Disclaimer: I am not, nor will I ever be, JKR.
Neville walks into room, his eyes surveying it. He looks up and sees Ron perched near the fire in the Common Room. He is relieved to have another person. "Hey, Ron. Trevor's missing again." He breathes in, sighing deeply. "And I thought I was getting better at this. Guess not."
"D'ya want me to help? I could check our dorm. Hiding under the bed last time, wasn't he?" Ron has always been terrifically good at finding things. Not quite as good as Harry, but Neville doesn't like to compare the two.
"Really? Thanks. He was sleeping behind Dean's trunk last time, I think."
"Hey, Neville, I found him! He was curled up in the corner near Harry's bed, sleeping. Pretty quiet too."
He sprints upstairs, out of breath. Gently, he picks up his Trevor, and places on it on his own bed, mumbling to the toad to stay put.
"Thanks so much Ron!" Neville moves to hug him, except not really, because it's one of those stiff hugs where your head turns sideways funny, because you need to exude manliness. Neville didn't like it. Apparently, neither did Ron, because he cocked his head just the same way. Releasing each other, their lips banged together, in kind of a weird, wet way, because Ron must have just licked his lips.
"O-oops, sorry," he stammers. "Didn't mean to, I've got to go. Thanks for your help and all though." He rushes off, leaving behind a very pink Ronald Weasley, and his lethargic toad.
It's Neville's first kiss.
Neville hears footsteps and turns around to see Ron leaving their dorm. It's Sunday morning, and the room is bright because of all the strategically placed windows.
"Hi Ron, I was just going to see Sprout for a new plant. She might need help carrying soil about. Want to come?"
"I can't." Neville has had suspicions that Ron has been avoiding him all week. He only sees the boy in lessons now, and Ron never wants to do anything one-on-one anymore.
"Why not?" Neville squeaks, thinking of a million reasons to answer that very question.
"Late for breakfast." That makes perfect sense, Neville thinks to himself. Ron hasn't left his room all day, and his hair is still rumpled-looking. Neville wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through that hair.
Thinking about Ron limits his vocabulary and all he can say is "Oh."
"So, ready yet?" Neville conveniently decides to forget that Ron declined his offer to come with.
"I told you, 'm not going." Neville really doesn't want to leave alone though. It's raining now, and the field surrounding the greenhouses is probably muddy. Neville does not think that this is the type of walk to take without company.
"Yes, but that was before. It might be different now. And you have a stain on your shirt." A large brown stain it was, gracing the middle of Ron's button up shirt. Neville thinks it looks delicious.
"Oh. Oops. Must be syrup. Hey, is that eyeliner you're wearing?" Did he put makeup on today? He can't remember, he just stares at the stain.
There is a long pause before Neville leans forward and licks it.
"Mmm. Sticky. I think it was maple." Delicious, thinks Neville. "But you can't haul dirt in a sticky shirt. Just change your shirt and we'll leave."
"What part of 'I'm not going' don't you understand? Hey! Stop that!" Ron swats Neville's hands as he reaches for the buttons. "I can take my shirt off myself, you know."
"Sure you can, but it wouldn't be nearly this fun. And look, it dribbled onto your chest."
Building up his nerve, Neville takes a deep breath and licks Ron's chest free of maple residue. His teeth wander towards a nipple, and he bites it. Ron moans. "Yep, definitely maple."
"Mhmm." Ron gives Neville a sticky kiss, nudging him against a comfy, burgundy chair. They fall in, their teeth clattering as Ron sits in Neville's lap and begins to remove his shirt.
"You can have as much maple syrup as you want, we're not going."
This is his first attempt at being coy, so Neville doesn't argue.
Two weeks later, they are both fumbling in a closet near the Great Hall. Ron makes a corny joke about it being fancy meeting him here, despite the fact the other boy dragged him down two flights of stairs and nearly elbowed Neville in the stomach trying to get there. Yet Neville has never complained about Ron being too eager.
Soon, they are pulling at each other's clothes. Ron starts sucking on Neville's bottom lip, which is plump and red by now, and all of the sudden Ron's pants are off and he's kissing those freckled thighs. He's just about to slip Ron's boxer's off when someone begins to beat on the door.
Neville doesn't think he's ever seen Snape so red in his life, nor has he ever been less frightened in front of the man.
Two years after they are out of Hogwarts, Neville and Ron live together in an apartment in London. It's kind of cramped, especially if guests stay over, but mostly it's just Harry and Hermione who visit. Dean does sometimes too, and they reminisce about their Hogwarts days and how simple everything was when they were just teenagers and not out on the battle lines. Neville whistles to himself as he waters the plants, and he likes to thinks the others would visit too if they were still alive. Poor Seamus, poor Lavender, he thinks.
It's late July, and Neville's birthday, so when he walks into their quaint little kitchen he sees a note and chocolate cake. Happy 19th birthday, Neville. I'll be home from the Ministry late tonight, but I baked dessert myself. Don't worry. - Ron It takes nearly all of Neville's willpower not to eat that cake, but he doesn't.
Ron comes home around eight, with a batch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Firework Candles. Neville greets him with a chaste kiss, and they go into the kitchen. Ron is eager to test the candles, so they skip straight to pudding. Knowing his brothers, Ron insists on using a cupcake for the candles first. He conjures one up, but Neville wishes they would just cut to the cake. The candles light fine, but explode as soon as someone attempts to blow them out. Perhaps a test wasn't a bad idea, Neville thinks.
Instead, Neville hunches over a cake with blue, waxy Muggle candles that appeared out of nowhere. Well, not from nowhere probably, but Neville has never been good at Transfiguration, so he wouldn't know much about it.
"Go ahead, wish for something." Neville doesn't believe in wishes, but anything for Ron. He smiles sweetly, and pretends to be thinking happy thoughts when he's really pondering over something deep.
Neville's wish is more than three words, it's seven, but later that day, he uses those three words for the very first time and with them an unusual feeling is released, as though a large weight has been lifted off his chest, and his brain is buzzing. So he says it again. And again, and again.
When Neville says I love you it always feels like the first time.