Pure and utter crack! Written for the rd_challenge's humor category. Beta'd by Sarah. I don't own anything you recognize, including the hentai. :D
"What I can't see is why you have to keep parading around like –"
Ron whirled around. "I'm not parading," he snapped at the other boy. "I'm inspecting the perimeter for evidence."
"Evidence?" Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, evidence. Clearly we were trapped in here by a malicious third party, making this" – he spread his arms to indicate the entirety of the dim, featureless chamber – "a crime scene, and everything in it evidence."
"You're not an Auror yet, Weasley," Draco said in a bored tone.
Calling upon reserves of patience he hitherto hadn't known he'd possessed, Ron ignored Draco. The room did not need to become the site of a homicide, too. "Only because they made me go back to finish my seventh year at Hogwarts," he said in a tone whose civility surprised even him. "They've already offered me a job; I'm as good as in."
Draco rolled his eyes. "So, what do you plan on doing to get us out of this room, Super-Auror-Weasley?"
Ron scowled and paced around the perimeter once more. Frankly, he had no idea, but he wasn't about to tell Malfoy that. Somewhere in here, there had to be some clue to their escape...
"You know, the whole castle hasn't been the same since the battle," Draco said, breaking a silence that Ron had been beginning to enjoy. "And after being made to bend to the whims of the student resistance for so long, it's no wonder the Room should rebel against us, or at least throw an occasional fit or two."
"'An occasional fit'?" Ron quoted. "Luring us both here under false pretenses, then holding us with no means of escape? You call that a fit?"
Draco shrugged. "I didn't say a harmless fit."
Ron breathed in and out whilst counting to twenty in his head like Kingsley had shown him on the day he'd offered him the Auror position. Until that point, Ron would not have believed that controlling one's temper could be a serious condition of keeping a job – much less a job he didn't even have yet – but Kingsley had been very persuasive on that point.
The newfound silence was broken when the wall Draco was leaning against flickered, dulled, and then came to life. Draco scrambled to his feet and jumped halfway across the small room, somehow managing to look calm and collected before he'd even landed.
"What in the –"
Both boys stared at the far wall, which was now projecting a moving image from floor to ceiling.
"It's like a fellydision," Ron said.
"Muggles use it to watch football games and the news and shit," Ron said. "There's moving pictures, but it's really just a flat box. Just like this...Oh, god." Ron clapped his hands over his eyes.
Draco stared, riveted.
"How can you look at that shit, Malfoy? It's sick."
Ron peered through his fingers just to check, and yes, the horrific image was still there. And Malfoy was still staring. Two cartoon figures, both obviously male and very well muscled, were writhing together, trying to fit their impossibly large cocks into impossibly small places. Ron looked away again, lest he become drawn in by the hypnotic motion, as Malfoy clearly already had been.
"It's fascinating, really," Draco said. "Look, I think they're supposed to be us. That one has orange hair, and the other one is a platinum blond..."
"I do not want to know," Ron said from behind his hands. Of all the things for the psychotic room to show them, this was by far the worst. He'd rather have watched reruns of war atrocities. He told Malfoy this, and Malfoy scoffed at him.
"What's this stuff going to do to you, turn you gay? I think it's hilarious – just look at them."
Ron squinted briefly at the figures on the wall, then turned his back entirely. "Cock that huge would turn anyone gay. It's as big as a fire hydrant; how is he keeping that thing up without having lost blood supply to his vital organs already? Oh, fuck."
The room, obviously sensing Ron's evasive action, brought an identical moving image to life on the wall facing him. He experimentally turned to his left – the infernal pornography was still visible out of his peripheral vision, but anything was better than a frontal assault – and the wall in front of him, predictably, turned into a giant screen, projecting an image of a veiny erection that filled nearly the entire three meter square space.
"Fuck," Ron said, pointlessly. He sat down and buried his head in his lap to the best of his ability. Luckily, the Room seemed unwilling or unable to project images onto the floor.
"Funny there's no audio..." Draco mused, seemingly oblivious to Ron's discomfort. Or enjoying it, more likely.
"Don't you even –" Ron started, but before he could finish there was a click and some static and then a placid female voice like the ones heard in Ministry lifts, began to spew obscenities.
The blond suckled upon the ginger's man-nipples with alacrity, spreading his precious juices over the chiseled chest in a glimmering film...
Ron plugged up his ears.
On the screens, three blond heads suckled upon three chiseled ginger chests. Ron wished he could sink into the floor and never see or hear anything ever again.
And Malfoy was giggling. All right, maybe not an honest giggle; but there was a low, continuous, amused sound coming out of his throat as he watched. Much like a chuckle, or chortle. Ron scowled.
...Ron's gleaming manhood thrusts into Draco's awaiting entrance, gracing it with the delicate pre-come which was hiding within the folds of his delicate foreskin...
Ron sprang to his feet. "All right, that's it, Malfoy. Ha-ha, very funny; call the room off. Now."
Draco turned to him with a look of purest innocence on his face. "What are you on about?"
