26. No-touch

AN: This was originally: 'No-touch and Overload', but since it was a very long chapter, I split it up ^-^

When Draco woke up the next morning he had a half-naked Blaise in his bed and a mild headache. Cursed sun was streaming in through the windows, and even though sleep was not nearly as good and gratifying without Ron next to him, Draco had missed his own room.

It didn't have anything to do with the fact that stupid Pothead wasn't in his room, either.

He had missed his father watching over him and the Sirius-star shining brightly on the ceiling. He had missed the fact that this bed had become home, and that all his stuff was there and organised.

Blaise was awake already, and he was busy with his mobile phone, his dark chest revealed. When he noticed that Draco had stirred, he flashed the blonde a grin without looking up.

"Bitch's ass is sore," he chuckled, "that'll teach 'em. Say, any reason in particular why Potter is refusing to leave you and sparky alone for even a second?"

"What do you mean?" Draco turned onto his side—another thing he had missed was the bed in itself, so much more comfortable than the one Ron inhabited.

"Come on Dray, you can't tell me you haven't noticed," Blaise did look up now, frowning, "I mean, for example, last night when you guys said goodbye for the night, I had the decency to pretend to use the loo, but he was just kind of standing there, watching you guys like some sort of voyeuristic freak. Dude, even I thought it was a little over top."

Draco sighed and burrowed his face in the pillow. He had noticed, of course, it was impossible not to. He just didn't feel like it was his place to comment on the matter—at Hogwarts, the two friends were always together, and Draco figured it was like that during the holidays as well. He couldn't just demand that Ron send his friend off, definitely not since they had been starting to get along again.

Worst of all was the fact that Ron didn't even seem to mind. He was sexually frustrated, yes, but besides that, the part where he had no alone-time with Draco whatsoever didn't seem to bother him at all.

The blonde merely turned onto his other side, away from his friend, and just like that, Blaise understood the matter was not to be brought up again.

However, it was brought up again by Ron, two days later. Draco did his best to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach, and did whatever he would do if Harry, Ron and Hermione had not been present in the room. He read and occasionally drew and whenever it became overbearing to be around so many people, he would excuse himself and feign a bathroom break, making a quick escape to his bedroom where he could lie on his bed and listen to music.

And then Ron would find him, but when Ron found him, so did Harry, and the whole process just began all over again.

The evenings were perhaps even worse. They would stay up until they became too tired and then crawled into bed. And Ron would kiss him and touch him and Draco would have to say no, because Harry was right there and they couldn't risk him waking up in the middle of it and seeing them, really, I'll wear garters for him and no matter how many times he asks, getting on my knees will never be a problem, but this is too much, even for me.

Even if that was so, Ron still only acted frustrated about the matter when it restricted with their sex-life. That was what perhaps hurt the most. It's really only sex for him.

They were in the living room when Draco urgently needed to pee. He put his book down and made a quick run for it, and he had just unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down over his thighs when the bathroom door opened.

He turned around to sneer at whoever had come in, when he saw that it was Ron, he better not be hoping for a quickie, and he scowled.

"Ronald, I really need to—"

"I know," Ron nodded, sitting himself on the edge of the tub. His eyes were fixed on the floor, ashamed to look up, "I just wanted to be with you for a little while."

"In the bathroom?" Draco's tone had a hint of amusement to it, and all-in-all he was glad Ron hadn't just come over to lure him into lovemaking.

"Anywhere will do," Ron replied aggravated, "they just won't leave us by ourselves for two damn seconds, and talking to you isn't the same with them around. There's just some things I can't say when they're with us."

Draco immediately knew who he was talking about, and inwardly, he cheered at finding out that apparently, Ron had been bothered as much as Draco. Better even, bothered for the same reason, and not just because of his raging hormones.

"It's okay Ronald, I understand," Draco tried to shrug it off—he just wanted to do something nice to Ron for a change, and decided he should just be considerate, thinking perhaps the redhead was only complaining because he thought it annoyed Draco, "you guys are friends. It's normal that you like spending time with him."

"Spending time with both of you is nice," Ron said with a frown, looking at Draco in disbelief, "spending time with you is nicer. Don't tell me you haven't notice? It's practically come to the point of stalking!"

His voice rose to a squeak and Draco couldn't help but smile.

"It is pretty annoying," he admitted.

