I suppose time really does change everything, Ron thought as he stood in front of the fireplace in the living room of his flat. His lover of over a year, Draco Malfoy, had invited him to spend the night at the Manor. Finally. Though they'd been to Ron's flat at least a million times each time Ron had suggested they go to Draco's childhood "home," Draco would make a face like he'd just eaten a pumpkin pasty that had gone rancid.


"I'm just not ready for you to see that part of my life, Ron," he'd reasoned. "Dark things went on there...I don't even like to think about it. You and I -- this is the first genuinely good thing I've had in a long time; I don't want to ruin it."

"It's just a house, Draco." Ron took Draco's hands and kissed his palms. "I don't see how a house could change things between us, not after all this time. It's ridiculous!"

"It may be ridiculous to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. And since it's my house, I win. Look, ugly things went on there after Mother died. Things that I participated in willingly...I don't want you to know about that. I don't want it to change your opinion of me."

"It won't change anything. I'll always think you're a great git." Draco had fought a smile at that. "Listen, Draco. I hated you for most of my young life. Did you know I thought you were a vampire when I was kid? You were all pale and pointy and...evil...I kept waiting for you to sprout fangs and fly. Everything you were and said and did was ugly."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better, Ronald."

Ron rolled his eyes. "What I'm saying is that I don't care about the past. Blimey, if I did, you and I...well, there'd be no you and I, would there? What's important is that you came 'round. You figured it all out for yourself, and came 'round to our side."

"I suppose."

"Right. Now, come 'round to my side. Let's warm you up while we wait for that heating charm to kick in."


Ron was at home one Saturday morning, tinkering with his latest Muggle coffeemaker -- he'd had the worst luck with those damned things. He knew that he could have just charmed the stupid thing to work, but he got a certain sense of accomplishment from repairing things with his own hands; he supposed it was trait he'd inherited from his father.

He was in the middle of removing the basket for the coffee grounds when Ron heard something moving behind him. He turned and wiped his forehead, smearing a few used coffee grounds across his face and getting some in his eye.

"Bollocks!" Ron swore, rubbing his eye with his reasonably ground-free hand. Still muttering, he carefully opened his good eye and focused on Tanis, Draco's Eurasian Tawny. The owl had perched herself on his kitchen table and looked positively grumpy.

"What are you doing here this time of day? Normally you're asleep about now," Ron said, wondering what she'd brought. Tanis hooted and turned slightly, and Ron could see a scroll attached to her leg, tied with a silver ribbon.

Draco would sometimes send Tanis to Ron with messages in the wee hours of morning. Typically, it was correspondence that was so explicit sexually it left Ron with little choice but to take out his cock where he stood and pull himself off, thinking about the delicious scenarios Draco had written about.

One particularly graphic letter had made Ron so horny he'd barely gotten his cock out of his pants before he'd come, hot and slippery, all over his fingers. He took a shower to clean up and thought about the letter while he was soaping himself, which only served to make him hard again.

Ron had leaned against the shower wall and stroked his cock, taking in the way the veins felt beneath his soapy fingers. Using the palm of his hand, he'd rubbed slow circles against the head, and then curled his fingers around the shaft, making short strokes that would come up just over the ridge and then back again. Ron had turned his face in toward the cool tile and moaned aloud, sliding his free hand between his thighs and cradling his sac. He groaned again and began thrusting faster into his hand, and with each stroke, Ron slid the pad of his thumb against the head and pressed it against the slit.

Ron's vision had become fuzzy as he felt himself disconnect from reality. He panted into the tile as he stroked himself, imaging what Draco had written to him about. In Ron's mind, Draco was on his knees with his lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him hard and fast -- the way he always did when he was trying to get Ron off quickly. Ron had pushed his hips forward, imagining he was fucking Draco's mouth in earnest and pulling at his hair. Draco moaned at the touch and looked up at Ron, somehow managing to smile around his cock.

The image was more than Ron could take. He'd started thrusting into his hand so hard that it would have burned if he hadn't been so far gone, and then he was coming, his semen spilling over his fingers as he'd groaned into the humid air. Ron slumped against the shower wall and let the water rinse him off while he squeezed the base of his cock, forcing out the last few drops. Once he could breathe normally again, he'd stumbled out of the shower and dried himself off with a towel, leaving it on the floor. He padded into his bedroom, flopped onto the bed naked and, exhausted from coming twice in quick succession, promptly passed out.

Many of Ron's nights alone had ended that way: snoring softly on his bed with his cock spent and dreaming of Draco.

Brought back to the presence by Tanis' mournful hooting, Ron refocused on Draco's owl. Normally he would have been more than happy to see Tanis, but Ron was a bit concerned by her appearance now. Draco was a night person, and the fact that the owl was there during the day made Ron worry that there was some sort of emergency. He untied the scroll from her leg and read it:

Everything is ready. Come to the Manor at six o'clock this evening. For the night.


Ron breathed a small sigh of relief and reached for his quill on the counter. Unfortunately, his vision was still a bit blurry from the coffee grounds mishap, and he nearly fell over his Muggle toolbox. Cursing his large feet, Ron snatched up the quill and scrawled a quick reply:

Will be there. Wild hippogriffs couldn't keep me away.

What's ready?


He tied the note to Tanis' leg with the same ribbon, gave her a bit of bacon and sent her off. Ron read and re-read the note, but it always came down to the same thing: Draco was inviting him to the Manor. Ron supposed that he'd finally plucked up the courage to bring him to his home, ghosts of Lucius, Narcissa and whatever other Malfoy might be lurking about be damned.

Ron was excited about the invitation, but he was also surprised, given Draco's apprehension about the whole "evil history of the Manor" thing he'd gone on about. A bundle of questions tumbled around in Ron's head, but he knew better than to ask them right now. This invitation was obviously a big step for Draco, and Ron figured that the fewer questions he asked about it, the better.

Ron pulled his overnight satchel from his closet and headed into the bathroom to grab a few things. He switched on the shower and let the water warm up while he looked at himself in the mirror. Ron blew out a puff of air, making his fringe float upward momentarily.

"Tonight?" Ron asked his reflection. Am I really ready for this?

Well, you won't know until you try, his inner voice replied.

"Good point." He said aloud. "I'm gonna do it."

Are you really sure?

"Yes! Yes. Well, I think so. Maybe?"

Well, since you're absolutely certain, the inner voice quipped.

"Oh, shut up."

After he was done with his shower, Ron fussed over what he was going to wear. He finally settled on a simple blue tailored shirt and navy-coloured trousers, remembering that Draco seemed to really like him in blue. He didn't worry that it looked a bit rumpled. Knowing Malfoy, he thought, it'll all just end up in a pile on the floor anyways.

Malfoy? No. Draco. He'd stopped being "Malfoy" long ago, hadn't he?


If anyone had asked either of them for their opinion, they would have known that both Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy would have preferred to sit to tea and biscuits with Argus Filch, the basilisk, or even the Dark Lord than be partnered with each other. As they weren't asked, the longtime enemies were forced to work alongside each other in the Order during the war -- some rot about Malfoy's coolness under pressure and Weasley's tactical skills making them well-suited to work together on reconnaissance missions.