"This. This is all a joke, isn't it? Meant to embarrass me? It's using our names, Malfoy. I've had enough." Ron started counting, and made it all the way to four before Draco spoke.
"I have no more idea of why this is happening than you do, and I certainly did not start it."
"Then what're you so calm for? You knew this was going to happen."
"I did not know this was going to happen; if you recall, I was just as startled as you were. Also, you're the one with your dick up my arse, so." He gestured at the screen and Ron looked up despite himself. "I simply decided not to let the Room's diversionary tactics prevent me from trying to think of a way out."
"And?" Ron asked, incredulous.
"Did watching self-referential porn manage to help you think of something?"
"No, not yet, but I'm getting an idea. Nice vocabulary word there, Weasley."
It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "Think fast, okay; I can't stand much more of this."
As if on cue, the voice intoned, Fuck me harder Draco FUCK ME HARDER! YEAH THAT'S RIGHT FUCK ME IN THE ARSE WITH YOUR THROBBING MANMEAT UNTIL THE CUM DRIPS DOWN MY SWEATY THIGHS OH...
The voice was screaming too loudly now for Ron's fingers in his ears to block any of the words, but he doggedly kept them in. On the screen, the fair haired cartoon figure pounded his log-sized member into the red head's arse, miraculously not causing massive organ failure as he did it. "I will never have sex again," Ron mumbled, and dropped his head back between his knees.
"Ah, so you have had sex before," Draco said.
Ron rolled his eyes and chose to pretend he'd missed the remark over the loud voice of the narrator. "It's like some absurd dream," he moaned after some time. "Except one you can't wake up from."
"My dreams are never anything like this," Draco said. "What that says about you, I'm not sure..."
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy," Ron said. "I didn't say I ever had dreams like this, anyway."
"How else could you have known, then? You seemed to be pretty certain."
"What the hell, Malfoy; it was a metaphor. I have never had a dream like this. My mind is not twisted enough to come up with this shit – look, they're growing fucking tits now."
On the walls, both figures continued to writhe in the apparent throes of ecstasy, while their chests seethed and sprouted breasts of an alarmingly large size. To Ron's chagrin and the characters' obvious delight, the growth did not stop there, but continued in their nipples until the compact nubs had expanded into inches-long appendages, and then –
"They're dicks," Ron said, disbelieving. "The fucking nipples are fucking dicks."
"Not quite fucking dicks, yet..." Draco was grinning widely, and if Ron could have heard him over the earsplitting narration (OH RON YOUR VEINY DICKTITS ARE SO HOT I CAN'T STAND IT OH FUCK ME NOW...), he swore Draco would have been giggling.
"Think this is funny, do you," Ron grumbled.
"How can you not? It's ludicrous. Though I'm starting to doubt the Room has a point to making us sit through all of this."
Ron looked up against his better judgment and saw the red haired figure fellating both the blond's nipples at once, at the same time as he fucked his generous cleavage. "That's just not natural," he scoffed, fighting the wave of sick fascination that threatened to rise up.
"Exactly," Draco said.
Sighing heavily, Ron blocked his ears again, but even so, it became impossible to ignore that the narration was no longer strictly following the action on-screen. The voice was going on about tender stroking of inner thighs and soulful starings-into of eyes, while the animated figures were currently engaged in some activity that could not be accomplished without at least six cocks, the flexibility of ten men, and the strength of fifteen. The voice had even stopped screaming, miraculously enough, and was now down to a reasonable shout.
"I think..." Draco said, staring off into space as though talking to himself. He beckoned Ron. "Come up here, I've got an idea."
Ron rose warily, trying in vain not to see what was happening on the walls – there were bodily fluids involved that should never, ever have had the chance to escape their respective bodies – but unfortunately, this meant staring rather more directly than he'd have liked at Draco. Ever since Harry had called the truce between Slytherins and Gryffindors at the beginning of the year, Ron had avoided any kind of eye contact with Malfoy for fear of starting a fight and letting Harry down. And he'd managed pretty well, too; this was actually the first time in months he'd had to do more than glance at him.
"How come you've been avoiding me this year?" Draco asked. Perhaps he had read Ron's mind, or perhaps he had noticed the way Ron was staring fixedly at his tie in an attempt to avoid eye contact.
"Haven't been avoiding you."
"Yes, you have."
"Haven't been avoiding you any more than I've been avoiding Nott, or Bulstrode, or anybody, I meant. Don't see what this has to do with the Room going berserk."
"I just thought, maybe if you were avoiding me it would have made sense for the Room to try and get us back together."
"'Back' together? We were never together in the first place, Malfoy. Quite the opposite, if my memory serves."
Draco shrugged. "The Room doesn't know that. Best theory I could come up with, anyway."