"So can we just talk for a little while?" Ron gave him a pleading look, lip stuck out in a pout.

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Ron, I really need to pee," Draco said rather bitterly.

Ron looked like a hit puppy, and he looked at the ground defiantly.

"I'll just tell him," he decided resolutely, "I'll tell him this weekend. I'll make him see reason!"

He was determined, and an image of Ron as a knight in shinning armour popped up in Draco's head. He quickly expelled it when the knight-Ron fell off his horse and pouted, knowing that pout did no good for his teenage hormones.

He was just about to remind Ron that he really had to pee, when the redhead spoke again, soft and nervous this time.

"Could we... go out once?" he asked shakily, his voice vulnerable.

Draco arched an eyebrow—he felt a bit stupid being asked such a thing when he was there with his jeans undone—a little confused.

"Like when we all went dancing?" he tried verifying, but Ron just lifted his shoulders as if he himself didn't know.

"I mean... just the two of us?" suddenly he blushed and his cheeks got a dark colour of red, eyes still stubbornly fixed on the floor.

Realisation downed on Draco and he began smirking widely, his teeth glittering in the light.

"You want to go out on a date?" he couldn't repress a chuckle and Ron's head snapped up, blue eyes glaring daggers at the laughing blonde.

"If you don't want to go you could just say so!" Ron spat, getting up tetchily, grunting: "Don't have to bloody mock me," as he headed for the door.

Draco moved quickly to stop him, wrapping both arms around the broad shoulders and leaning into Ron's back. Ron's eyes widened in surprise and Draco rested his forehead against a shoulder, silently offering his apologies.

"I would very much like to go out on a date with you Ronald," he murmured into the redhead's tank top.

"A-are you sure?" Ron stuttered, fists clenching.

"Yes," Draco replied quietly, flattering his blonde head more comfortably against Ron's back.

He knew it was a bit foolish of him to be frightened that Ron only missed their physical contact, when now that he finally had the redhead in his arms again, I really don't want to let go. He missed talking to Ron and spending time with him, but... touching him, he missed just as much.

Ron turned around, posing his fingers on Draco's chin and lifting it. He tried to read the blonde's eyes, but they were as unfeeling as they usually were, so he just pressed a kiss to the rosy lips, tastes so good, and smiled.

"I'll let you pee now," Ron shrugged.

Draco ushered him out the door and locked it this time, before leaning back against it with a sigh. He just couldn't wait for the weekend to be over so he could spend some time in private with Ron.

Three days later nothing had changed. Draco tried not to let it bother him, after all, they still shared a bed, and even though his own bed was more comfortable, he shared Ron's with Ron and that was nice too.

What was worse was that it became painfully obvious that Harry was doing it purposely. When Ron had gotten enough and decided that he needed a shower, after which he gave Draco a pointed stare: "you too," Draco realised what he was up to and had nodded gravely.

They were just about to get naked when Harry stormed in in dire need of Ron, and well, that was it. Even though Draco had pretended that there was even a slim chance Harry just didn't realise how damn annoying he way, he had no doubts left.

The raven was doing it on purpose.

Hermione was perhaps even worse. Every time the two of them even just touched she would call Ron to order immediately. Draco understood that perhaps it was a bit weird for them—he always got a little uncomfortable when Sirius and Remus touched—but it was their own fault, really. If those two would just give them some privacy, there would be no need for those awkward touches!

When Saturday morning came, Draco had never been so relieved in his life. He understood Ron would be gone for two days, and he would have to spend the night by himself, but at least Potter and Granger would be gone as well, and right now, that was all he really wanted.

He was about to go into the living room to say goodbye to the Weasleys—perhaps managing to steal a moment with Ron—when the redhead came out of said room, eyes widening when he saw Draco, and then continued to pull him into the hall closet.

"Ron, I was just—" he stopped when he realised where Ron was pulling him to, and frowned, "What—"

"I'll tell them this weekend," Ron sounded determined, closing the door behind him. Draco could feel mops if he moved his hand, and though he'd felt it before, it wasn't altogether pleasant, "I have to tell them. They're driving me nuts!"

"I know Ronald," Draco reached for the redhead, following the sound of his angry voice, and managed to grasp a handful of t-shirt, "I'm sure they'll understand."

