Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry Potter / Ronald Weasley, mentions of HP/GW
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry was Ron’s first, and he wasn’t going to give him up without a fight.
Notes/Dedications: I never thought that I would write this pairing, and usually exclude it from lists of pairings that I am willing to write, but then my muse laughed at me, and this happened. This be porn of very little plot. Written specifically for The Harry Potter Quills for a Cause.
Harry had been his best friend for years – so long that it was hard to remember a time that he wasn’t there – before Voldemort, before Hogwarts, before the meeting on the train when Harry took one look at his disappointed face and bought him a whole cart of sweets because he’d been a decent bloke. Ron wasn’t sure when the rest came, when he’d fallen in love, or known that he wanted to be with Harry in that way.
However, even if he had thought about it, wanted it, once Ginny and Harry had gotten together, that had been the end of any aspirations that he may have had in that direction. They were best mates, with pub nights on Thursday nights, dinner and drinks with Hermione every Tuesday, and Sunday dinners with the family. Nothing had changed – except that Ginny had moved into Harry’s place, much to their mother’s chagrin, and he was sleeping beside her every night while Ron still lay alone in his room across the hall, when he wasn’t on the road with the Cannons, and she would roll her eyes or purse her lips in a way that was too reminiscent of their mother if he intruded too much on their “quality time” together.
Except, sometimes, the sounds of them making love would drift across the hall, and leave him hard and restless, but he couldn’t *do* anything about it, because that was his *sister* in there, contributing to those sounds, and making Harry moan and grunt, and whimper in that way he did when he came – like he had to hide how good it was or someone would take it away. So, he tossed and turned for hours, trying to ignore his arousal, and slept like there was still a war going on.
Maybe, Ginny was right with all of her prodding that he should move out and get a life of his own, but part of him didn’t want to concede defeat, because Harry was his first, before Harry even knew Ginny. Even if she was his sister, didn’t mean he had to let her win. Unless, she really was what Harry wanted, and then it wasn’t about Ginny winning, so much as him losing, but that wasn’t her choice to make. Harry would be the one to choose, and Ron had a feeling that he was finally realizing that there was a choice to make.
It wouldn’t be easy for either of them, if Harry broke his sister’s heart. The family would be right pissed about him coming between the golden couple, and who you’re sleeping with may not be a huge deal, unless you are Harry fucking Potter, and the Hero of the Wizarding world, fulfilling some preordained fairy tale ending about Happily Ever After, that didn’t have room for dropping the fairy princess to go off and shag her brother.
Still, he looked over to where Harry was making little snuffling noises into the pillow next to him, and knew that he should wake him up, and give him a chance to go crawl into bed next to his sister, and pretend that this had never happened. However, some perverse part of him wanted Ginny to find her boyfriend in his bed, freshly fucked, with no way to deny what had happened between them while she laid passed out in the other room. It may have been the result of too much wine all around, but he wanted… he wanted.
Harry had spared no expense in throwing the party for her birthday and he thought that both she and Mum were a little disappointed that the expected proposal hadn’t been anywhere in sight. After half the evening had passed, and the presents were opened (Harry had gotten her a pretty cream shawl) and the guests were starting to make their excuses, with no hint of a sparkly ring, Ginny’s temper had started to get a little frayed, and she started downing champagne like it was butter beer. Mum had tutted sympathetically over her when she left, and that had just made her drink more.
After the guests had left, Harry asked Ron to help put her to bed, as she was a little worse for the wear (or spectacularly pissed). He didn’t mind helping him, except that suddenly, the reason her evening had been such a disappointment was all his fault, for being there, and getting between them, and she started trying to show Harry just how good she could be for him. Ron probably would have had to scourgify his eyes, if she hadn’t passed out shortly after that.
Except that her persuasion had a visible effect on Harry, and he blushed when Ron took in his mussed state and obvious arousal. Harry tried to shrug it off, but Ron couldn’t get the image out of his mind, even when he cleared his throat and croaked out that they should go and clean up a bit, or Ginny really would be a hag come morning.
