Author's Note: This was entirely inspired by the HBP movie. Ron has always been 100% hetero in my mind... until that damned movie.
A Hint of Revenge
Ron hung back in the showers, waiting until the others had left, soaking his shame beneath the pounding hot water. The congratulations of the others had been bitter as a foul-flavoured Bertie Bott's bean.
It had been luck. Sheer, ludicrous luck that had landed him a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. By all rights, it should have been Cormac. The boy could really play… or at least he could right up until the end, there. It seemed Cormac's luck had deserted him for Ron.
Ron shut off the water and dressed, thankful that the others had gone. He felt wretched, wracked with guilt. He needed to confess, but the excitement of making the team was like a drug. It had fired his blood and silenced his tongue.
I'll just have to get better, he rationalized. I'll practice loads.
He noted that it was getting dark as he made his way along the path that led back to the castle. It was near dinner time and his stomach was growling. He quickened his step, but was suddenly launched through the air. His shoulder slammed into the trunk of a nearby tree and he almost went down, but a fist gripped his jumper and shoved him back against the tree, hard.
"What was that about, Weasley?" a voice hissed angrily.
Ron blinked into the angry face of Cormac McLaggen.
"What was what about?" he cried, guilt making his voice shrill.
"Don't play stupid with me! I was Confunded! Did you do it? Or was it one of your damned friends? Was it Potter?"
Understanding suddenly dawned. Of course. Someone had cast a Confundus on Cormac. Bloody hell, that was why he had flown so badly!
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Ron snapped. It sounded weak even to his ears and he felt a sudden flare of anger toward Hermione. So, she hadn't thought Ron could make the team on his own, had she? She had decided to help him.
Cormac pulled him forward by the jumper and then slammed him back against the tree. Ron made an undignified sound and grimaced.
"Sure you don't, Weasley. Prick. Not moving so fast now, are you? Where are your cheating friends when you need them?"
Ron glared and raised his hands to shove at Cormac's chest, but the boy was taller and heavier. Ron's attempt to move him was ineffectual.
"Get off me, McLaggen. I don't have anything to do with your inability to play a decent game of Quidditch, so bugger off!"
Cormac's chest crushed against Ron's suddenly, forcing his breath out with a whoosh. From the new position, Ron's hands were even more ineffective, pinned between them. He had no leverage to fend off his attacker. Cormac's breath panted against his face, smelling of peppermint and chocolate, which seemed incongruous considering Ron's position.
Ron struggled and jerked his leg upwards, trying to smash his knee into Cormac's privates and get him to leave off, but Cormac was too quick. He booted Ron's foot aside and manoeuvred his legs so that Ron's feet were spread wide. When he finished the movement, Ron's toes barely touched the ground. His eyes widened in horror when he realized he was half-straddling Cormac's thighs. He could barely breathe through the pressure on his torso. It was a shockingly intimate position.
"You seem nervous, Ronnie," Cormac said in a purring tone that did nothing to calm Ron's nerves.
Cormac's chest pulled away, allowing Ron to drag in welcome gulps of cool air. He tried to snatch his hands free, but Cormac grabbed his wrists and yanked them over his head. He held them in place with one large hand even as Ron tugged frantically, half-fearing what was coming. Cormac took his wand from a pocket and cast a quick spell, binding Ron's wrists firmly to the tree with magical ropes.
"What are you doing?" Ron shouted, struggling harder. To his horror, his movements only lodged him more firmly onto Cormac's thighs—their groins were pressed tightly together and Ron could feel a slight bulge against his cock. Oh dear Merlin, it was Cormac's prick. His cock was touching another man's! Even if it was through cloth, it was still highly disturbing.
"I haven't quite decided, yet," Cormac said conversationally. "But I am starting to get a few ideas." He shifted his hips—accidentally, Ron hoped—and the bulge slid over Ron's cock in a fashion that was decidedly not pleasant. Not pleasant, not pleasant, not pleasant at all. Ron repeated it several more times, because Cormac's breath was now hot in his ear and his hands were curling into the material of Ron's jumper.
"This is a really heinous jumper, Ronnie," Cormac said. "It doesn't do a thing for you." With that, he tugged the hem from Ron's trousers, making him break out in gooseflesh when the cool evening air touched his abdomen.
"Are you completely bent?" Ron demanded. He wanted to squirm, but his cock being lodged firmly against Cormac's restrained him from moving at all.
"Oh no, not completely," Cormac replied as his hands pushed the knit fabric up until it bunched over Ron's chest, exposing his nipples to—Merlin!—to Cormac's questing fingers. "But, perhaps just a bit."
"What?" Ron's question was a strangled gasp and he could not seem to dredge up additional words, because Cormac's hands were quite warm and teasing his nipples into hard peaks, pinching them between thumbs and forefingers.