He gave a small yelp when he unintentionally pulled Ron a little too hard into his own body, but stopped dead-still when Ron's breath warmed his cheeks, the redhead's thigh meshed between his own.

"I have to go," Ron groaned, tremors shooting up Draco's spine as he was reminded of ohMerlinyesDraco, "I'm supposed to be getting a sweater."

"Yeah," Draco huffed softly, shivering when he felt Ron's hands work under his shirt.

"Can I take yours?" Ron nipped at Draco's cheek—Draco figured he'd aimed for his neck or ear—his hands working in circles up his chest.

It took a moment for Draco to realise what the redhead had asked him. When it hit him, oh-so-sentimental, he grinned and leaned forward to kiss the redhead's lips. Ron moaned in surprise, but kissed back vigorously, hands grasping at the pale sides.

Draco managed to control himself before he pulled Ron into himself completely—using his arse for leverage, preferably—pulling back slowly. He felt Ron's lips hover over his own, his mouth wet with the redhead's saliva.

"Is a shirt good too?" he murmured, undoing his buttons one by one.

He felt Ron nod deftly into his shoulder as the boy's hands joined to help his in the task of getting rid of his shirt. As soon as no buttons were left done, Ron slid it down the frail shoulder, smoothing his rough hands against the tender skin.

"Ron!" they heard Harry's voice coming from outside the broom-closet, and Ron groaned, this time in protest, "Your mum says we have to go!"

"Go," Draco kissed him quickly, aiming for his mouth full-on but getting the corner instead, "I'll see you tomorrow evening."

"I know," Ron sighed, stuffing the shirt into his back pocket, "I know."

They left the wardrobe, Ron's hand still on Draco's bare hip. Harry looked up when they entered the hallway, frowning.

"Where is your shirt?" Harry questioned, pointing at the blonde's revealed abs.

Draco shrugged—he knew it was a little childish, but couldn't help but feel a need to show the raven who Ron belonged to—running a hand up the redhead's side. He didn't miss the shudder that racked the strong frame, either.

"I was hot," he said casually, and Ron snorted.

Before he left, Ron drew Draco into another kiss—sweet and passionate and caring—cupping his lower back so he could move the smaller body into his own. Harry coughed uncomfortably, but for once, Ron ignored his friend, pulling Draco in closer.

They separated too quickly to Draco's taste, but he understood that Ron really had to get going. He gave a little encouraging smile as the two friends headed into the living room, Ron looking back over his shoulder constantly until the door shut.

He spent the rest of the day with Sirius and Remus in the kitchen. It was kind of cute to see them interact—Remus was busy making cake, Sirius constantly trying to get his attention—now, even more sweet than before.

Honestly, they were giddy before, but now that they're having a baby, it's gotten even worse!

It was obvious to Draco that Sirius wanted to tell him something, but it appeared that he was adamant on waiting for the opportune moment. It was funny to see him struggle with hiding his excitement though, and the man burst out in giggles at random moments, his face constantly painted with a broad grin.

Draco helped Remus make the dough—Sirius expelled from coming anywhere near them while they worked, as he was famous for trying to steal tastes of it—and it was really a rather relaxing thing to be doing. They talked about anything that came to mind, though nothing too serious, while mixing the ingredients.

When they had gotten the cake into the oven, Remus and Draco joined Sirius at the table, waiting for it to bake. The raven pulled Remus into his lap and even while they were just talking, Sirius kept his hands on Remus' stomach, constantly nuzzling his neck.

Draco was getting a little impatient—he had known Sirius wanted to tell him something for almost a week, and he had thought he would jump at it as soon as they were alone—Sirius still acting as if he was dying to say something.

The moment came when Draco least expected it. He was drinking his tea, reading a magazine while they waited for the cake, when he heard Sirius whisper: "can we please tell him now Moony?"

Remus gave a nod and Sirius hopped on his chair excitingly—as well as he could, with Remus in his lap—giving the blonde a grin. Draco looked up curiously, but let no further emotion be shown on his face.

"We've been wanting to ask you Draco..." he began and then paused to take a deep breath—his excitement stringing the words together rapidly—though he sounded a little nervous and concerned as well, "ifperhapsmaybeyou'dwanttobegodfathertoourbaby?"

Even if it was just all a blur, Draco still understood what Sirius had just asked him.

His eyes widened, and his mouth felt dry for some reason. Did he just... no... it can't have been... surely he wouldn't want me to be...