Although they were now fighting on the same side as Malfoy had joined the Order shortly after his mother had passed away, there was no denying that the two still hated one another, trading nasty faces and insults every time they were around each other. As time passed, hate gradually softened to a sort of mutual annoyance. After all, conversations consisting of essentially, "You're poor and freckled!" and, "You're slimy and pointy!" can get tiring after a while. Ron had also started to form a different opinion of Malfoy than he'd held in school.

Ron suspected that Malfoy admired the fact that he could think on his feet and could be fairly devious when the need arose, not that he'd ever have admitted it. The closest the little git had ever come to giving Ron any sort of credit was, "Thanks for not getting us killed, Weasley." It was a comment typical of Malfoy, but it was laced with something almost genuine.

Ron didn't know why he cared what Malfoy thought of him. Hermione would probably say it had something to do with feelings of inadequacy that he'd had for most of his life and this was him looking for validation. Or some such rubbish.

He'd also found that while Malfoy was an insufferable git, he was a bloody smart insufferable git, and he'd probably saved Ron's skinny arse more times than he wanted to admit. There was the time the pair had stumbled upon a small rogue group of Death Eaters on a path though the woods after purchasing supplies for headquarters. Draco's sharp eyes spotted a ditch by the riverbank and, drawing his wand, he'd ordered Ron to hide in it. He wanted to stay behind and "teach them a lesson."

Ron thought that was the looniest thing he'd ever heard, and he'd had his fair share of conversations with Luna Lovegood, so he pulled Draco into the ditch with him before the Death Eaters spotted them. The space was a narrow one, and Ron landed on his back with Draco on top of him. They lay completely still, not wanting to breathe for fear of being discovered. Ron tried to convince himself that the only reason his skin was tingling was because he feared for his life. It had absolutely nothing to do with his body being pressed that close to Malfoy's. Nothing at all.

When they weren't falling into ditches or dodging Unforgivables or other particularly nasty curses, Ron and Draco had taken to playing chess. While Draco was no slouch at the game, his ability to think ahead and plan accordingly was no match for Ron's, and Draco had lost every game they'd played. Ron couldn't deny the satisfaction he'd gotten from beating the Slytherin on a regular basis.

He could deny, however, ever entertaining the idea that Draco seemed to be staring at his mouth when they played. Ron cast off the idea as nonsense and reckoned that he must have had something on his face. Yes. That was it. Licking at his lips didn't appear to get rid of it though -- when he'd tried that, Draco's eyes sort of glazed over, a bit like he was daydreaming. It was really no wonder he'd always beaten him, Ron figured. Draco's head wasn't in the game.

Eventually, the less nasty faces andalmost good-natured barbs exchanged between them became a constant in Ron's life; it was something he could rely on, whether he recognised it or not. It was safe, and more importantly, it was familiar. In times like those, when everything one knew and trusted was turned upside-down or beaten or obliterated, one tended to cling desperately to what was familiar.

It was that desperation that had pushed Ron into an ill-fated romance with Hermione. Emotionally broken over the losses of friends and loved ones, they sought solace in each other's friendship and tried to fill the voids left behind by turning it into something more.

It was a qualified disaster, punctuated by fumbling attempts at intimacy that left both of them uncomfortable and unfulfilled. Ron wouldn't give up though, trying desperately to create that spark that one was supposed to feel when in love; the fire in the pit of one's belly that was supposed to make one feel sick and unsure and deliriously happy all at once. Or at least, that's what Ginny said it had felt like, and considering the way she and Harry were always kissing and groping one another, he'd figured she must've been onto something. Ron was sure he'd feel it too; he and Hermione just weren't trying hard enough.

But Hermione, being Hermione, was the first to accept that, while they loved each other dearly, they made much better friends than lovers, and ended their romantic endeavour. Ron wanted to be devastated, if for no other reason than to have had it all mean something. In the end though, the only thing he could bring himself to feel was immense relief.

Meanwhile, Ron's other constant, Draco "Insufferable Git" Malfoy, was quietly falling apart. When news that Lucius Malfoy had been killed arrived at the camp, the reactions were mixed. Some vocally celebrated his death, while others kept the feelings to themselves, trying to spare the junior Malfoy if only a little grief.

Lucius had been a real bastard, and the world was a far better place with him dead, in Ron's opinion. The man was made of evil -- if someone looked up the word in a dictionary, Ron was certain that there'd be a picture of Lucius by the definition, spewing something nasty about Muggles and Muggle-born wizards .

Ron supposed that Draco, being his son, would know that better than anyone; so he couldn't understand why he was so miserable. Lucius had even attempted to disown Malfoy after he'd learned that he'd switched sides. As far as Ron was concerned, that should have been the last straw for the junior Malfoy. Why would anyone mourn somebody that chose to believe you'd never existed? Ron just couldn't wrap his brain around any of it, and the whole thing had begun to nag at him.

He noticed that Malfoy wasn't coming outside; not even after the sun had gone down, which Ron knew to be his favourite time of day. Ron would ask around as casually as he could manage if Malfoy had been out, only to be told "no" or given a shrug that seemed to say, "Should I care?" The only reason Ron knew that he was still alive was because he'd caught glimpses of him leaving the bathroom and going back to his quarters. Not that he was stalking him or anything.

Ron began to feel out of sorts -- going for longer than a day without an argument with Malfoy just wasn't natural. He didn't like to think of him having that much of an impact on his life -- it said way too much about his feelings about Malfoy, and Ron would've just as soon preferred to pretend that those didn't exist. More importantly, it was upsetting his comfortable routine, and Ron resolved to do something about it.

Exactly what in the hell that meant, he'd no idea.

Four days after receiving the news about Lucius, Ron spotted Draco coming out of his room and was shocked at how angular he looked... even more so than usual. His chest seized at the sight of Malfoy's naked and pale torso, but that was only because of how skinny he was. That's all.

Ron decided to bring Draco something to eat. He made his way to Draco's quarters, armed with a bowl of soup that was really nothing more than hot salt water -- one of the staples of the Keep You Thin and Twitchy Order diet, as he liked to call it. Ron balanced the bowl in the crook of his arm and peered into the tent, pushing the flap open a bit. Draco sat on his cot with his head down and his knees to his chest, absently rubbing at his fingers. He started slightly at the tent opening, but did not look up. "Go 'way," he muttered.

Ron took a deep breath and went in anyway. "Come on, Malfoy. You've got to eat something; you're no good to me emaciated."

Draco looked up at the sound of Ron's voice. "'Emaciated?' Big word for you, isn't it, Weasley? I wasn't aware that you owned a dictionary, let alone read it."

Ron put the bowl of soup on a nearby side table inside -- he'd managed to make it this far without spilling it, but he didn't want to push his luck. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his attention back to Draco. Ron could see that he'd been crying, but decided not to mention it. This was the most Malfoy had said in the last several days and he'd rather missed it. The banter, not Malfoy. Right. Instead of launching into an argument, he chose to play along with Draco.

"Oh sure! I managed to scrape one out of a rubbish bin while I was panhandling one afternoon. Once I peeled off the spoiled potato skins, it was in surprisingly good shape. Also found a pair of shoes that day. Look," he said, pushing his foot forward to show off one much worn trainer, "they very nearly fit!"