"You have a pretty chest, Ronnie," Cormac said and then crouched a bit. Ron was torn between relief and alarm—relief because Cormac's cock was suddenly no longer pushing against his own, and alarm because Cormac's hot mouth fastened on one nipple, tearing a strangled cry from his throat.
He tried to move his stance, but Cormac's legs still held his open and now his hands gripped Ron's hips tightly, pushing him into the rough bark of the tree. His tongue laved the nipple and then he sucked at it greedily. To Ron's horror, it felt brilliant. Cormac worked at the nub with his tongue and lips, sending shivers of delight through Ron's body, and then switched to the other one.
Ron knew he could probably yell for help. They were not far from the path and they would be completely visible if someone should happen along—which was a very disturbing thought.
"Stop," he said weakly.
"Really?" Cormac asked and nibbled at his nipple with a gentle pressure of teeth. Ron felt something else press against his cock. Press and squeeze. Merlin, it was Cormac's hand. Ron was utterly mortified to find that his cock was half-hard… and getting harder. "Really, Ronnie? I don't think you want me to stop. I think you want me to suck something else."
The very idea made Ron feel faint. Would Cormac really…?
"No," Ron breathed, trying not to thrust forward into Cormac's palm.
"You're usually so good with insults, Ronnie. Try one now. Say, 'Suck me, Cormac.' You can do it."
Ron tried to speak and failed. Failed miserably because Cormac was kneading his cock, which was completely, painfully, hard.
"Say it," Cormac urged.
"Suck me, Cormac," Ron whispered, trying to pretend it was an insult and not a request.
Ron shut his eyes, not wanting to see the triumph in the blue eyes as he felt Cormac drop to his knees. He knew it was his chance—he should kick the prat in the head and… and what? He couldn't reach the wand in his back pocket with his hands bound over his head. He was helpless until Cormac decided to free him.
That rationalization made him feel slightly better as Cormac's fingers unfastened the lacing of his trousers and tugged them open. His face flamed as he realized he hadn't worn pants—normally after Quidditch he would just drag on his trousers and change clothes back in the dorm.
"Well, well, well, Ronnie. Ready for me, I see."
Ron would have made a sharp comment, but then Cormac's tongue flicked over the underside of his cock and his ability to speak disappeared completely. Merlin, he had dreamed of this. He had wanked to the very idea of it hundreds of times—although it had always been a girl performing the act—but the reality was so much better.
He realized it didn't matter—if he shut his eyes he could believe it was anyone. He thought about Hermione as the hot mouth took in his entire cock, sucking it deeper than he would have believed possible.
Ron's eyes snapped open and he stared down at Cormac, whose blue eyes fixed on his, destroying the fantasy. Fuck, it was the hottest sight ever. Cormac McLaggen's lips slid back, exposing Ron's wet cock bit by bit. Ron felt Cormac's tongue delve into the slit, sending a hot jolt speeding through his blood. His hands twisted in his bonds.
Cormac took it in completely, until his nose pressed into Ron's red curls, and then he drew back again. The slow movement was maddening. Ron wanted to thrust forward, fucking his hot mouth, but Cormac's fingers still gripped his hips tightly, holding him in place. The blue eyes never left his.
"Faster," Ron begged.
Cormac made a humming sound that sent another jolt through Ron, but he obediently sped his movements, sucking hard with every withdrawing motion and using his tongue on every down stroke.
"Godric!" Ron cried when it quickly became too much. His balls tightened and his thighs quivered as the orgasm spiked. Cormac pulled back and Ron stared as pale come spurted over Cormac's reddened lips and dripped down over his chin. It was a sight he knew he would never forget.
Cormac got to his feet and crushed his mouth against Ron's, thrusting his tongue inside. Ron nearly recoiled at the bitter taste of his own release, but there was something insanely erotic about it, as well. He felt weak in the aftermath and could do little else but submit to Cormac's kiss, which wasn't nearly as unpleasant as it should have been.
Cormac finally pulled away and pulled out his wand once more. He smirked at Ron as he spelled his face clean. Ron could feel wetness on his own chin and upper lip. He restrained the urge to lick it, fearing it would be misconstrued.
"Well, Ronnie. The way I see it, you now owe me twice. Once for cheating me out of a spot on the Quidditch team and once for a blowjob. I will have to think about how to collect. It's a weighty matter."
Cormac stepped back and tapped his wand against his hand thoughtfully. His eyes moved over Ron, who felt very exposed despite their recent activity. His softening cock hung free, still damp with Cormac's saliva, and his jumper only partially covered one nipple. He glared at Cormac and waited to be freed.
"Very weighty, indeed," Cormac said before turning to walk away.
"What? Wait!" Ron cried.
"I'll get back to you on that, Ronnie!" Cormac called.
Ron yanked at his bonds, suddenly frantic. The movement dislodged his jumper, which dropped to cover his torso, but it was not nearly long enough to conceal his cock.
"McLaggen!" he bellowed.
The sound of retreating footsteps was his only response.