"Of course!" the words came from his mouth before he could stop them, and even though he felt like the biggest idiot alive, he smiled broadly, feeling happier than he had in a long time, "I would be honoured to!"

Sirius and Remus came over to hug him immediately, completely ignoring the fact that he usually didn't like to be held. Draco decided he could overlook it, just this one time, considering what honour they had just given him. He'd never been anyone's godfather, but he knew that the fact that they were asking him to be, meant a great deal to them. It felt as if some way, they were trying to get him to realise he was part of their family now, and even if he still missed dad, mom, it felt nice to be part of something again.

They spent the rest of the day decorating the cake. Draco knew it was probably far too girly for him to be enjoying it, but he couldn't help it. He liked doing artistic things, and though styling the frosting wasn't exactly the peak of creativity, it was very pleasing. Remus left Sirius and Draco in charge of the decoration and they used sprinkles and whipped cream to give it a little bit extra. Sirius insisted on adding chocolate as a surprise while Remus went to the restroom, and they put it in the fridge before the man returned.

While they left the cake to rest, they went up to one of the smaller living rooms on the second floor. There was a television there, even though Draco had never even known they owed one. It turned out Remus had brought it with him when he had moved in, since the brunette was unwilling to give up his movie collection. They sat on the couch—one only Sirius and Remus ever used, since they were the only ones that ever came into the room—drinking soda and watching old movies on the device. Remus lay on his side with Sirius' hand posed on his belly, the raven stroking over it absentmindedly. It was a little more prominent than it had been before, but Draco could understand perfectly well that to the untrained eye, Remus looked just as slim as he did before. Draco sat next them, trying not to look too obviously at them from the corner of his eye, Sirius' arm comfortably wrapped around his shoulder.

The older man had asked him if it was okay if he held him like that, and Draco hadn't had the heart to protest. Before he began this thing he and Ron had, he had never really missed proximity. His father held him sometimes, when he had had a hard day at work or in case they hadn't seen each other in a while. When Draco returned from school and his father had a day off, he would sit with Lucius like he sat with Sirius now, in the orchard on the wooden swing.

Now that he had to miss Ron's touches and embraces, he realised what he had been missing, all along. Or you know, maybe five days without Ron holding him properly made him a stupid sentimental bitch.

The day went by in a blur—spending time with just Sirius and Remus was so nice, he could spend months with them and not even notice a single minute had passed—and before he got a full grasp on things, he woke up with his head on Sirius' stomach and the man's hand wrapped around Remus' hip, the brunette's face resting on Sirius' chest. Their proposal had been the centre of Draco's dreams that night, and for the first time since his parents died he allowed himself to fully look forward to something.

He loved Ronald, but this feeling was something different. It wasn't the same thing he felt around the redhead, but leaned closer to what he felt when he was with his father. Either way, it felt incredibly good, and he just counted himself lucky they wanted him to be their child's godfather. He knew it would probably be hard for them to tell Harry, and he knew Harry wouldn't like the idea of his godfather's child growing up to be so close to him, but frankly, he couldn't care.

He was officially done caring about what Potter would think. He had needed to worry about that ever since he and Ronald first kissed, and he was done with it. He was done with sparing the boy's feelings and not kissing Ron when he was near. He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake. If Harry couldn't handle his best friend snogging a Malfoy, he could just look away.

They talked all through their brunch—apparently they had stayed up quite late, but Draco had stopped checking the time when the clock struck twelve—Sirius unable to keep his mouth shut for a second. He rambled about how amazing it would be, and how happy he was, and how absolutely delighted he felt that Draco wanted to be their baby's godfather.

And even though Draco didn't say it aloud, he knew that Sirius and Remus knew he was probably even happier than they were with that decision.

They went back upstairs to continue watching one of the movies from where they had left off that night, and then spent most of the afternoon out in the garden. Sirius and Draco rode their brooms while Remus watched—pretending to be reading but failing—playing broom-tag and chasing each other around the trees. It was great to be outside again, it was hot but not stifling, and there was a nice breeze. For once, the weather was absolutely perfect, and even though Draco wished his father could be there to enjoy it with him, he knew that wouldn't be happening, so he tried to focus instead on making it real with Sirius.

