Title: Best Mates

Warnings: this has a very strong/heavy M rating,slash (guy-on-guy action), wet dreams, masturbation, making out, frottage/humping, giggly boys, etc.

A/N: I have absolutely no idea where this came from. I just sat down and started typing one night and here it is. I guess my muse just felt like giving me a jolt to jumpstart my creative juices.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is recognizable from J.K.R.'s Harry Potter universe, and I'm not making any money off of this.

Harry was having a hard time getting to sleep. He couldn't stop worrying about the next D.A. meeting and what he could possibly teach his peers to save them from Voldemort. On top of that, every time he closed his eyes he saw Cho's crying face. The object of your first kiss shouldn't be crying. Worse yet, whenever he thought about it he was reminded of why Cho was crying, which led back to the still-painful memory of Cedric dying. He felt sick…cold….lost. Inevitably, thinking about Cedric led back to thoughts of Voldemort. He felt tense, angry, worried and, of course, completely unable to sleep.

"Mmmm… Again!" Harry was started from his dark ponderings by the sounds of Ron tossing around and murmuring loudly into his pillow. Glancing over at his best mate, he smirked. It seems Ron was having some interesting dreams tonight. Harry sighed and turned away to face the wall. Rooming with four other teenaged boys meant this was by no means the first time he had to listen to some one else's wet dreams, or worse, some one else wanking. Normally he just tried to ignore it, but Ron was pretty loud tonight. Ron groaned in ecstasy and Harry sighed exasperatedly and put his pillow over his head. It wasn't fair that Harry didn't even get to sleep whereas Ron got to sleep and get his rocks off with some sex dream. What Harry wouldn't give to be asleep and dreaming about that.

Harry was so frustrated about the D.A. and Voldemort and that stupid kiss-gone-wrong with Cho that he'd never get to sleep. Not while he was this tense… Ron moaned again, loudly, and Harry was struck with a sudden inspiration. Wait a minute, why should he let Ron have all the fun? There was one thing he could try to relieve the tension. Harry pulled his head out from under his pillow and settled back, smiling slowly. Closing his eyes, Harry was once again met with the memory of that stupid, sloppy, tearful kiss—his first kiss. Determinedly, he pushed away the rising images of Cederic and Voldemort and tried to focus on the sensation of lips on lips. Slowly, he snaked his right hand beneath the covers and slipped his finger tips into his pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, yeah," purred Ron and Harry nearly had a heart attack. He had to force himself not to yelp and yank his hand out of his pants. 'Damn Ron.' The redhead in question went back to his soft moaning and panting. Harry blocked it out and dove deeper into the memory of Cho, revelling in the taste of lips on lips, but taking it farther. This Cho stopped crying and gave in to the press of his lips. This Cho leaned back to rest in a pile of the D.A.'s pillows, letting Harry lower himself on top of her. This Cho pulled away breathlessly to smile and pant. Lost in fantasy and finally able to ignore Ron, Harry at last slid his hand down to stroke his growing erection. 'Yep. No better way to relieve tension and get to sleep than a good, hard wank...'

Harry was kissing Cho fiercely now, sliding his right hand up her shirt and tangling his left in her soft, black hair. She moaned eagerly and undid his trousers to grasp his leaking cock. Gasping at the imagined sensation, Harry pulled faster and harder at his straining erection. He was getting close… Unfortunately, so was Ron and Harry couldn't quite block out the incessant moaning anymore. 'Shut up, Ron,' Harry thought fiercely. 'I am trying to get off here and your flopping about and groaning isn't the most—'

"Ohhhhh…" Ron let out a long, low, sensual syllable. Harry's breath hitched a little and his hand stilled momentarily. He forced himself to think of Cho and began to stroke himself again, but his mind wandered back to the moan. 'Oh, God,' he thought. 'That was almost—'

"Uhhhhnn… do it again, please," moaned Ron.