Draco couldn't help but laugh out loud at Ron, tilting his head to the side as his hair fell away from his eyes. A warm, jittery feeling crept into Ron's belly at the sound of Draco's laughter and he squashed it flat.

Draco gestured to a spot next to him on the cot. "Well? You've come all this way with that bloody awful swill they have the audacity to refer to as 'edible.' You may as well come and sit down and keep me company."

"Well..." Ron replied, feeling rather nervous and trying his best not to look it.

"I'd offer you a chair if I'd had one. Don't worry, I won't bite. Here, give me that." Draco took the bowl and blew into it, trying to cool down the soup. Ron gulped as he watched Draco pucker his lips and that quivery feeling bubbled up in his stomach again.

Ron took a seat beside him, and they sat in silence for several moments, which steadily drove Ron mad. Growing up in such a large family, Ron wasn't used to silence, and it had always put him ill at ease. Considering the churning in his stomach, the last thing he needed was to feel more ill. Somebody needed to say something and fast. He swallowed thickly and bit the bullet.

"H-how are you holding up, Malfoy?'

Draco dropped his spoon back into the bowl and rubbed some soup from his upper lip with his sleeve. He turned to face Ron, glaring at him. "Smashing," he snarled. "How do you think I'm doing?! If you'd lost both of your parents, not to mention every-bloody-one else in your family, how do you think you'd be holding up?" Draco's cheeks flushed bright pink and his hands balled up into tight fists.

Ron couldn't recall a time when Draco had been so visibly shaken. Draco wasn't particularly known for displays of emotion; his reaction was frightening and Ron wasn't prepared to handle it. He flinched and distanced himself at Draco's voice, and he wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and pretend he'd never been there.

"I'm sorry. I just— I don't know what I was thinking, I just thought I'd check on you. That was a bloody stupid question. Look, I... I'm sorry about your father, Malfoy." Ron started to stand up.

Draco reached out, resting his hand on Ron's forearm. He was shaking slightly. "No. Don't go. I mean...I...thank you. You're the only person to say, well, much of anything about any of it. Don't leave."

"Erm...okay." Ron sat back down and looked away from Draco, suddenly finding the small hole in the knee of his trousers utterly fascinating. Draco's hand was still on his forearm and the spot felt as though someone held a flame to it. The skin prickled and very nearly burned, and Ron wanted to scratch at it. Instead, he held his hands in his lap, wringing them. He'd felt the stirrings of what promised to be the hardest erection of his young adult life, and he had to get out of there. But Malfoy was finally talking; he couldn't just pick up and run now. He was a Weasley, after all.

"It was a bloody stupid question Weasley, but I've come to expect that from you." Draco gave Ron a small teasing smile at that. "I apologise for blowing up like that. It's just...I'm alone, Weasley, in every sense of the word. Mother and Father are both gone and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't have a place to go once this is all over. He'd disowned me, you know." Draco moved his hand from Ron's forearm, letting his fingers trail along the knobby cables of yarn in Ron's jumper.

Ron swallowed hard and choked out, "Yeah. I'd heard about that. Listen, you're not alone, Malfoy. I mean, obviously we've never been mates, but we are partners and... Well, I'm here, for whatever good it does you."

Before he could think better of it, Ron put his arm around Draco's shoulder. It was something his father used to do when he wanted to say something that might make things seem a little brighter, but didn't know just where to begin. Surprised by his own gesture, Ron moved to pull his arm away, but Draco had settled into the half-embrace and rested his head against Ron's shoulder. Ron had to swallow again as he tried to slow down his heart's thundering in his chest.

"Erm, Malfoy?" Ron shifted uncomfortably and turned his head to look down at Draco. "What are you doing?"

Draco closed his eyes and shifted closer, shaking his head. His breath came out in short, warm puffs against Ron's neck. "I don't know. I'm not going to think about it. And I'm not going to think about this either."

"Think about w-what?" Ron's voice cracked.

"This." Draco lifted his head slightly and pressed his lips to Ron's, sliding his hands up Ron's chest.

Ron couldn't move for a moment, and he'd wondered if Draco had silently cast a Freezing Charm on him. The mere churning in his stomach had escalated to all-out spinning as Draco's delicate hands inched closer to his neck. Ron moved his own hands to his sides and gathered small bits of Draco's blanket into his sweaty palms. His body twisted and jerked, but he couldn't break away from Draco's touch.

Perhaps that's because you're pressing into him instead of away, his inner voice offered.

Oh, you just shut up, he thought back.

Ron leaned backward, as though he was trying to pull away, but Draco clutched at Ron's jumper and tightened his hold, slipping his tongue across Ron's lips.

And then Ron's brain short circuited.

The bowl toppled off of Draco's lap, making a loud clatter and dumping soup out onto the floor. Draco's hands skittered up into Ron's hair and tugged as he pulled them both down onto his cot. Ron whimpered in pain, but forgot it quickly as he focused on the hot, slick twist of Draco's tongue in his mouth. Draco whined, pushing his hand down into Ron's trousers and reaching for his cock with eager fingers. Ron sighed into Draco's mouth and reached down, clumsily trying to unfasten his own trousers and get his pants down and out of the bloody way. It was awkward and uncoordinated and, Ron suspected, completely unsexy, but it all felt absolutely brilliant anyway, so he didn't care. Judging by the way Draco writhed and bucked and moaned underneath him, Ron reckoned that he didn't give a toss either.

Draco tilted his head back, panting and licking his kiss-bruised lips. Ron took the opportunity to sink his teeth into Draco's slim neck and sucked hard. Draco hissed and knotted his fingers into Ron's hair, yanking his head back up. Ron looked frantically at Draco's face for any sign that he wanted to stop, all the while praying that he wouldn't find it, because Ron didn't think he could stop now.

"That hurtyou clod," Draco growled, kissing Ron hard on the mouth. He slid his hands down between them, unfastening his own trousers and pulling his cock free from its confines. Draco arched upward, biting Ron's lower lip and rubbing their erections against one another. "By Salazar...wanted this...you...so long..." he managed to breathe out between kisses.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach turned a triple somersault. It was already too much that this was happening, but to know that Draco had actually thought about it, well...that was... No, he couldn't think about that right now.

All Ron could think about was this thing happening between him and Draco, and how right it all felt. Draco nipped at his neck and Ron groaned at the shiver that traveled down his spine before settling, warm and heavy, at its base. Ron opened his eyes to find Draco staring up at him, breathing hard through his mouth. There were no words, only the beating of their hearts pressed against one another.

Ron felt something coiling in the pit of his stomach; he shivered involuntarily and swallowed hard. His heart tripped a beat and he recognized that this was it -- the spark he had searched for; that he'd needed so desperately. Ginny had been right. All at once, Ron felt as though he might throw up or pass out or sprout wings and fly. His heart hurt and burned as it tried to hammer its way out of his chest, and Ron was on the verge of panic. It was at that moment Draco whispered simply, "Ron..." against his lips.

Ron stopped thinking altogether.


