Title: A Lesson In Anger Management
Summary: Ron receives a lesson in controlling his temper by none other than Draco Malfoy.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all rights.
Warning: Slash. Questionable Consent. Rated M for a reason.
Word Count: ~1 400
Ron Weasley was having a terrible night.
He was at a Ministry function full of pureblood prats and people didn't know, or care to know. Hermione had broken up with him a few hours before. "Taking a break" she'd called it. Harry was miffed about some muttered remarks Ron had made about the pureblood crowd on the way here.
"You can't get away with this crap any longer!" He'd snapped, green eyes flashing. "Your temper isn't a justification for the way you behave. You're becoming as bigoted as the people you say you hate! Someone is going to call you on it at work and the consequences are going to be harsh. You've already pushed Hermione away. You need to smarten up."
Ron clenched his teeth at the memory. After that spiel Harry had stalked away, leaving Ron to pass the time at the gathering smiling painfully at his superiors and avoiding everyone else.
Some friend he is. Ron thought to himself darkly.
So here he was; drinking enough to just barely tolerate his setting but not drinking enough to enjoy himself. Because if he was going enjoy himself he'd probably end up starting fights, get thrown out and pass out somewhere. That'd be a good time.
Ron spotted a suave figure across the room. He narrowed his eyes. That ponce, Zabini was chumming it up with a couple members of the Wizengamot. Since graduating Hogwarts Zabini had become a business mogul, of sort. His richly tailored robes were an understatement of subtle wealth. He smiled coolly and collectedly hobnobbed amongst the powerful. Ron would love to punch him in the face.
A few tables over from him his fellow Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, was sloppy, drunk, loud, drunk and a waste of wizarding space. And very, very drunk. He was currently leading the oafs sitting around him in a round of drinking songs while they clutched their wine glasses like tankards and spilled booze on their robes. Ron rolled his eyes and sneered to himself. He'd always known Malfoy would amount to nothing.
Rolling his shoulders to try to get the tension out of them Ron downed the last of the liquid in his glass, set it on the tray of a passing waiter and made his way to the loo.
He passed the urinals to the full length mirror on the far wall and stared at his reflection. His eyes were tired, his skin looked pale. He put a hand to his forehead and rubbed at a burgeoning headache. Then he shook out his hands because, dammit, his fists were sore from clenching and unclenching all night. His jaw was kinda sore from that too.
Ron rolled his eyes at the thought of what Hermione would say about that. Anger management issues, indeed. He was justified in being angry at stupid people doing stupid things and he managed it. Where was the issue in that?
Ron blew out a breath in frustration.
"To hell with the lot of them." He muttered.
He walked over to the urinals and unfastened his robes. As he was attending to business none other than Draco Malfoy stumbled in.
He lurched to the sinks, barely catching himself from falling. Half singing, half mumbling to himself he turned on the taps and bent his head down. He misjudged the distance and whacked his head on the faucet. Ron snickered. Malfoy looked behind him and glared blearily at Ron, then returned to splashing water on his face.
Halfway through this spectacle Zabini strolled in. He took his friend by the neck of his robes and hauled him up.
"Drink this." He ordered and held a vial of pale liquid to Draco's face.
"Donwantshaaaaaa …" Malfoy moaned. Zabini ignored him and tipped the vial down his throat anyways. Malfoy looked like he was about to vomit before belching a thick cloud of violet smoke.
"That's disgusting, Blaise." He whined.
"If you didn't keep getting yourself completely wasted I wouldn't have to keep sobering you up."
"Didn't look like a sobering potion to me." Ron remarked. Blaise and Draco turned and stared at him, as if realizing he was there for the first time.
"It's a half sobering potion." Zabini finally said. Ron quirked an eyebrow.
"If I gave him a full sobering potion he'd hex me." The Italian explained. "This way he's more lucid but still can't best me in a duel." He turned to look at Malfoy. "Hurry up and make yourself presentable. Your father asked me to introduce you to the head of Snargs Corp. and I'm not going to present you to him drunk." With those instructions he turned sharply and left.
Malfoy glared, first and Zabini's back then at Ron. He muttered something darkly and resumed splashing water on his face.
Ron snickered and turned back to his business. He finished up and joined Malfoy at the sinks. While washing his hands he watched out of the corner of his eye as Malfoy fussed endlessly over his hair.
"Ponce." He muttered under his breath. He turned to leave but Malfoy's voice stopped him.
"Wha' was that, Weasel?"
Ron's temper sparked at the address but he rolled his neck muscles and kept walking.
Without warning Malfoy lunged at him and shouldered him into the wall. Ron hit the wall hard, his head slamming back into the granite hard enough to see stars.
"Stupid weasel-faced Weasel." Malfoy snarled. Ron struggled to reach his wand as Malfoy shoved and held him against the stone.
"Get off me you filthy fag!" Ron managed to extract his wand but a wild swing from Malfoy hit it out of his hand and sent it skittering across the floor.
"Fag! Fag!" Malfoy leaned in close. Ron realized that despite the half-sobering potion he still reeked of alcohol. "I'll show you!" Malfoy hissed.
His hand came up viper like and struck Ron under the chin. His head snapped back into the wall again. Black spots appeared in his vision and he willed himself to remain standing.
Hands grabbed his robes and battled with his trousers. Before Ron knew what was happening sloppy lips and a wild tongue had engulfed his cock. He blinked to make sure that wasn't a concussion induced sensation but when he looked down Malfoy was savagely sucking him off. Short moments passed before both of Ron's heads were throbbing in pain.
Malfoy was sucking with a fervency of a lunatic. Ron grabbed his hair and yanked him back. He didn't succeed at dislodging him but the frenzy lessened and pain because pleasure. Keeping a harsh grip on his hair Ron let the Malfoy heir fellate his cock.
Ron was paralyzed by the sheer bizarreness of the situation. Against his will his balls tightened as Malfoy rolled them between his long, pale fingers. A moan escaped him. Hearing the sound Malfoy's actions changed. He began to pleasure him with all the intoxicated finesse he had.
After long moments of torture Ron's harsh breathing began to drown out the slurping of his cock. His fists were rhythmically clenching and unclenching in Malfoy's hair. Malfoy's face was flushed red with exertion and lack of oxygen. He brought a finger up and wet it in the excess saliva that was dripping down Ron's member. When it was thoroughly lubricated he rammed it up Ron's ass.
Ron let out a shriek of pain and came explosively down Malfoy's throat at the same time. His balls pumped out his seed harder and faster than he had ever come for Hermione.
When the last of it had trickled out Malfoy dislodged his finger and stood up. Stepping back he wiped the semen that was dribbling down his chin.
"Take that, Weasel." He said in a voice rough from deep throating. Impossibly Ron felt his penis twitch with interested. Thankfully Malfoy turned and stumbled out, leaving Ron with his pants down leaning against the bathroom wall.
He stood there stunned for a few minutes before becoming aware of his reflection in the mirror. He flushed with embarrassment and quickly pulled up his trousers and tucked himself in.
He returned to the sink and gingerly patted some cold water onto his head. He was sure he'd have a lump the size of a dragon egg there tomorrow. He moved to the door and winced at the pain in his arse. Draco Malfoy had just forcibly given him a blow job in the loo of the Ministry and shoved a finger in his ass - and Ron had gotten off on it.
It was horrible. It was disgusting. It was revoltingly horrific. And Ron would be properly furious about it.
As soon as the post sex afterglow wore off.
Ron walked out of the men's loo whistling.