'—hot,' Harry's sentence finished itself. His body stilled and Harry tried desperately to force away the unbidden thought. 'Cho! Think about Cho!' he frantically urged his subconscious. Ron moaned louder, the erotic noises filling Harry's ears until he was afraid to keep going. 'This is Ron, damn it, Ron,' he told himself in horror. Reluctantly, Harry's right hand left his pants and eventually settled at his side on top of his blankets. His cock was so damn hard it ached, but Harry couldn't bring himself to face wanking until Ron was finished with his noises. It was just too confusing.

By sheer force of will, Harry kept both hands above the covers and tried not to hear his best mate getting off in the next bed. He was desperate to think about anything that wasn't sexual. Remembering the horror of Cederic's death, he tried to see it again. That helped a little. It was impossible to be turned on when faced with something so awful. Following this train of thought, Harry focused on later memories, in the graveyard with Voldemort. He thought about pain and death and suffering and was immensely relieved to forget all about wanking and moaning and Ron. He sighed in relief as his erection waned. Ron paused in his constant dribble of noises and Harry began to feel safer. It was over. Ron was done and Harry wasn't hard and he hadn't wanked to his best mate's wet dream—

"Ohhh… Hermione! Gods, like that!" Harry's cock snapped back to attention and he moaned disgustedly at his body's reaction, burying his face and hands in his pillow. 'I can't believe Ron is making me hard! This is so not on.'

"Ngh!" cried Ron and Harry leapt angrily to his feet, took two steps to the side of Ron's bed, and leaned over to shake him roughly.

"Wake up, Ron," he bit out irately.

"Mm-hmmm… Like that?"

"Damn it, wake up, Ron!" Harry shook him again but stepped back violently as blue eyes blinked open blearily.

"Harry?" Ron yawned widely and peered confusedly at his best mate. He moved to sit up and went a little wide-eyed. Harry knew that Ron must have realized he was hard. "Bloody Hell, Harry, did you have to wake me up? I was kind of having a nice dream." He seemed irritated.

"Er," said Harry.

"Well, what is it? This had better be good," ground out Ron.

"Er, I couldn't sleep with you tossing around yelling about Hermione." Harry flushed and, to his credit, so did Ron. The embarrassment didn't last long, however, as Ron winced and tried to adjust his blankets.

"You mean you knew what kind of dream I was having and you still woke me up? That's cold, mate."

"Er, sorry…"

"It's never bothered you before."

"Um, you were awfully vocal this time. And Hermione, Ron?" Ron flushed again, but chuckled. Harry shrugged returned to his bed. Just as he was getting comfortable, he heard a stifled gasp from the next bed. 'Oh, Hell no.'

"Ron!" he cried out, horrified. "Are you wanking over there? I'm still awake here, you know!"

"Sorry, mate. It's just, that dream's left me so damn hard. I was so close, Harry. I can't just stop now. And you know that real-Hermione would never do what dream-Hermione was just doing."

"But—"

"We live in a dorm, Harry. I'm sure you've heard it before. Just shut up and let me get on with it." There was a pause before Ron continued speaking, sounding a slightly less miffed and maybe a little bit eager. "Unless…" 'This can't be good,' thought Harry.

"U-unless?" whispered Harry, cowering under his blankets and cursing the way his voice shook. Ron chuckled and moved to stand. Before Harry could protest, Ron was lounging on the end of his bed, legs spread wide and pyjama bottoms tenting suggestively.

"Why did you wake me up, Harry," Ron drawled softly, lingering breathily on Harry's name and reaching out to slide his hand up Harry's leg. Harry was horrified to realise that his cock was rock hard again.

"Ron!" Harry squeaked in panic, "W-what the Hell are you doing!?" Harry pressed himself as far back against his headboard as he could and tried to jerk his leg away from Ron. 'This is Ron, for God's sake. What the Hell does he think he's doing? What the Hell is wrong with me that I haven't pushed him off me yet?'

"Experimenting," Ron quipped easily, moving to his hands and knees, straddling Harry's shins.

"Experimenting?" whispered Harry breathlessly, hating himself for not jumping up and running away.

"That's right, Harry. Middle of the night. Two best mates. One of us has a bit of a problem—"

"Ron! Listen to yourself. What about Hermione? You're not thinking properly." Harry was only protesting with his mouth, though. Certain other organs were screaming: 'Hell, yes!'

