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Every Bad Sex Cliche in the Book	By : meleighme Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2968 -:- 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
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***Beta�d by Lei who seriously needs to win an award for patience. I�m slow right now, guys. Sorry.

The bed was no longer underneath Ron --in fact, the bed was no longer there at all, just a few black satin sheets and a stray pillow. Draco was sprawled a few feet away from him, amid the scattered cauldrons. Ron took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I think," Draco began before Ron could say a word. "That it is a variation of the Imperius."

Ron glanced down at his wrists; the scarves were still tied around his arms and legs. They were quite a bit looser, but still there nonetheless. He fiddled with the knots. "A variation�"

"Of the Imperius. Do you bloody well have to repeat everything in order to understand it?" Draco stood, carefully putting a desk between him and Ron, and looked around the room. "Er�you wouldn�t happen to remember where our clothes went, would you?"
Wrapping a sheet around his midsection, Ron glared at Draco. "Why should I believe that--"

"If you even think about asking me why I would fuck a Weasley of my own free will, I�ll have to admit I was wrong about the level of your stupidity. It would have to be far lower than I ever imagined for you--" It was all too much for Ron. The combination of him just sitting there and calmly talking about what had happened, as if he had the right to be disgusted by what Ron had been forced to�no, it was too much. Ron launched across the room, aiming for Draco but tripping over a cauldron. He managed to knock Draco to the ground all the same, black satin bunching up around his legs.
Righting himself quickly, he backed away and gripped the sheet even more tightly; trying to reign in his temper in favor of finding his clothes and going to Dumbledore this instant, but Draco just sneered and kept talking. "Although, the younger one�Ginny is it? She�s quite--" And Ron flung himself on top of the annoying little ponce, and punched Draco across the face. The red smear on Draco�s cheek from before had faded to a rust color and had started to flake off, but the wound along the lip reopened and began to bleed. Ron hit him again in the same spot. The punches started slowly at first, but gained more force and speed as all the memories from the day caught up with him.
"Bloody bastard, I hope you rot. You bloody, filthy rat." Ron grabbed Draco�s shoulders and began to knock him against the ground, his head making a satisfying thwack every time it hit the cold floor. "What�s the point? Why is this--what do you have to gain? What?"

Draco didn�t answer except to make a pathetic whimpering noise and Ron suddenly let go; scrambling backwards and gathering the sheet around himself once more. Draco gradually sat up and turned towards Ron. "Are you finished?"
Already, purple was blooming across Draco�s temple and the bottom half of his face was almost completely covered in blood. Ron flushed. "Yeah, I�yeah." He threw a pillow across the room and it landed in front of Draco.
Draco flinched away from it and Ron sighed. "So you can cover up with." He trailed off and looked at the floor. "I�m keeping the sheet."
Slowly standing, Draco rolled his eyes and glanced towards the curtains. He walked over to them and yanked as hard as he could, stumbling back when the entire frame of the window came crashing down. Draco and Ron stared up at the dark, stone wall where the window had once been.
"I should have known." Draco muttered. "There are no windows in the dungeons." He pulled the drab, grey curtains around his shoulders.
"Somehow, they looked more majestic on the window." Ron said.
Draco�s gaze snapped up. "What?"

"Well," Ron floundered. "I meant, they were flowing and it just seemed so�I don�t know. Nevermind."
Instead of mocking Ron, Draco did something wholly unexpected: he smiled. "Of course. Everything makes sense now."
Ron blinked. "I don�t know what kind of day you�ve been having, but in my day nothing is making sense at all."
"Oh, think about it. Just try and clear your stupid little head from all the whining insecurities about your poor little fami--"

"Hey now," Ron was in Draco�s face again; grabbing him by the shoulders and immediately releasing him when the curtain began to slip off. "Say one more word, just say one more word and I�ll--"

"You�ll what?" Draco jerked away. "Hit me? For hurting you? Are you even listening? It�s the Imperius!"