When they grew tired of poking fun at each other, they joined Remus back on the ground. They didn't talk much then, Sirius settled between Remus' leg in his dog-form—it always surprised Draco that he actually turned into a dog when it wasn't necessary, but Remus had explained that since Azkaban Padfoot had become an even bigger part of Sirius' identity, so he couldn't stop himself from turning at random moments, or when he wanted to feel safe—and Draco went to get his drawing material from his room.

He felt confident in admitting that Remus and Sirius made him feel comfortable enough to draw in their presence. When he had drawn Ron he had felt a bit ill-at-ease, knowing the boy could wake up and find him in one of his more vulnerable positions, and he didn't want that. It felt like a secret he should have kept from Ron, but it was too late for that now.

With Remus and Sirius, he was willing to share.

So he sat in the tall grass on the make-shift seat Remus had installed consisting out of pillows and blankets—Draco had tried to get the men to sit on the swing, but they refused to, insisting on sitting with Draco instead—positioning his paper into an easy position and plucking one of his pencils from his bag.

He drew whatever he saw—birds and trees and the sun—and then when he felt it safe enough, he began drawing Sirius and Remus. He had always preferred drawing people, and this was good practice for him. He also wasn't used to drawing animals, so Padfoot certainly came as a challenge for him.

First he started out with Remus—the man had fallen asleep, Sirius' paws on his stomach protectively—easily bent towards Draco. But after a couple of small sketches, the urge to try something new became too big and he started drawing Sirius instead. His paws and his ears at first, because he twitched them cutely in his sleep, and Draco became hooked on trying to give them motion in his drawings.

Then he moved to the wet nose—that one was easier than expected—trying on making it look the sufficient amount of cute without turning too surrealistic.

When he became impatient with working in slow steps, he tried drawing all of Padfoot, and it went rather well, though the general furriness was a bit off. So he redid it.

And then he did it again.

And again.

Draco was a zealous believer in the saying 'practice makes perfect' and he refused to believe otherwise. His father had taught him that if you try hard enough, and you try long enough, and you want it, bad enough, you can do anything.

He succeeded in something resembling okay after seven sketches, and then decided to try drawing the entire picture. Even though he had thought this would be much harder, it actually was easier, since any imperfections Padfoot had were easily erased and he could anticipate the place he took on Remus' body much easier with the man already drawn on his paper.

They woke just as he had finished, and when Remus smiled and asked him what he had been up to he just showed his drawings of the trees. Perhaps this is still a secret I would like to keep.

Remus started making dinner so it would be ready by the time the Weasleys arrived, while Draco and Sirius moved the tables outside and set them for the evening. It had become a bit of a habit, whenever the weather allowed it they sat outside.

Draco and Sirius had just returned from setting the tables when the door opened and slammed shut. For a brief, oh-so-silly-short, moment, Draco hoped the Weasleys had let Ron return to Grimmauld place sooner, but then Tonks appeared in the doorway and his hopes were ruined.

Sirius and Remus were great company, but the idea of being close with Ron after almost a week of slim to no contact stayed present in the back of his mind, always.

Tonks gave a curt nod to Sirius and Draco—not even greeting her own relatives—and turned to Remus with a strange expression.

"I want to talk to you," she said sternly, "now preferably."

"Alright," Remus nodded and got off his seat—receiving a worried look from Sirius—and followed her out of the kitchen.

Before he left he sent the raven a reassuring smile, and even though Sirius still looked a bit confused, he did smile back. Draco gave the older man a questioning look, but Sirius didn't know what Tonks wanted either, and just gave him a shrug.

They waited for Remus to return in silence, and the air changed completely. Instead of ridiculously happy, Sirius was suddenly nervous.

They heard Tonks raise her voice all of a sudden, and the fierce pit-patter of her shoes came closer. Her exact words were incomprehensible, but she was definitely angry, voice full of rage. For a minute there was silence, and then they heard Remus reply softly, and she raged again. It all ended with a brutal door-slam, Remus appearing once more in the kitchen.

"Remus? What was that all about?" Sirius asked, a frown present on his features.

"She wanted to talk about... our hoax," Remus was baffled, blinking dumbly, "she thought it was a hoax..." he sat down, eyes far-off as he muttered: "a hoax."

"Remus? What do you mean?" Sirius didn't understand, but Draco though he might have a hunch of what their conversation had been about.

