Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You've Always Been Mine	By : Mamacita Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Draco/Ron Views: 7415 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
Virgins? What Virgins?

Hogwarts, Secret Room
11 Dec 2005

Ron looked down at Draco, who lay on the bed between Ron’s knees. For a moment all he could do was look; it was so dazzling to think that they were really alone together, able to express the passion that had been building between them for so many years.

It fairly took his breath away.

“What?” Draco asked, bemused at the peculiar expressions crossing Ron’s face—part lust, part wistfulness, and part something Draco couldn’t identify.

“Ah...nothing, really. It’s just hard to believe this is finally happening. I mean—gods, Draco, do you realize how long this has been coming?” As soon as the words left his mouth he thought better of them, but of course it was too late.

Draco pounced immediately. “But Ron,” he said, his expression far too innocent for Ron to believe. “You haven’t come at all.” He raised one hand and ran his finger teasingly over the empurpled head of Ron’s cock.

“No,” Ron gritted out, “but if you do that much more I’m liable to go off like—like—” He groaned and gripped Draco’s hand which had been about to make a repeat visit in order to test Ron’s threat.

Draco grinned unrepentantly. So quickly that Ron, distracted as he was, couldn’t prevent it, Draco gave a great heave of his legs, toppling Ron off to one side.

“Hey!” he protested weakly, but Draco shook his head.

“My turn,” he said, shaking an admonitory finger. He moved around so he lay between Ron’s legs, and patted them gently. “Up,” he said, and Ron bent his knees and pulled his legs up a bit. Draco gave a sigh of pure contentment at the feast spread out before him.

He lowered his head and, burying his nose in Ron’s bright-red thatch, took a deep whiff. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned.

What was that for? Ron wondered. He tried to look down at Draco, but without a pillow behind him the angle was a little awkward, and all he could see was the top of Draco’s head. Oh gods, he thought miserably, I must really stink!

He gently grasped both sides of Draco’s head and tried to lift him away. “Draco—wait,” he said, sunk in embarrassment. “You don’t have to—”

Draco’s head popped up. “What?” he said thickly. “Don’t you—you don’t want me to —” He looked at Ron, clearly disappointed, a tiny frown marring the smoothness of his forehead. “Please, Ron?” he pleaded. “I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like it. Just let me try, okay?”

Ron stared at him for a moment. “You mean...you really want to?” he asked, not entirely convinced.

“Too right I want to,” Draco assured him. “I’ve waited long enough for this—you can’t back out now,” he said imploringly. As he spoke, his breath wafted over the base of Ron’s cock, causing it to grow even harder.

Any more of that and I’ll be able to go into the diamond-cutting business, Ron thought. Aloud he said, “Well—if you’re sure. I thought maybe I—maybe it was kind of—” He floundered, wishing he’d just left well enough alone.

“Kind of what?” Draco asked, his grey eyes mystified.

Ron clapped one hand over his eyes. He didn’t want to say it—even hearing it in his own mind, he could tell how stupid it sounded.

Draco nudged him insistently. “What?” he repeated.

Ron spread his fingers just enough so he could see Draco through them. “Smelly,” he said succinctly. What little could be seen of his face was beet-red.

Draco looked surprised for a minute, then his lips started to twitch. Irresistibly, so did Ron’s as he eyed Draco through his spread fingers. Suddenly they were both laughing like loons, roaring until their sides ached. Draco dropped his forehead back down on Ron and howled.

Eventually they wound down until only an occasional giggle was heard. Draco sighed.

“You,” he said, looking at Ron and shaking his head sadly, “are a world-class idiot, you know that?”

“You do say the nicest things, Draco,” Ron said with a snicker.

Draco toyed with Ron’s pubic hair for a moment, and Ron forgot about laughing. He squeezed his eyes shut at the renewed ache in his balls. Then Draco looked up at him.

“In all honesty, Ron...shall I tell you what you smell like?”

Ron’s breath caught, and his stomach fluttered uncomfortably as he braced himself for whatever unpleasant news Draco was about to give him. Right—he was ready for the worst.

Draco sniffed again, experimentally. “You smell like...heat...and sex...and....” He breathed deeply. “I don’t know—you just smell like you, I guess. And no—” he held up a hand to forestall Ron’s inevitable retort— “you are not smelly. You make my mouth water.” He quirked an eyebrow in a fashion that was pure Malfoy and bent once more to his task.

Ron gave himself up to sensation as Draco found his most secret places and made them throb with pleasure. He took Ron’s balls in his mouth and gently sucked them back and forth, swishing them against his teeth. This elicited a strangled moan from Ron, so Draco did it some more.

He settled himself more comfortably, draping Ron’s legs over his shoulders so he could raise Ron’s hips and gain access to the smooth skin behind his balls, now shiny with saliva. Draco wiggled just the tip of his tongue ever so lightly along the elastic bit of skin there, alternating with tiny, delicate swipes. Ron sounded like he might be close to tears. Draco’s hands, full of Ron’s ass cheeks, gave a reassuring squeeze.