When they got to the living room, Harry was still embarrassed, despite the ‘just two blokes, nothing to see here’ vibe they had going on, and Ron was doing his best to avoid looking at him, or remembering how debauched Harry had looked standing there with swollen lips and mussed hair, and an obvious erection tenting his trousers. Then, they reached for the bin at the same time, and Ron couldn’t hold back a moan as Harry’s hand brushed against his. Harry looked at him, with a shocked expression, and then deliberately rubbed his thumb against the back of Ron’s hand with a quizzical expression. Ron dropped the bin, and the bottle he was holding, and swore, while trying to back away.
Harry followed him, until he was backed against the counter, practically dissecting him with his gaze. Ron tried to look anywhere but at Harry, but he found himself drawn to those brilliant emerald eyes that sometimes saw too much, and almost wishing that this could be one of those times when Harry was blind to what was right in front of him. Then he was thankful that it wasn’t, because even as the color rose in his face, Harry was reaching for him, and stroking his hand through Ron’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss.
It felt like the best kind of magic, arcing across their skin, between their lips, and Ron pulled Harry closer, deepening the kiss, and arching his hips to feel Harry’s arousal pressing against his own. One of them groaned at the contact, and then their clothes started meeting the rest of the debris from the party, as they shed them without finesse. Harry was faster, taking Ron’s erection into his hand and stroking it slowly, while all Ron could do was reach for Harry’s hips and hold on.
It felt so good, but Ron wanted more than just a quick, shared wank. He pushed Harry back, so that he stumbled a bit, and fell to his knees before him, like he had dreamed about on the floor of changing rooms, and loos, when he had done this for other blokes that were mere stand-ins for this moment, this man. He licked the head of Harry’s cock, teasing the ridge under the head, moistening it with his lips and tongue before sliding his lips down the shaft. He felt Harry’s hand grab at his hair, and moaned in pleasure as Harry began to rock in and out of his mouth. He relaxed his mouth, and began tonguing every inch he could reach, grabbing Harry’s hips, and encouraging him to fuck him, faster, harder. He didn’t want him to hold back anything, and he showed him what he wanted without words.
Harry caught on quickly, and Ron could hear those little moans that he had dreamed about coming from his lips as he sucked him, and reached up between his legs to rub his heavy balls. Harry started humping even faster, then, and so he slid one finger into his mouth, alongside Harry’s cock, and wet it with his tongue, as Harry pushed in and out. He pulled the damp finger from his mouth, and drew it up behind Harry’s balls, toward his ass. Harry groaned and widened his stance to let Ron reach his opening, and Ron circled the tight pucker with his finger and then pushed it inside, with he took Harry as far into his mouth as he could and sucked hard, working his throat around the head.
He almost choked, when Harry reacted by grabbing his hair and pushing forward hard, but a moment later, Harry was coming in jerky strokes, and he gulped down air in between swallowing the cum that was flooding his mouth. The sound of Harry making those little whimpering noises while Ron made him come, was almost enough to send him over the edge, too, but he managed to hold on, though he was getting almost desperate for relief.
Ron pressed his hand against his aching erection, to temporarily abate his need, and stood back, up to take Harry, who was still trembling in his arms. He was worried that he was going to fuck all of this up, that he would lose his friend, by giving into his desired, but he wouldn’t trade this moment for the world, especially when Harry took his face between his hands and leaned in for a slow, deep kiss.
When Harry pulled back to look into his eyes and whispered hoarsely, “I want to touch you,” Ron groaned and pushed his hips against Harry’s. He allowed Harry to take him by the hand and lead him to his bedroom, with no thought of denying this beautiful man.
Harry laid him down on the bed, and slowly explored every inch of his skin, leaving no part of him untouched or untasted, until Ron was boneless with pleasure. When Harry finally took Ron’s cock into his hand and stroked it with purpose, Ron’s orgasm raced through his veins, and poured out over Harry’s hand. They kissed with lazy, open mouthed pleasure, and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, better than any dream that Ron could imagined.
Now, it was morning, and the sun was rising on a new day. Ron didn’t know what the future held for him and Harry, or for Ginny, who was still asleep across the hall, but he wasn’t willing to give this up without a fight. Harry was his – first, last and always.