"Well, apparently you were right all along," Remus gave a grunt, "she does like me in that way, and thought we were playing when we acted so... affectionately. She called it a hoax."

For some reason Remus couldn't stop repeating the word, and he groaned before thumping his head into the kitchen counter. The move worried both Sirius and Draco, and they moved to stop him before he could do it again.

"Remus? You're a bit pale love," Sirius gently pried Remus off the table, gesturing for him to stand, "you should rest some more."

He supported the man, helping him get up. Remus followed obediently, his face decisively more pale.

"Could you just watch the fire? I'll be right back," Sirius promised, but Draco nodded his head.

"It's fine, take all the time you need," Draco promised, picking up his book to show the man that he would be fine on his own.

Sirius smiled broadly, giving a wink before he left the kitchen, taking Remus with him. Draco made himself more comfortable on his stool, opening his book in his marked page. He had just started reading where he had left off earlier, when he heard the front door open. For a minute he worried it might be one of the members, but then Molly entered with Arthur and Fred and George on her heels, and he realised it were the Weasleys. His heart skipped a beat and he scowled at his own foolishness, he hasn't even been gone two whole days.

Molly was carrying two grocery bags and set them on the counter, smiling as she inhaled deeply.

"Oh, it smells delicious is here," the others nodded approvingly, the smell of fresh cake heady in the air from the previous day, intermingling with the current thick scent of red wine.

"We made cake," Draco said simply, pointing towards the fridge vaguely, "Remus taught us how."

Molly kissed his cheek as a manner of greeting, giving an approving nod. She found Remus a much better role-model than Sirius, that much was clear, but she was trying her hardest not to be too obvious about it.

"Where are Sirius and Remus now?" she asked, eyeing the pots and pans on the fire.

Draco knew she was debating whether or not she should go over and mess with them, but Draco knew dinner had almost been done, and Remus had turned down the fire to a lower temperature before he left, assuring that everything would stay warm but that it wouldn't be overdone.

"Remus wasn't feeling well, so Sirius took him upstairs," the other Weasleys entered the kitchen as well—all except for... Ron—with Harry and Hermione coming in as last, "don't worry about the fire misses Weasley, Remus took care of it."

She wasn't convinced, but sat down anyway.

"We crossed Tonks on our way here," she began a bit nervously, not sure whether to bring up the subject now, "they had a fight I heard?"

"You could hardly call it a fight," Draco glared, "she came, she yelled, she left again."

"Now Draco," Arthur gave his wife a look from the corner of his eye, and Draco realised he was trying to stop her from continuing: "that's not what she said. I'm sure she wouldn't lie about something like this."

"I don't need to be sure of anything but the fact that I was right here when it happened," Draco snapped, how dare she! He is the kindest person I know and still she tries to bring him down like that, "he didn't even raise his voice! What is Tonks' problem anyway," he stood, trying to silence himself—there really was no need to get so angry with Molly, since she was only repeating what she had heard—he failed, glaring at the plump woman before him, "she cries when he faints and she squeals when he's in the room and she is so in love, and she cares so much, but even though he is obviously very sick, it is still okay for her to just barge in and bring him down like that? She loves him so, but because she cannot be the one bringing happiness she's intent on destroying anyone that tries," he took his book off the table with a role of his eyes, "that's not love. She's insane."

Molly embraced him quite suddenly, throwing Draco off guard. He had expected her to be insulted, at the least, but instead she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her chest.

"You have to stop speaking so truthfully," she whispered into his hair, the others frowning when they couldn't understand, "the truth hurts love."

"I'll stop speaking the truth," Draco told her, gently prying himself from her hug with a smile, "when people start earning the lie."

Her smile turned sort of sad, and before he managed to leave the room she muttered: "Ronald's upstairs looking for you," making sure no one heard her talk.

He gave a curd nod, and made his way into the hall, mounting the first set of stairs. When he went up the second, he collided into a solid, warm body, the sudden impact almost sending him flying back down. Strong hands grabbed his forearms, and just like that he was saved from the fall, balancing off a step with a single foot still in place.

He cursed himself for losing his footing that easily, and nearly lost it all over again when he recognised the voice that called for him.

"Drake? Merlin, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going at all," when the blonde raised his head, he was met with the sight of Ron's ginger bangs, his blue eyes wide in surprise.