When Draco pulled Ron’s cock down and back toward his mouth, Ron stopped breathing for a moment. Draco’s breath ghosted over the head and he felt Ron’s legs stiffen and then begin to shake. Just as the tip of Draco’s tongue began to explore the tiny slit, Ron gasped, “Stop—stop for a minute!”

“You okay?” asked a startled Draco.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “but this isn’t how I wanted it to happen.” He slid his legs off Draco’s shoulders, and Draco obligingly moved up, propping himself up with his elbows on either side of Ron’s torso so he could see him properly.

“How d’you mean?” Draco asked.

Ron reddened but went doggedly on. “The first time I come with you,” he said quietly, “I want to—to be the one taking you.” He met Draco’s eyes almost defiantly, waiting for him to laugh.

But Draco’s eyes were hot; he certainly wasn’t laughing. “Really? That’s what you want—now?” he asked. Ron nodded. Draco’s lips pursed in a silent whistle. Then he smiled, an ineffably sweet smile that made Ron long to kiss him all over and hold him close.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Draco confessed. “Okay, then—take me. But do it soon, because—” he smiled and winced simultaneously— “I’m so bloody hard right now, I’ve got to do something!” It was true; the very thought of—his!—Ron buried inside him had brought Draco’s cock fully erect immediately.

Ron came to his knees and motioned for Draco to lie down on his stomach, then Ron straddled him. He leaned over and whispered “Thank you” into Draco’s ear; Draco turned his head to the side and simply looked at him, the remnant of that same sweet smile on his lips.

As Ron straightened his cock fell naturally into the crack of Draco’s ass. He shuddered as he rubbed it back and forth a few times. Then he sat up and began to work his hands in circles over Draco’s cheeks, massaging them. Every time his hands moved outward he pushed down a little, pulling the high, rounded mounds apart and exposing the wrinkled secret within.

Finally he could wait no longer. With one hand he held Draco’s cheeks apart and gently rubbed the outside of the little pucker, up and down, feeling the minute folds of skin roll over each other. Draco’s body shook with each pass of Ron’s finger.

But enough playing. Ron eased the tip of one blunt forefinger just inside and held it there, not moving. Draco seemed to be waiting, so Ron pushed a bit further.

“Uh—Ron?”

Immediately the finger withdrew. “Yeah?”

Draco lifted his head to look back at Ron. “In the little table there—” he pointed at the nightstand— “there’s, um, a vial. Of—of lubricant. I wasn’t sure if you knew a lubricating charm and, well, I don’t, so....”

He felt Ron’s weight lift as Ron fetched the vial. Then he repositioned himself astride Draco’s thighs. “Thanks,” Ron said. “Sorry if I—was I hurting you?”

“Oh no,” came the cheerful reply. “Only, see, I’ve seen what you’re going to be putting in there soon, and it’s so bloody enormous I think we’re going to need some help, don’t you?”

“Okay,” Ron breathed. He removed the small glass stopper and tipped the vial slightly. The liquid inside was thick, and of a golden amber color. A fat drop hung for a moment on the rim of the vial and then descended with a soft plop to land directly on target, making Draco jump. Ron debated, then added one more drop before replacing the stopper securely and placing the vial on the nightstand.

He smeared the golden fluid around, smiling to himself as Draco wriggled in delight. It had an odd consistency and wasn’t nearly as thick as it had appeared in the vial. After a minute he also realized that the more he rubbed it, the more slippery it became.

Once again his hand hovered just outside Draco’s glory hole, and he pushed one finger in just to the first knuckle. It slid easily this time, and he pushed further, past the tough ring of muscle and into the blazing hot channel beyond. Draco was breathing in little gasps and pants, and he kept pushing his hips back against Ron’s hand encouragingly.

After a few moments Ron pulled his finger out and added a second one. He pushed back in, rotating his hand and spreading his fingers apart in a scissoring motion to stretch Draco.

Hearing the little whimpers mixed with the panting and gasping sounds Draco was making, Ron suddenly couldn’t wait any longer. He was afraid if he didn’t get inside Draco soon he would explode all over Draco’s back, the bed, the walls—hell, quite possibly even the ceiling, he was so impossibly hard.

He pulled his fingers out and lifted up slightly. Then he grasped Draco’s hips with a whispered word, urging him up on all fours. “Ready?” he asked.

Draco nodded. “Merlin, I want you so much,” he said shakily.

Ron smeared what he could of the lubricant from his fingers onto the head of his cock, then laid it against Draco’s opening. As both of them held their breath, he began to move slowly forward, spreading Draco’s cheeks wide to help open the way. The ring of muscle was tight around Ron’s sensitive skin—so deliciously tight! And then, with the feel of something suddenly giving way, he was past it.