"It�s not the Imperius. I know what that--"
"What happened to our clothes?" Draco interrupted him again and Ron was quite literally two seconds away from punching the bastard. Again.
"I don�t know what happened to the clothes. We already went through this." Ron�s knuckles were turning white from clenching his fists.
"They disappeared." He was talking like Ron wasn�t even there, and that was almost making this entire situation worse. Ron pulled the sheet up his chest a little, wanting badly to pull it over his shoulders like Draco had with the curtain but not wanting to appear insecure.
Draco continued. "The thunderstorms and the window with the curtains flowing in the wind. This is all so bloody familiar if I could only remember where I�ve heard it."
Ron glanced around for his clothes, kicking cauldrons out of the way and trying to get as far from Draco as possible. "Sounds like something from one of Mum�s smut novels she thinks we don�t know about.
"That�s it!" Draco jumped and nearly tripped over the forgotten scrub brush. "That�s precisely it!"
"I still don�t know what you�re going on about."
Draco sneered. "Of course you don�t. Not like you to read up on magical history, is it?" His gaze flickered down Ron�s arms and back up again. "Are you going to take those off?"
"What?" Ron asked, startled. He looked down again and noticed the scarves. "Oh. I�d forgotten." He nudged a cauldron beside the forgotten scrub brush and saw a piece of fabric tucked underneath. He bent down and found a bit of a shirt that had been ripped to shreds. Picking it up, he realized that it was part of Draco�s clothes. Ron dropped it like he had been scalded.
Draco had not moved from beside the window frame, and was now tilting his head in a condescending manner. Ron scowled as Draco began to lecture to him like he was a first year. "Allow me to enlighten you on what is such a well-known legend passed down from generations of wizards that it is featured in every history book imaginable�including the ones required for Hogwarts� that it is simply ridiculous that I have to explain it to a pureblood--"
"Are you going to get to the point any time soon?" Ron rolled his eyes and sat down in a nearby desk.
"Fine. There�s a legend that when certain books are opened, the surrounding people get pulled into the plot."
"That�s all?"
Draco nodded. "Yes. Well, it�s not a particularly long legend, but the spell itself has spectacular results."
"Well, fine. We�re trapped in a smut novel. Brilliant." He glanced up at the ceiling and was surprised to find it looking like it was actually made of stone. There were occasional pulses of silver that made it seem as thought it were still undulating, but those were random and not nearly as dizzying as before. In fact, it was sort of mesmerizing in a way�
Ron didn�t really want to move any more; the dungeon was where he needed to be so there wasn�t any real reason to go. There was a shuffling sound off to the right of him and Ron felt himself sliding out of the desk and back onto the dungeon floor with Draco kneeling beside him.
Suddenly the scene came back vividly--the bed and the scarves still around his arms have to get them off oh god just please get off. Then Draco put his hand on Ron�s shoulder and Ron skittered away; crab-walking for a few feet before tripping over the sheet and nearly pulling it off. Draco was looking over at him; he hadn�t moved from his position other than lowering his arm.
"Were you feeling dizzy?" Draco asked and Ron tried to calm his breathing and pull up the sheet without looking desperate. "That�s why it has to be a variation. Otherwise we wouldn�t feel anything. At least, I don�t think."
"I thought," Ron was hyperventilating again. He forced himself to breathe deeply. This was no time to panic. "I thought the reason was cursed books."

Draco clenched his jaw. "Yes, well, where�s the point in trapping people in a harlequin romance? And how did we all touch the book without knowing it? Normally it is one or two that get sucked in, but not an entire school."
They both fell silent. Ron tried to untie the knots, but found it was impossible to loosen them any more than they already were. He stood up from the floor and made his way to the door, but stopped a few feet away.
Draco called out, "What are you doing?"
Ron sighed and turned back around, leaning on the door. "I�m trying to leave this bloody classroom and find Dumbledore."

"You aren�t going to�" Draco faltered. His hands were by his side and he hadn�t moved from his knees, not even to shift to a more comfortable position. His hair didn�t seem to have moved at all--like Draco had been placed in some sort of stasis. "You know I didn�t want to�"
Ron shook his head. "I don�t want to talk about it. At all. Ever." Draco nodded and suddenly their reluctance to leave and the reason for the strange behavior clicked into place.
"Oh," Ron said. "We�re in between chapters." Draco opened his mouth but Ron continued, "Our�characters don�t have any sort of, er, action right now so we�re still in this room."
Draco�s face darkened considerably; the wary look overtaken by one of complete rage. "If whoever this is thinks they can control me so easily, they are sadly mistaken." His arm jerked oddly, and he looked as if he were trying to regain balance enough to stand.
Ron stood at the door, his hand hovering above the doorknob but not moving any closer. "If we�re in a book, how do we break the spell?"
Draco did not look up from his struggle to get off of his knees. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not spend my summers memorizing dark spells and cavorting about with illegal objects. My father has a shelf of books he told me not to touch, and thought it best to explain why I should not touch them. I did not ask how to break the spell if I intentionally went against his wishes and mucked about with his personal items."

"So you have no idea." Ron concluded.
"No." Draco sighed. "Not in the least."
"I still think we�re missing something." As soon as the words left his mouth, the doorknob began to shake like someone was stuck outside of the classroom and couldn�t break in. Backing away, Ron motioned for Draco to stay quiet.
"Did you put a locking charm on the door?" Draco whispered.
Ron shook his head. "No." Muffled cursing sounded from the other side.
"Do you think," Draco began slowly. "That the person on the other side�do you think they might be part of the plot?"
Ron�s eyes widened in realization. "We can�t let whoever it is inside. I don�t think I can deal with--" He began to shake and edge further away from the door. "I mean it�s different for you. You didn�t have to actually--I don�t think I could handle that. Not again."
He glanced over at Draco, who was looking as if he had just found out that something dreadful might happened and was extremely irritated that nothing could be done to stop it.
"Yeah." Draco said, dropping his eyes to the floor. "I understand."
Before Ron could criticize him for even thinking that he could possibly understand what Ron was going through, the door blasted open and Professor Snape stepped into the room.
TBC
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Every Bad Sex Cliche in the Book