He's back. He's here and he's back.

He felt an inane urge to do something incredibly ridiculous, like flinging himself around Ron's neck or snogging him until he was out of breath. Instead he tucked a blonde lock behind his ear, and did his best to smile alluringly, the corner of his mouth up in a tempting smirk.

Ron's eyes widened and his grip on Draco's arms tightened—his cheeks gaining a blush—when he realised it really was Draco he'd bumped into.

Within seconds Draco was being pressed up against the railing, Ron lifting him off the step and shifting his weight into Draco to keep him in place. Ron's knee shifted in between Draco's legs for easier balance, his hands still on Draco's arms. His eyes were searching Draco's, and the boy's look brought a heat surging up his body, starting all the way at his toes.

The redhead brought his head down to nuzzle Draco's nose, rubbing against it in circles. The small touch made Draco's skin warm, his pale hands travelling down Ron's back. When Draco was just about to reach up for Ron's lips, he brought his mouth down over Draco's, licking against his lips gently. The blonde opened his mouth compliantly, willingly accepting Ron's tongue against his own, pushing his hands up to Ron's front.

They parted with a small huff, Ron's hands releasing their tight grip in favour of roaming Draco's chest. Draco was set back down and he balanced with his feet on two different steps, ignoring the small strain in his leg and squeezing the redhead's arse lewdly. With one hand, he pushed up the boy's shirt to feel his stomach. Ron unbuttoned Draco's shirt unhurriedly licking his lips when he felt the warm flesh slide deliciously under his fingertips.

A strong shudder racked their frames when they cautiously pushed their stomachs together, both of them looking down in fascination at the connection as they shuddered against each other. Ron's back was curled, his waist meshed with Draco's, and he purred when the blonde groped him tighter, keeping him in place.

Draco had missed the feel of Ron's stomach more than he cared to admit. He didn't know what it was exactly, that made him love the redhead's belly so much. It was almost completely flat—though his was flatter—only popping out a small bit. It wasn't muscled as some others he had seen—not like Blaise and his six-pack—and it was almost a little tanned, even though he had freckles and was a redhead. There were small pencil striped hairs, and when he wore hand-me-downs from Bill or Charlie, too big jeans that hung low on his hips, it would run down and expose his slight protruding hip bones. Perhaps what he loved the most, was the feel.

Ron's stomach felt absolutely delightful.

Ron fisted his shirt apart, Draco pushing the redhead's up a little higher to have more access of skin. With their stomachs connected, the shirt stayed up willingly, and Draco used the hand not busy groping Ronald's arse to cup his chin instead. They kissed again, almost torturously slow, even though Ron's hands were insistent, his fingers deftly undoing the button on his expensive jeans.

Draco was so close to returning the favour—if he could only let go of that exquisite ass for a single second it would be fine—when there was a cough.

Their kiss broke and Ron groaned loudly in disapproval, pushing his face into the crook of Draco's neck, unwilling to face their apparent crowd. Draco turned to face the four people at the bottom of the stairs, looking at them with wide eyes.

Bill was smirking, but Ginny, Harry and Hermione just looked shocked.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Draco scowled, waving his hand at them in a shooing motion, "couldn't you just ignore us and walk on!"

Ron muttered a weak: "so close... so close to fucking your brains out," against Draco's neck and Draco rolled his eyes, Bill snorting at how pathetic his brother sounded.

"It's your fault in the first place, I hope you die a horrible death Weasley!" Draco glared and shoved the taller boy off, aggravated and generally pissed off at being denied his proximity once more.

Since when has fucking become such a hassle? It was never this damn hard before! Honestly, sneaking around was easier than this!

"Me? What did I do?" Ron asked with a frown.

"You could try moving faster!" Draco sneered, turning his back on the Weasley—he knew he had no reason to be so angry, but he couldn't help it, for once, he could not keep his emotions in check—zipping up his fly on the way, "Stupid Weasley being so fucking slow," he muttered angrily, "foreplay is redundant after a week of abstinence, rudy—" he was muttering all the way upstairs, and the five others watched him go in surprise.

AN: I have no excuse for this being so late. Except that... life kind of got in the way of uploading, but fortunately not of writing.

But I'll try to upload in more decent timings. Even if I say this every goddamnned time. I haven't given up on this, so there... one day this'll be complete, and then hoeraaaaah !