Draco groaned and Ron stopped instantly. “You okay?” he asked in a strained voice, rubbing his hands up and down Draco’s back. After a moment Draco nodded hesitantly.

“It’s—it’s okay,” he said. “It’s just so much—more—than I expected.”

Ron looked down in dismay, not sure whether he should be flattered or concerned. “Really?” he croaked. “Mate, that’s not nearly all of it yet! D’you want me to stop?” I can, he told himself. For him. If I have to. I think....

But Draco was muffling a snort of laughter. “No, I just meant—ah, never mind. It feels brilliant. Keep going, Ron—please!”

Relieved, Ron inched a bit further until he was halfway in. Then Draco suddenly pushed back hard, and they both gasped as the rest of Ron’s cock slid home and his pelvis slapped up against Draco’s ass. Draco let out his breath with an odd sort of whistling sound, then after a long moment he nodded.

“Okay.”

Cautiously, Ron began to move. He pulled most of the way out, then slowly pushed back in, feeling Draco’s passage squeeze him with a heat so amazing he never could have imagined anything like it. Every time the head of his cock was about to pull out, just the edge of the glans teasing at the sphincter, Draco moaned in delight and pushed back against him. Ron gradually picked up speed. Soon Draco’s head was thrashing wildly back and forth; every time Ron hit that one wonderful spot Draco cried out, until it all became too much for Ron’s overloaded senses and, with a shout, something inside him let go. He shuddered and came so hard that he clung fiercely to Draco to keep from falling, afraid he was going to black out.

When Draco felt the heat spurting into him from Ron, he let out a muffled cry and climaxed. After a moment his arms suddenly gave out and he collapsed into a wet, sticky, rapidly cooling puddle of his own making. Ron, taken by surprise, fell on top of him. They both lay there for a moment, winded.

Ron finally withdrew, as gently as he could, and flopped down beside Draco, whose face, he now saw, was wet with tears. Ron stared at him, appalled. He had actually gone and...made Draco cry?

“Oh, Merlin,” he whispered. “I hurt you. Draco—gods, I’m so sorry! Are you—does it—will you be all right? Should we...go to Madam Pomfrey...do you think?” Draco watched, an amused light in his eyes, as Ron babbled.

“Are you finished?” he asked when Ron finally fell silent. Ron, a bit affronted at this rude dismissal of his concern, just stared at him.

Draco reached for Ron’s hand. “You git,” he said fondly. “I’m not crying because your bloody great cock has split my arse in two—although I think it just might have,” he said with a slight wince.

“But—” Ron wiped a tear from Draco’s cheek with one thumb and held it up— “what’s all this about, then?”

Draco shrugged. “Dunno—not really something I can control, I guess,” he said. “Just a reaction. It doesn’t mean anything.” He waited until Ron met his eyes. “It doesn’t. That was the most—” he stopped, searching for words to describe how he felt and finally falling back on the tried and true— “brilliant thing ever, Ron.” He brought Ron’s hand up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. “Brilliant,” he murmured drowsily.

Ron moved closer and placed a soft kiss on Draco’s lips. “For me, too,” he said. He reclaimed his hand and put his arm over Draco’s shoulders. “I never knew it could be like that.”

They lay quietly, each of them pondering new possibilities and consequences, until finally Draco said, “Ron?”

“Draco?”

“I’m lying in a puddle.” He rolled away from Ron to expose a glistening patch on his chest and a very large damp spot on the bedclothes. Draco made a face.

Ron hopped off the bed and fetched his wand from the chess table where he had put it down. “Here, let me,” he said. Draco cringed a little.

“What’re you going to do?” he asked suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Ron said confidently. “I’ve done this lots of times. You know all those detentions with Snape where he had me cleaning cauldrons?” Draco nodded. “Well, I’ve been practicing different cleaning spells—Hermione taught me—and I only clean them by hand now if Snape’s actually in the room.” He waved his wand dramatically. “Scourgify!”

They both looked at the blankets, then at Draco’s chest, Ron seeming every bit as surprised as Draco that the spell had actually worked. The wet patches were gone. Ron strutted to the nightstand and put his wand down. “All right, there?”

“I never doubted you for a minute,” Draco said loyally. He patted the bed. “Come on back here.” Ron clambered back up and snuggled next to Draco. After a moment, Draco said, “Ron? It—it will be okay, won’t it? This...us?”

Ron drew back enough to be able to look at Draco without his eyes crossing. “Honestly?” he asked. Draco nodded, his eyes wide, and finally Ron smiled. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “I have a feeling no one’s going to be all that surprised, actually.”

Draco smiled sleepily, then suddenly yawned. His eyes closed and he burrowed deeper into Ron’s side, falling asleep almost instantly.

Ron stared into the fire for a while, trying to believe today was really happening. When he could no longer stay awake, he pulled a quilt over them and closed his eyes.

They slept, the two of them.

Together, as they would be for years beyond counting.
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

You've Always Been Mine