Ron's watch beeped, interrupting his memories. He glanced down at his semi-erect cock straining against his trousers and laughed. "Down, boy. Be patient -- we'll be there in a minute." He adjusted his satchel, scooped up a handful of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantle and stepped into the empty fireplace.

"Malfoy Manor!" he announced, throwing the powder at his feet and disappearing in a puff of smoke.


Ron arrived in the fireplace in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, stumbling out backwards and nearly tripping over his large feet. His arms pinwheeled wildly as Ron tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his balance.

"Way to go, grace." Draco had slipped in behind him and pressed his chest to Ron's back, catching him before he fell on the floor. "Hello, there tall, pale and freckled. Ron, I swear, you've all the elegance of a drunken giraffe."

"Oh, I just love it when you talk sweet to me," Ron rolled his eyes.

Draco scoffed. "It took you long enough to get here."

Ron looked at his watch. "I'm only three minutes late, Draco."

"Three minutes too long for my liking. I've been waiting for you to come and make your presence felt, so to speak." He nipped at Ron's earlobe and moved his hands around to Ron's chest, Draco's finely-boned fingers making their way downward until they came to the front of Ron's trousers and pressed lightly at the bulge there.

"Merlin, Draco. I just got here...aren't you going to take me for a tour or something?" Ron's heart pounded in his chest and he could feel the blood draining away from his limbs and settling in his cock. He was trying to keep some semblance of self-restraint, but failing miserably. He knew that he'd never stood a chance, really, but he wasn't about to let Draco know that. "We've got all night."

"Exactly. Why should we let any of that precious time go to waste?" Draco moved out from behind Ron and stood in front of him. Ron's eyes roamed over Draco's body, taking in his appearance. His fine hair hung at his shoulders; apparently Draco had opted against using his hair gel that night, which suited Ron just fine as he loved the way Draco's hair felt between his fingers without any added goop.

Draco was dressed simply in a crisp white, partially buttoned shirt, black trousers and no shoes. He looked perfect as always, not to mention severely shaggable. Ron opened his mouth to tell him so, but Draco had closed the space between them and kissed him, slipping his tongue between Ron's parted lips. Draco slid his bare foot up and under the hem of Ron's trousers and ran the pads of his toes against Ron's shin. "Merlin, I've missed you," he breathed into Ron's ear.

Ron's body reacted instinctively. His erection had swelled to its full potential, making the front of his trousers tighten almost painfully. He gave up on playing hard to get and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pulling him hard against his chest.

"And I'll bet you just can't waitto show me how much, yeah?" Ron picked up Draco, who wrapped his legs around his waist. "Tell you what -- lead me to the bedroom and you can point out stuff on the way. Deal?"

"Deal." Draco nodded, leaning forward and nipping Ron's chin.

Ron was only able to really stop in one of the Manor on the way to Draco's bedroom -- the parlour. Draco made him stop there to get two glasses of scotch. This was quite the manoeuver, since Draco wouldn't let Ron put him down long enough to pour the alcohol.


After gulping down their drinks, Ron walked Draco over to the bed and eased him down on the deep green spread. Draco had managed to sit the glasses on the table only seconds before Ron straddled him, opening Draco's shirt and licking a wet line up the center of his exposed chest. Ron pulled the shirt off completely before tossing it away, pausing a moment to take in the sight of Draco's pale, flawless skin. Ron smoothed the pads of his fingers against Draco's flat pink nipples and Draco bucked his hips and mewled.

Ron had always enjoyed foreplay, but with Draco it was particularly rewarding to draw it out because he was so damned impatient. Even though they had been lovers for some time, Ron couldn't resist an opportunity to torment his former enemy, and past experience had taught him that there was no more rewarding way to do that than sexually.

Having heard the familiar whine in Draco's voice, Ron was satisfied that he'd properly teased him enough to move on to other things. Ron lifted himself off of Draco and stood up again, pushing Draco's legs apart and kneeling on the floor between them. Ron lifted slightly to kiss his way down Draco's torso, stopping to breathe hotly against his navel while he unfastened the belt buckle and the buttons on Draco's trousers. He pulled them off, taking Draco's pants along with them, and ran his tongue along the length of Draco's cock.

Ron stood and began slowly to unbutton his shirt, partly because his fingers were trembling, but mostly because he knew that it would drive Draco mad. He looked down at Draco and arched his eyebrow as if to challenge him. Draco reacted predictably, sitting up and ripping Ron's shirt open; buttons flew off in all directions and popped against the walls. He leaned forward into Ron's stomach, licking and biting at his skin. Without pulling away, Draco unfastened Ron's trousers and pulled them down around his thighs, along with his pants. Ron stepped back and took off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and finished removing his trousers and pants, pushing the troublesome articles off to the side.

Draco looped his arms around Ron's waist and grabbed at his buttocks, pulling Ron toward him. He wrapped his lips around Ron's cock and swallowed him, flicking his tongue against the hard shaft, and then he pulled back, scraping his teeth against it. Ron groaned at being sucked into Draco's soft, hot mouth, and shoved his hands into Draco's hair. He pulled back hard, trying to slow Draco's pace -- the last thing he wanted tonight was to come too soon -- but Draco shook his head and fought against Ron's pulling. Instead he sucked at Ron's cock even harder and increased his grip on Ron's arse, refusing to let him back away. Ron could feel his skin prickling as his orgasm began to build, and he gripped Draco's hair again, forcibly pulling him off of his cock.

"Aww...no fair," Draco said, looking up at Ron and licking his lips.

"Merlin! Draco, you've got to slow it down. I'm going to explode if you keep that up!" Ron managed.

"And that's a problem? What'd you expect me to do? I haven't seen you in ages."

"A week. It's only been a week, Draco."

"Precisely. Ages. I'm just making up for lost time." He dipped his tongue into Ron's navel. "Besides," Draco continued, "ours has never exactly been the 'let's take things nice and slow' kind of relationship, has it?"

"Heh. I 'spose not."

"Right. I'm far too impatient for all that rot." Draco cocked an eyebrow, and gave Ron's cock a rather hard yank.

"Ow! Fuck, Draco! What are you trying to do? Take it with you?!"

Draco put on a coy smile and fluttered his lashes. "If only I could. I'm sorry, pet. What can I say? You awaken the wanton beast lurking inside me." Ron folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow in response. Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Ah, so you require proof? Here, allow me to demonstrate."

Draco pulled himself back up on the bed and rested on his back, leaning over and picking up a phial of lubricant from his bedside table drawer. He spread his legs wide and bent his knees while he held the phial between his palms, warming it. Draco poured some of the gel onto his index and middle fingers, and then pressed them to his entrance, making small circles over the puckered flesh. He shifted a bit and slowly pushed his middle finger inside. Draco wriggled his finger, stretching himself a bit, and then slid his index finger inside as well, moaning softly at the pressure. He lifted his head toward Ron and gazed at him through hooded lids as he moved his other hand up his torso and rubbed the pads of his fingers over his nipples, stimulating them until they were hard. Draco pulled at his left nipple and he arched his back, inhaling deeply.

