrace. Draco cuddled closer, burying his face against the side of Ron's neck that wasn't bleeding, a few stray tears leaking from his eyes. He never wanted to hurt Ron. Ever. But, just for a moment, it was like he had completely lost himself. His control had disappeared, and deep down, he knew that a part of himself had wanted to do this to Ron on purpose, possibly even hurt him more. It wasn't an accident, and it wasn't Ron's fault; the only one to blame was Draco.

Ron hugged him tight, kissing the top of his head. Ron felt the tears on his neck, but knew better than to call attention to it. The bite mark still stung like mad, probably because of the sweat mixing into it, but it would have to wait. For now, the only important thing was Draco. There was nothing wrong with what Draco had done; Ron was certain that sort of thing happened accidently all of the time.

He shifted Draco slightly, so he could support him with one arm, then reached for his wand that he had left on the side of the bed. He found it relatively quickly, mumbled a quick spell to clean the blood off the sheets, then pushed Draco back a little to clean the blood off him, as well.

Draco leaned forward, pressing a gentle, almost shy kiss against Ron's cheek.

Ron caught him before he could pull away, kissing him fully. "It’s okay," he said again.

He eased himself down onto his back, then pulled Draco down next to him. Draco rested his head on Ron's chest, wrapping his arm around Ron possessively. The pounding of Ron's heart echoed through Draco's head like a drum, fuelling the swift, enticing rush of Ron's blood. Ron may have been talking, but Draco could no longer hear him. The only sound to reach his ears was the sound of sweet, forbidden temptation.