Ron forgot himself and glared into Draco's eyes. "You want a theory? How about one where you fixed this whole thing yourself just to humiliate me? You're the one who thinks it's so damn funny, after all. And everyone knows that the Room of Requirement doesn't do a thing unless someone requires it of it." He glared harder, hoping it would force the last part of that sentence to make sense the way it had in his head. Draco's eyes were quite an unusual shade of pewter gray, and Ron realized belatedly that he was staring rather fixedly into them. He dropped his glare to the tie again.
"Everyone knows that Hogwarts has been going haywire since the battle. The ceiling of the Great Hall wouldn't show anything but wheeling vultures for two months, for fuck's sake. The staircases are still a hazard, a bog keeps spontaneously erupting on the fifth floor, and honestly, if I wanted to get together with you I could have picked a thousand more effective ways than this."
"I said you wanted to humiliate me." Ron eyed Draco warily.
"Well, it's obvious the Room wants us to get together; listen."
Draco stepped up to the gorgeous ginger and cupped his face in both of his hands, staring soulfully into the sparkling blue depths of his eyes. 'I have always loved you,' he breathed with fragrant breath, as he caressed Ron's plump lower lip with his...
"Fuck," Ron said. He suddenly missed the screaming dicktits.
"...or not," Draco said. "I think the Room is willing to compromise – it saw that it set its sights too high, perhaps, and is backpedaling. I don't want to wait around for it to start ramping things up again, though. Something tells me we won't get out of here until we do what it says."
"You can't be serious," Ron said. "You can't seriously be suggesting following instructions from a disembodied voice."
"It's worth a shot. Do you see any other way out?"
"No," Ron grunted at length, setting his jaw. "What does it want us to do?"
"I think it might be satisfied with a kiss," Draco said.
"A kiss," Ron repeated. This could not actually be happening.
"I don't know about you, Weasley, but I am personally incapable of growing penises out of my nipples. A kiss is a fairly easy task to accomplish."
Ron counted to twenty in his head. "Fine," he grunted.
Draco moved in ominously – and far too eagerly, in Ron's opinion - and Ron stopped him. "This never leaves this room," Ron warned.
"Never," Draco agreed.
Draco resumed his fatal lean in, this time unimpeded. For a second, Ron considered turning so the blow glanced off his cheek instead, but something – maybe the prospect of having to face the screen again (there were now tentacles in play), or maybe an aversion to staying locked in here one moment longer than necessary – kept him from doing it.
The kiss, when it came, was surprisingly gentle, and Ron found himself pressing into it instinctively before he remembered whose face those lips were attached to. To his everlasting surprise, Draco did not take advantage, only kissed back softly before withdrawing.
Later, if asked, Ron would place all the blame for the rush of heat to his groin that this simple contact elicited to the lurid images he'd been forced to stare at for the past hour. No matter how disgusting he found them, such a graphic depiction of sexuality must have had its effect on him at some level. It was only a natural response, nothing to do with the way the kiss had not lasted nearly long enough for something that felt that damn good, nor that Draco didn't immediately taunt him with it.
"Look, it worked," was all Draco said.
Ron, still reeling from the shock of his childhood enemy bestowing what for all appearances seemed to be genuine affection upon him, stumbled as he looked behind him. There, in the opposite wall, a doorway had opened. The walls were blank, and the voice, at some point, had gone silent.
After shaking his head to clear the daze, Ron followed Draco through the portal.
He was met by a chorus of resounding catcalls.
Ron cursed under his breath. The hallway was filled with most of the upper year Gryffindors and a few Slytherins, too, all grinning like lunatics and whistling lewdly.
Draco attempted to sneak off, but Ginny caught him by the arm and hauled him back.
"You two finally did it!" Hermione said, glowing.
"Did what?" Ron asked, already knowing he would regret the answer.
"It," Hermione said significantly, her gaze taking in Ron's rumpled hair and unbuttoned collar.
"Look, it got warm in there, all right?"
"I bet it did," Seamus chimed in.
"We didn't do anything, get it? The room just went haywire and we're lucky we were able to get out at all."
"And how did you get in?" a sixth-year quizzed.
"It looked like the DADA classroom, and I'd gotten turned around on the staircases."
"Yeah, me too." To Ron's surprise, Draco backed him up. "Had no idea I was even on the wrong floor."
The crowd nodded knowingly.
Ron sighed, exasperated. First the room, now this... "Would you just let us by?" He began to shoulder through the ranks of students.
"He said 'us'!" Ginny crowed.
"There is no 'us'!" Ron shouted over his shoulder as he made it into the clear hallway and sped up, Draco right behind him.
"Absolutely not, in any sense of the term!" Draco added, and then they ran for it.
"Never make it out of the room, eh?" Ron muttered.
Draco shrugged. "What else could we have done?"
In the end, Ron and Draco caved into the pressure and started fucking. It hardly mattered, they told each other, since everyone already thought they were doing it anyway. Thankfully, as Ron was glad to find out, Draco did not have a penis the size of his thigh, and neither were they able sprout cocks from their chest, no matter how hard they tried. They did, however, become fond of several inventive positions that, if asked, they would always swear they had just thought up themselves.