Ron had to swallow a whimper at the sight of Draco pleasuring himself. As he watched Draco push his fingers in and out of his arse, Ron thought about what Draco was feeling -- warm, smooth, wet flesh gripping against his fingers, finding that spot inside that would make his body quake if he brushed against it just so. Almost without realising it, Ron had taken his own erection in hand and began stroking it while he watched Draco's cock bob softly against his smooth stomach. Ron used his other hand to gently knead his sac while he pulled at himself. He started to sway a bit, giving himself over to the delicious sensations he was experiencing.

"Oh God, Ron...you see? Do you...do you see what you make...me do?"

"Y-yes. Fuck, Draco..." Ron choked out.

"Yes. Fuck Draco indeed." Draco nodded his head toward his erection. "Please, Ron. Touch me. Need you to fuck me."

Ron had to squeeze his eyes shut and pull hard on his sacs to keep from coming at Draco's words; there had been times when Draco's voice alone was nearly enough to bring Ron off and he reckoned it was a bloody miracle that he didn't lose it then and there. Looking down at his lover in front of him, naked and open, Ron licked his lips and thought about how easy it would be to give in to Draco's pleading. In his mind, Ron could see himself pressing his body into Draco's, pulling Draco's legs up over his shoulders and sinking himself into that slick, clutching heat.

No. Ron shook his head. That's not what he had in mind for tonight.

Well, at least not right now.

"Ron..." Draco demanded. "Come on."

"You're so impatient, Draco. Actually, I have something planned. Accio bag!" Ron caught his overnight satchel by its strap as it sailed by, then set it on the floor and began rummaging though it. "Aha!" he shouted triumphantly, pulling out three grey silk scarves. "Alright. Now, just relax, okay?" Before Draco could protest, Ron climbed back on the bed and straddled Draco again, using two of the scarves to tie Draco's wrists to the bedposts. Next he lifted Draco's head and blindfolded him with the third.

Draco jerked and bucked in protest, but his strength was no match for Ron's and he gave up. Ron knew Draco could have easily released himself with a spell, but it seemed that Draco was curious to find out where Ron was going with this, and Draco appeared to relax somewhat.

"Hmm. Delving into the kinky, Ronald? Whatever brought this on?" Draco asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Oh, just thought I'd try something new." Ron sat up and shuddered when his erection grazed against Draco's. Taking a deep breath, Ron tugged at the scarves around Draco's wrists to make sure they would hold. Confident that Draco wouldn't try to free himself, Ron lay down at his side.

Watching Draco squirm and pull at his restraints, Ron resolved to tie Draco up more often. It was quite a treat to see him bound and know that he'd be at Ron's mercy; he grinned at the possibilities. Draco started to kick his legs, and Ron ran his finger against the skin on his thigh, tracing lazy circles as he headed down to Draco's knee, then back up along the inside of his thigh. He was pleased to find Draco's skin was already damp with sweat.

"Ron, what are you playing at?" Draco growled.

"You'll just have to wait and see. Oh wait. You can't see, can you?" Ron snorted. "Well, at any rate, you'll have to be patient, Draco."

"Grr. You know how much I loathe waiting."

"Exactly. That's what makes this such brilliant fun!" Ron laughed out loud.

"I don't know why I put up with you, Ronald Weasley. I truly don't," Draco sighed.

"Because I always make it worth your while in the end," Ron replied.

Ron pressed a kiss to Draco's eyelids above the slick fabric and another to the tip of Draco's nose. Moving to his lips, Ron pulled Draco's upper lip between his teeth and then ran his tongue across it to soothe the sting. Draco flicked out his tongue, catching only the tip of Ron's as he pulled away; Draco whimpered at the brief contact.

Ron knew that he was probably driving Draco insane with his soft kisses and slow licks, but he didn't change his tactics. Their trysts could have been described in several ways, but "gentle" wasn't often one of them. They didn't have rough sex, exactly -- neither Ron nor Draco was into it --but it certainly wasn't usually slow and deliberate like this.

Ron could be an impatient lover, and even though he'd sort of planned this whole thing out, his body still buzzed with the desire to toss this whole seduction bit and just pounce on Draco and fuck him into sometime next week. Then he saw Draco bite his lower lip, a sure sign that he was nervous, and Ron knew he had the upper hand. He figured that he might not get this opportunity again, so he'd do well to capitalise on it now.

With that, Ron kept up his slow and steady wins the race tack, taking languid licks of Draco's throat and scraping his nails against his thighs and hips. Ron pressed his lips against Draco's stomach and licked wide, wet lines on his skin. He smiled at Draco's twitching as he nuzzled his way into his pubic hair and breathed, hot and wet, against the musky skin.

Draco shivered at the random sensations and moaned desperately. "Please, Ron. Stop teasing!"

Ron looked up at his lover and smirked. "I could stop altogether, you know."

Draco snapped his head up from the pillow. "No! No, please don't stop. Please."


Ron had never heard Draco sound so desperate before, and he knew that he was on the right track. Draco's cock was dark pink, jerky and ridiculously hard; it looked almost painful, and Ron considered giving in. Well, he almost considered it, anyway. He snickered as Draco strained his hips upward, eager to make some kind of contact. Ron pressed his arms on Draco's thighs in an attempt to hold him still. "Merlin, Draco! Hold still, will you?!" he laughed, intentionally breathing directly on the head of Draco's cock.

"I'm trying, but you're taking forever! Stop messing about and do something!" Draco yelled back at him.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, since you asked so nicely." Ron took Draco's cock in one hand and traced the veins with his fingertips. "You know," he said innocently, "as many times as I've seen your cock, I don't think I've ever really looked at it. It really is lovely -- the way it curves here and the tiny dip right there...oh! Did you know you have a birthmark or a freckle or something underneath here? It's shaped sort of like a --"

"First of all, Malfoys don't have freckles," Draco drawled "Secondly, I couldn't care less if it has maroon and gold stripes at this point, just...gah!...Do something with it!"

"But it's so cute, Draco...like a little crescent moon --"


"Ack! Way to spoil the mood, Draco. You sound like my mum! Sheesh. I mean, I was just enjoying the view."

"The view?! But?! Nnnngh?!" Draco whimpered again, wriggling his hips from side to side.

"Oh alright. Just...hang on a tic, yeah?"

Ron sat up, reached over to the glass on the end table and pulled an ice cube from it. He put it in his mouth against the inside of his cheek, then lowered his head and wrapped his lips around the head of Draco's cock, pushing the small ice cube along the ridge.

"Bloodyfuckinghell!" Draco screamed out loud, pushing his cock into Ron's mouth as far as he could manage, nearly forcing the cube of ice down Ron's throat.

Ron jerked away and spit out the cube before he could choke on it. "Merlin, Draco! Are you trying to kill me?!"

"Well, after this is all over, I just might! You might warn a bloke that you're about to ice his fucking willy!"

"Yes, I might..." Ron agreed, sitting back up and straddling Draco again. He leaned over Draco's right side briefly and then sat back up. Ron shifted forward on Draco's lap and they both hissed when their erections slid against each other again.

Draco raised his head and smirked in Ron's general direction. "Ohhhh...now that is more like it. Glad to see you've finally caught on."

"I wasn't finished, you arse." Ron took hold of Draco's cock and began to pull at it roughly.