"Hermione and I aren't really together or anything, in case you haven't noticed. Besides, you're here and she isn't and I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend or something. It'd just be one mate helping out another mate." With this said, Ron slowly crawled forwards and straddled Harry's lap. He smirked as Harry gasped involuntarily. 'Oh, Hell,' he thought desperately, 'now Ron knows I'm hard.'

"Come on, Harry. Don't you want to get off with your 'Most Important Person'?" he made teasing reference to the Tri Wizard Tournament as he wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and leaned closer. Harry blushed but laughed. The nervous tension melted away and he relaxed a little. This was Ron. There was nothing to be afraid of.

"I don't think that's quite what it meant, Ron. Gods, that's got to be the worst pick-up line I've ever heard!" Harry smirked and Ron blushed and laughed outright. Harry joined in and soon they were both guffawing helplessly.

"I'm s-serious, Harry! Don't poke fun," Ron gasped between giggles. It was now or never and he wouldn't be able to face Ron after this anyway. Making a snap decision, Harry brought his hands to rest firmly at Ron's waist and pulled him a little closer.

"How serious?" he breathed against the shell of Ron ear and was reward with a gasp and a nervous giggle.

"Dead serious," Ron whispered back between giggles. Both of them laughed at the hilarity of it all.

"P-prove it," Harry stuttered between more giggles. And so Ron did. He leaned in and lips met lips and Harry gasped and tongue met tongue and Ron moaned and soon it was hard to breathe. They pulled apart, gasping for breath, and Harry chuckled again.

"Harry! Don't laugh! What's so funny?" whined a slightly indignant Ron.

"S-sorry, mate! It's just," he guffawed again, "did you realise that we're kind of—" he broke out into another fit of laughter.

"What?" Ron demanded somewhat irritably.

"We're kind of humping each other!" Harry gasped out before breaking out into another fit of laughter. Ron looked down and realised that they were indeed rutting against each like animals as they kissed.

"Oh. Oh!" Ron's eyes widened a little and he reddened. "S-sorry!" Embarrassed, he tried to back away, but Harry was having none of it.

"D-don't stop?" he asked between peels of laughter as he slid both hands around to rest on Ron's lower back and thrust upwards. Both of them gasped as their clothed erections bumped harshly together. Now it was Ron's turn to gasp out an untimely cackle.

"O-okay. It is kind of funny, though, now you mention it," he chortled. Harry smirked, pulled his shirt off over his head, and leaned in for another heated kiss before insisting that Ron divest himself of his own shirt as well. Mouths meeting for another kiss, both boys gasped as naked chest met naked chest.

"Ohhhh… H-harry," Ron moaned into Harry's mouth and Harry chuckled before kissing down to suck and lick along his best mate's neck.

"It's so (kiss) hot (kiss) when you (lick) moan like (kiss) that," he whispered.

"Mmmmm… (gasp) Th-thanks! (moan) Just (pant) don't stop!"

Within minutes, Ron was stretched out on his back with Harry pinning him down as they rutted and rubbed frantically against each other. Harry slipped out of his pants, throwing them to the ground, and renewed his attack on Ron's neck without giving him a chance to take off his bottoms. With one last thrust, he pressed his face into Ron's shoulder and came long and hard across their stomachs with a muffled shout.

Feeling Harry's body tense above him and hot come shoot between hot, sweaty bodies, Ron lost it and came moaning Harry's name. As Harry collapsed on top of him, he huffed angrily.

"What, Ron?" he murmured sleepily.

"Stupid, overeager wanker."

"Huh?"

"You had me pinned down. And- and you were so damn hot. I-I-"

"What, Ron?"

"You made me cream my pants!" Ron moaned sadly. Noticing for the first time that Ron was, indeed, still half clothed, Harry rolled off onto his back. He clutched his sides and laughed loudly. Ron growled and moved to get up, but Harry pulled him back.

"S-sorry, mate," he stuttered between bouts of raucous laughter. "Let me make it up to you?" With that Harry yanked down Ron's pants and hurriedly pulled them off his legs. Ron tried to remain irritated and aloof, but grinned reluctantly as Harry nuzzled his neck.

"Yeah. Okay."