"Also glad to know that you're not finished with my arse -- ohhh!" Moaning and thrusting into Ron's grip, Draco's head fell back and turned to the side; he rubbed his face against his shoulder.

"I see that shut you up. Now, what I was going to say was, 'Yes, I could have told you what I was about to do, but...then it w-wouldn't have been...mmph...a surprise...'"

"Hmph. I don't like surprises, particularly those involving ice-- Ron, what are you doing?" Ron saw that Draco managed to raise an eyebrow, even with the blindfold.

"Nnngh...what do you...m-mean?"

"Just what I said. What are you doing? You're...you're grunting...A-are you wanking?! Because that's not at all fair! Especially if I can't watch," Draco pouted.

"No, I'm n-not wanking...don't be daft! I'm...I'm being...rrrah...spontaneous, Draco. Now shut up and let me con...concentrate."

"On what? Killing me by withholding sex? I--" Draco stopped short at the feeling of wet fingers grazing his sac. "Wha...?"

"Shh..." Ron managed as he lifted himself up, taking Draco's erection and holding it upright. He couldn't help but grin as Draco bit his lip again, a confused look on his face. Ron licked his lips and muttered something under his breath. Exhaling deeply through his mouth, Ron braced his other hand on Draco's chest and lowered himself onto Draco's cock. The pain was almost unbearable, but Ron was determined to see this through; he fought the instinct to lift himself off of Draco and instead pushed down further on his lover's cock.

"Ron, what are you sa-- fuck! Oh Merlin, Ron...w-what are you doing?"

"Well," whispered Ron, who was trying to focus on his breathing, "I'd hope that'd be obvious, Draco. I'm...nnngh...riding...y-you...but you n-never said how m-much this burns." His face contorted in pain and he rubbed his chest, pinching hard at his nipples, trying to concentrate on something other than feeling like he was being ripped in half.

"Ron...but you said...oh...that you weren't into this...that you'd never be into this...that..."

"This, that and the other. I...also s-s-said that I'd hate y-you for the rest of my life...you see how th-that turned out. I just...I changed my mind. Oh God, I don't know if I c-can do this..."

"Ron, take these off me." Draco struggled with the scarves at his wrists. "Take these off me. Let me loose...I need to see you. Please, Ron."

Ron pulled himself off of Draco's lap with a small sigh of relief and undid his bonds and blindfold. Draco sat up almost immediately, placing his hands on either side of Ron's face and capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. "Merlin, Ron. You could have told me that you wanted this. I could have prepared you...made it right...I..." He rested his forehead against Ron's and sighed heavily.

"It's already right. It's right because it's with you, Draco. I want you to know how much it means to me to be with you. I want to-- need to give myself to you. I need you inside me, Draco. But it hurts so much. And it burns and..." Ron trailed off, wincing at the thought of experiencing that pain again.

"Shh...let me." Draco pressed his palms against Ron's chest and gently pushed him backwards on the bed. He lay down flush against Ron and ran his hands along his hips, trying to soothe him.

"Now, Draco...be gentle with me." Ron licked and bit at Draco's lips, snaking his hand between their bodies and tugging at Draco's cock.

Draco smirked at the request. "I'll try, but I can't promise anything. I'm a wanton beast, remember?" He pressed his erection against Ron's thigh as if to illustrate his point. "Besides, once you've grown accustomed to it, you may not want me to go too gently." He sat up again, picking up the phial of lube he'd left on the bed and poured some onto his fingers. "Spread your legs for me, love."

Ron took a deep breath and did as he was instructed. Despite the fact that the both of them were sweating, the air was cold against his wet anus, and Ron shivered. Draco scooted forward on his knees and situated himself between Ron's thighs. Draco rubbed one finger against his entrance, and Ron's muscles tensed involuntarily. Draco leaned down and slid his hand under Ron's head, tilting it upward. "You must try and relax for this to work. I'll be as gentle as I can. Trust me, Ron." He kissed Ron on his forehead.

'Trust me, Ron.'

He did, Ron realised. At that moment, as Draco kissed down his face and slid his tongue into his mouth, and his finger into Ron's anus, Ron knew that he trusted Draco completely. Not only with his body, but with everything. He trusted him and he lo--

"Breathe, baby..." Draco whispered as he turned his finger inside of Ron and massaged the muscles tensing and struggling around him. He wrapped his other hand around Ron's leaking cock and stroked him slowly.

Ron squirmed, trying to decide whether or not he really liked the feeling of Draco's finger up his arse. It ached and it still burned a fair bit and it was just bloody weird...and he felt like he had to use the loo. Well that would just kill the mood, wouldn't it, Ron thought to himself. 'Erm, terribly sorry, Draco old chap, but I'm afraid I have to stop and have a sit-down with Mother Nature. You unders--' Ron's train of thought was derailed when he felt Draco tug at his cock and something inside of him changed. It was as though he was being pulled from the inside out and while it still felt sort of weird, it also felt sort of good and he wanted more.

"More, Draco. Please."

Draco obliged him and slipped another finger into Ron, slowly stretching him. Draco's breath came in hard, hot puffs, and Ron could tell that Draco wanted more, too. He knew from experience how difficult it was to hold back -- Ron remembered how he couldn't stop stroking himself while he'd spent what felt like hours preparing Draco the first time they'd fucked. And he remembered the embarrassment that followed when he came after only a few minutes inside of Draco. Draco had only teased him a little, and Ron had made it up to him more than once that night. He'd hoped, rather selfishly, that Draco would have more stamina than he did. Ron was really starting to enjoy the feeling of being full and he didn't want it to end for a good, long time.

"I want to make it good for you, Ron," Draco promised. He pressed his lips to Ron's neck and sucked against his pulse point. Curling his fingers inside of Ron's channel, Draco found the area around his prostate and pushed his fingertips against it. Ron keened and bucked against his body, digging his fingernails into Draco's forearms, and Draco responded by tapping his fingers against the spot.

Panting and sweating, Ron pushed himself down onto Draco's fingers. "Draco, I want you inside me. I don't want to wait anymore."

"You're not ready, Ron. Just give me a minute to--"

"I don't want to wait a minute!" Ron growled.

"Now who's the impatient one?" Draco asked as he pulled his fingers out of Ron's arse and grabbed the phial again, pouring lube into his hand and spreading it on his cock. "Are you really sure--" Draco began, and Ron looked at him as if he were considering casting the Killing Curse on him. "Alright, alright! I was just checking!" Draco eased his hand underneath Ron's hip, lifting him up from the bed a bit. With his other hand on his own cock, he positioned himself at Ron's entrance and slowly pushed in.

Ron immediately tensed again, and the pain flashed red and purple and black behind his eyes. Wincing, he turned his head away from Draco. Ron felt a tear slide down his face, across the bridge of his nose and onto his opposite cheek; he hoped that Draco hadn't noticed.

"I'm hurting you..." Draco whispered.

He noticed, Ron thought. Bollocks.

"We don't have to do this, Ron. Let me just..." Draco started to pull out, but Ron locked his thighs around his waist, holding Draco there.

"No. I don't want you to stop. If you can do this, so can I."

"Ron, now is not the time for your competitive nonsense. I know how much this hurts. It's not some bloody contest."

"That's not what I meant. It's just...if you can give yourself to me, I should be able to do the same. I..." Ron paused, swallowing hard. "I love you, Draco. There. I love you, and I don't want to stop."

Draco didn't say anything for a few moments, and Ron started to worry that he'd just made a huge mistake. Finally, Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. "Dammit, Ron. You choose now to tell me this? You realise that this makes it virtually impossible for me to argue with you, don't you?"

"Of course I do." Ron replied, a small grin on his lips.

"Dammit," Draco cursed again. "I love you too, you idiot. So much so that it can't possibly be healthy."

"You're so romantic, Draco."

"Romance is for sappy Muggle novels. Right now, I just want your arse." Draco smirked and slowly pushed forward again, evidently waiting for Ron to adjust.

Admitting to Draco that he loved him was one of the scariest things Ron had ever done, and he'd figured if he could do that, he could certainly handle this. He took a deep breath and pushed back against Draco, letting him inside a bit deeper while he wrapped his mind around the feeling of being full.

Draco sat up between Ron's thighs and stroked Ron's cock, smoothing the pad of his thumb against the head. He traced along Ron's lips with the index finger of his free hand, and Ron pulled it into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it and sucking hard.

Draco groaned at Ron's gesture and pushed deeper into him in response. Ron clenched his muscles around Draco, wanting to pull him in further, to take him in completely. Draco had been right -- now that his body had begun to adjust to being penetrated, Ron had had enough of this slow and gentle nonsense. He wanted Draco to go deeper, harder, anything -- as long as it was more. Ron wanted it all.

"All in. Go all in," Ron said.

"Yes..." Draco replied. He slowly pushed inside of Ron, filling him completely, and then held still for a moment.

Ron brought his hands up under his knees, spreading himself wider, and held his legs in the air. "Well? Where's this wanton beast you keep telling me about?" He challenged, clenching his muscles and squeezing Draco from the inside. "Fuck me, Draco"

Draco swallowed hard at the request but didn't speak. He nodded his head and began to thrust tentatively into Ron's channel.

"Draco," Ron said, "I said fuck me." Ron pushed down hard onto Draco's shaft, wincing briefly. He wanted Draco to be more aggressive and the best way he knew to get Draco there was to piss him off. "Come on, ferret. Fuck. Me."

As if on cue, Draco snarled, sliding out and then shoving himself into Ron again. He started picking up speed, arching upward just so with each thrust. "Like this, weasel? Is this what you want?"

"God, yes...oh...fucking do it..." Ron took his cock and began to pull himself off, but the snap of Draco's hips pounding into him made it difficult to find a satisfying rhythm.

Draco slapped his hand away and took hold of Ron's shaft, squeezing it at its base. "Mine," he growled, clenching his teeth. Draco then took over stroking Ron's cock in tandem with his thrusts and Ron moaned thickly.

Ron watched his lover's face as he pushed into him. Draco's fringe hung over his eyes, brushing back and forth against his forehead with each thrust. His lips were parted slightly and he kept licking at them even though they were already wet. Ron noted that Draco hadn't looked at him since he'd really started fucking him. His attention was focused much lower, where their groins were smashing together.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ron teased.

"Oh gods yes. Merlin, Ron, you're so bloody tight. You feel so good...shite. Hang on. I need to--" Draco paused, withdrawing almost entirely to squeeze more gel into his hands. He coated both of their cocks with it, and then plunged back in again. He thrust upward just as Ron tilted his hips down and Draco's cock grazed Ron's prostate, making Ron shudder and exhale loudly.

"Fuck Draco, why'd we wait so long to try this?" Ron breathed.

"Because...you were being...a...pansy...and too scared to...try," Draco teased back.

"Nnnngh...shite...oh, fuck you, Draco..."

"Later. It's still my turn." Draco pounded into Ron again and again, sliding past Ron's prostate, all the while stroking and pulling at his cock.

Ron groaned through clenched teeth; he felt like he was being fucked from the inside out, and it was so good that it was almost too much. He began playing with his nipples, rolling and twisting them between his fingers, and tossing his head frantically from side to side. Although he was shivering, Ron felt like his skin was on fire; it prickled and burned and he needed to come. "Kiss me, Draco," Ron gasped.

Draco took his hand away from Ron's cock and lay down on top of him. He did as Ron asked, kissing his way up his neck and jaw, finally sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Let it go, baby. It's alright...I've got you..."

"Draco, I need to come. Oh godplease..." Ron was nearly sobbing.

"And I want you to come. I've got you. I love you, Ron." Draco hooked his arms under Ron's shoulders and darted his tongue across his lips.

Ron yelled loudly as his orgasm hit him like a bullet. His cock twitched and jerked between their bodies and he came hard, his semen coating their stomachs, hot and wet and glorious. Ron shook all over and his breath hitched in his throat, making him gasp for air.

Ron held Draco's face in his hands and kissed his open mouth, and it proved to be Draco's undoing, as he tumbled after Ron into his own release. His hips jerked twice more before Draco moaned as he came deep inside Ron. Ron's channel was too slick to keep any real friction, and Draco's utterly spent cock slipped out easily. He collapsed onto Ron, smiling as Ron decorated his face with kisses. Draco's face was cool and damp, and Ron licked his jaw, tasting Draco's tangy-salty sweat on his tongue. Draco stifled a laugh and rolled off of Ron, lying at his side.

Draco rested his hand on Ron's chest. "Are you alright? The pain is inevitable, sadly, but I hope I made it easier to bear. I wanted it to be good for you, because I know I'd certainly like to do this again." Draco slid his hand down Ron's stomach and ran his fingers along Ron's limp cock.

"Oi! Leave that alone, will you?!"

Draco shrugged and smiled. "What was I supposed to do? It was just lying there. Really, though...are you okay?"

"I'm fine, mostly. That was ridiculously good, Draco"

"Mostly? What's wrong?" Draco sat up, a look of concern settling on his face.

"Just sore. And sticky." Ron grimaced a little at the rapidly drying semen on both his and Draco's torsos. "Scourgify?"

"I have a better idea -- a soak in the bath. My bathtub is bloody enormous; even your mile-long legs can fit in it. The heat will also help to soothe your muscles." Draco slid off of Ron and sat at the edge of the bed, wriggling his toes into the thick green carpet. He stood up, and made his way to the bathroom to run the water.

Ron lay on the bed for a few moments longer, pressing his fingers against his sticky stomach and trying to reconcile the unmistakably open feeling in his body. Not pleasant, but certainly not terrible, either, he thought to himself. Finally he sat up, frowning at the feeling of liquid oozing from his body. He got up quickly, not wanting to get any of it on the bedclothes, and followed Draco into the bathroom. Again he was hit with the powerful urge to use the loo.

We could have the Weasley Christmas party in here, Ron thought as he walked into the bathroom. The walls were decorated in green marble; black tile covered the floors and all of the fixtures looked to be made of polished silver. In the center of the room sat a large circular bathtub, built down into the floor.

Ron loved Draco, but he was a Slytherin to the core, and the room looked as Ron suspected any room of Draco's would -- something like a snake's pit. The room was also disturbingly orderly, and Ron wondered if Draco had ever even been in there before. He shrugged and turned toward Draco.

"Draco, I-- Erm. I need to use the loo."

Draco was busy getting down towels and bathrobes from various shelves. He tilted his head over his shoulder toward Ron. "Go ahead, no one's stopping you."

"No, I mean...I need to use the loo," Ron said again, emphasising each word.

"Yes Ron, I heard you the first time. Go ahead and use it."

"I can't. Not with you in the room." Ron muttered, looking at the floor.

"Not with me in the -- Merlin." Draco, who was still facing the wall, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ron, if you'll remember, I just had my cock shoved up your arse, I've seen it all. I think I can handle being in your presence when you potty."

"Yeah, but I can't. Draco, please? Could you go out? Just for a minute?"

Draco flung the linens down on the counter, shut off the bath water and stomped toward the door. "Fine, Polly Prissyboots. I'll give you your precious bloody privacy."

"Polly Prissyboots?! That's a fine one coming from you, Mr. I-Use-Nancy-Fruit-Scented-Shampoo-In-My-Hair-And-Wear-Clear-Finger-Polish-On-My-Nails-And--" Ron didn't get to finish because Draco had left, slamming the door behind him. Ron poked his tongue out at the door.

Ron tended to his business and then padded his way to the tub. He stepped in, hissing when the hot water touched his skin. Draco had put bubble solution in the water, and the suds were slick against him. Ron sat in the tub for a few moments before slipping under and wetting his hair. He came back up, combing his hair back with his fingers and wiping suds from his eyes.

"I'm done!" Ron called.

Draco came back into the bathroom and walked over to the edge of the tub and looked down at Ron. "That was quite the dirty trick you played in there Ron, binding me so that you could have your wicked way with me...I'm proud of you. It makes me wonder if you should have been placed in Slytherin. It's not the first time I've thought that, either."

"Ugh, Merlin forbid," Ron grimaced.

Draco folded his arms. "Oh come on. It could have been quite fun, you and I being in the same house. Think of all the clandestine meetings we could have had -- stolen kisses in the hallways, maybe a good grope when backs were turned...and just think of what we could have gotten up to in the Room of Requirement." Draco arched his eyebrow.

Ron smiled. "Draco, do you ever think of anything besides sex?"

"Well, of course I do, Ron. I think of kissing and touching and licking and--"

"Stop talking like that! I'm nowhere near ready to go at it again, and you saying things like that make me want to be." Ron laid his head back against the rim of the tub. "Blimey, I ache. The water does feel brilliant, though. You were right."

"Yes, unfortunately aching comes with the territory. And of course I was right. I'm always right."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're a genius. Now get your fine genius arse into this tub with me."

Draco stepped down into the bathtub and sat next to Ron, pulling him over to sit in front of him. He Accioed the shampoo over to them and pouring some of the apple-scented liquid to his hand, he worked it into Ron's hair, massaging his scalp.

"Mmm, that feels brilliant, Draco," Ron said. "You know -- this is probably a stupid question, but--"

"No surprise there. You're full of stupid questions."

"Shut it. I was wondering--" Ron tried again.

"Oh dear," Draco smirked.

"Shut. It. What I wondered was...how exactly did you get this place back? I thought Lucius had disowned you."

"He had. After the war was over, the Ministry took into account my "exemplary service" in the Order -- along with the testimonials from you, Potter and Granger -- and turned possession of the Manor back over to me. I don't know that Father's disownment had any merit, considering he was less than sane when it all happened. I suspect they were relieved to wash their hands of the whole affair, really. Tilt your head back." Using a bowl near the tub, Draco filled it with water and rinsed Ron's hair. "There. Now you'll smell as nancy and fruity as I apparently do."

"Eh. It's a small price to pay for this." Ron shrugged and settled against Draco's chest. "Why did you decide to do this?"

"What, to wash your hair? Because it smelled funny."

"No, you arse." Ron pinched Draco's thigh under the water. "Why did you finally invite me here? What was special about today? Wait-- I didn't miss an anniversary or anything, did I?"

Draco pouted and rubbed at the sore spot on his thigh. "No. And that hurt."

"Suck it up, nancy boy," Ron said, elbowing Draco in the stomach.

"Don't you just wish I would?" Draco laughed, poking Ron in the back. "There was no special reason. I know that I can be an enormous pain in the arse sometimes. I'm greedy and impatient and selfish and -- feel free to disagree anytime here, Ronald."

Ron just looked at the ceiling and whistled, pointedly ignoring Draco.

"Arsehole!" Draco poked Ron again and bit down hard on his shoulder.

"Ow!" Ron yelped. "Careful with those fangs, you git!"

"Hmph, you don't usually complain when I use my teeth." Draco said, keeping his voice low in Ron's ear. Draco grinned and ran his tongue over his teeth lasciviously.

"Draco..." Ron warned. Although Draco was behind him, Ron had heard him use that voice enough times to have a pretty good idea of what Draco was thinking of.

"What?" Draco asked innocently.

"You know exactly what. I told you I'm not going to be ready for a while yet."

"Spoilsport." Draco licked the shell of Ron's ear.

"Sex addict."

"Yes, but I'm addicted to sex with you, so I really don't see a problem."

"That's a fair point." Ron agreed.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I figured since I am all of those things--"

"And more," Ron interrupted.

"--and you put up with me anyway, there might be a good chance you'll stick around, despite all the things in my past."

Ron chuckled. "Glad to see you've finally caught on."

"And because I was terribly lonely without you," Draco said under his breath.

"Eh?" Ron put a hand to his ear. "What was that? Did you say you were lonely without me?"

"Yes. Let's not make a big deal out of it, alright?"

Ron's brain nearly itched with the urge to tease Draco about his little admission, but Draco could get so bloody sensitive sometimes, and he'd rather not spoil the evening. Still, he couldn't resist a tiny dig at him. "Merlin, you're such a girl, Draco. But it's alright -- I was lonely without you, too."

Draco smiled. He wrapped his arms around Ron from behind and propped his chin on his shoulder. "I don't want you to leave tomorrow."

"I don't want to leave either. I was thinking maybe it'd be okay if I stayed for a bit longer?"

"Hang on a moment, I'll check with the owner." Draco paused. "Yes, that would be just fine."

"Arse. So, Lord of the Manor," Ron stifled a snort, "for just how long did you have in mind?"

Draco placed a soft kiss where Ron's neck and shoulder met, breathing in the scent of his damp skin. "Well, I was thinking something along the lines of...forever."

Ron blinked his eyes open and turned to face his lover, looking completely gobsmacked.

"Well? What do you think about that?" Draco scooted forward and climbed into Ron's lap, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

Ron pulled Draco hard against him and smiled, kissing him back. "I think that's an absolutely brilliant idea."

"Of course it is. As I've told you many times, I am a genius."

"Genius, yes. Funny. You'd think a genius would see this coming." Ron pulled back and shoved a wave of water forward, splashing Draco in the face.

"Ohh! Of course you realize this means war!" Draco lunged forward, tackling Ron down into the water.