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Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock	By : Icarus Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2855 -:- 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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Their first bottle of wine had run out, and they were turning into prunes in the bath - strawberry flavoured prunes, but prunes nonetheless. So they towelled each other off and moved the remaining strawberries to the living room. There was quite a collection of glasses gathering on the squat end tables.

Ron lay flat on the sofa, naked and steaming, feeling decadent as he stroked his legs together. He couldn't keep his hands off his thighs; his mind did a little mental flip every time he touched them. He wished Draco would stop smiling at him like that, as if Draco had invented sex and just introduced him to it. Draco climbed across Ron's lap, nearly spilling his wine. He pulled the blue silk back over his head, slipping into it easily.

"You're putting that back on?" Ron lifted his head off the sofa. He rescued the wineglass from Draco, and not incidentally its very important contents, and then took a long sip.

"I can wear what I want."

Ron shrugged. He dangled the stem of the glass between his fingers, or tried to; too drunk. He settled for resting the glass on his chest instead. He mused aloud: "You ever wonder what it would like, you know, to have tits? I mean, just for a day."

"No, Ron. I haven't. I've never wanted to fill these things out properly, or be able to squeeze my tits while I wank. Never crossed my mind."

Yeah, alright, stupid question.

"You'd have a nice set," Draco observed. "Nice, big, luscious tits to go with your great legs."

"You think so?"

"Looking at your sister - hell yeah."

"Hey!" Ron turned a scowl on him.

"She's stacked, Ron," Draco said coolly. "There's nothing you can do about it."

Ron had to admit that, unfortunately, Draco was right.

Draco had fixed his makeup in the bathroom, and now presented the lipstick for Ron to do again. Easy enough. Ron wasn't as careful this time, knowing it would probably get messed up again.

"Let me do yours," Draco asked suddenly.

"You're no good with lipstick," Ron said.

"You do the lipstick then."

That didn't even deserve a response. Ron shut his eyes. Sharing a glass, and the tub, had slowedn thn their drinking for the last couple hours, but wine always made him sleepy.

Ron felt something cool tickle along his chest... along his arm... his stomach. Ron reached up and grabbed whatever it was. It warmed slightly in his hand. Ron opened his eyes. Draco straddled his legs, pale white and blue above him, shimmery silk puddling across Ron's lap. In Ron's hand was the short 'teal' nightie. Ron got the point immediately.

"No, Draco." Though Ron wasn't sure Draco knew the meaning of that word 'no.' Perhaps if he got him a dictionary....

"Come off it, Ron." Unbelievable. As though Ron were being unreasonable!

"No."

"It would be really hot."

Ron glared at Draco. Hot for who?

"I have something in mind."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What, exactly? Blackmail photos?"

"You'll see."

"No, I won't, because I'm not getting dressed up like a girl."

"If it were blackmail photos, I'd be in trouble, too."

So it was sex. Somehow. Now Ron was a bit curious. What was Draco up to?

"I trusted you with the strawberries," Draomplomplained.

"That's different."

What was the plan this time? Ron finally leaned over the edge of the couch and peered underneath.

"What're you doing?"

"Checking whipwhips and chains," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

"Ooo. Now there's a thought..."

No chains, or anything else besides dust bunnies. Ron rolled his eyes and pushed himself back up. He dropped back onto the cushions. "Blimey. If you aren't the kinkiest -"

"Like it, Weasley?an san see you tied up. Oh. Now you're blushing, that's so sweet." Draco grinned naughtily. He added in a more serious voice, "Just kidding. No chains. And if you don't like it, you can stop."

Draco added. 'll'll wipe right off."

Ron was stone silent.

"It doesn't change anything. Nothing falls off," Draco said sarcastically. "It's just paint."

Didn't change anything? The fact that he'd put it on in the first place was a big change!

"No one's here. No one will ever know," Draco urged him.

"You'll know."

"And look what you have on me!"

"Yes, but you don't care!" This was ridiculous.

"Are you kidding? Do you seriously think that Lucius knows t tht this shit? You think my mother knows? Think I'd waltz around like this in the Slytherin common room?"

Ron didn't answer. The bloke was bloody persistent.

"C'mon! Just to see." Draco pouted. "I thought you'd do anything for me."

"What? Since when?"

"I hear it often enough," Draco said. "I seem to recall, yes, just last night you were fucking me and you said, I quote, 'I would do anything for you.' Time to put your money where your mouth is, Ron."

"Draco..." Draco was a bloke. He knew what that blather was all about.

Draco sighed. "Just do this for me? No one will ever know. It's really -" Draco breathed, and let his head fall back onto the sofa, "it's hot, you know? Just this once. You understood a little, I mean, when I did your legs...." Draco let his hand slide across Ron's thighs.

"I was charged up on sex!" Ron's mind quailed at the implications.

"Yes! Exactly! It's just sex! Hot sex. C'mon," Draco said. "I'll only put on a little bit. You'll hardly notice." Draco pointed out. "Vampire Hex wears it."

"That's stage makeup!"

"Exactly. See? Play-acting. It's no big deal, Ron. Just for kicks?" Draco sai"I'"I've done good tonight, haven't I? With all the treats? Trust me."

Ron wavered.

"If you hate it, we can take it off."

Ron growled and rubbed his face. "Augh..."

"For me?"

No. Ron shook his head. No way. "Dammit, no!"

"Ron -"

"You can dress up like a girl all you want, but - just... no!"

Draco frowne"And"And here I thought you meant it all. But I'm just some sex toy to you, aren't I?"

"What? I -" Ron cringed.

"What is it, Weasley? Having fun are you? Get off work and then come home to get off?" Draco's eyes flashed.

Yes, actually. But Ron thought he understood, that it was mutual. Draco was a guy; he knew how it was.

"No..." Ron swallowed, cornered.

"You get anything you want in bed," Draco snarled. "But if there's anything I want - oh no. Can't do that. It might make Draco happy." Draco slid off and stormed into the bedroom.

Oh hell. Ron levered himself off the couch and followed him.

Draco stood with a shoulder leaned against the door, his back to Ron. His arms were folded, tightly. Ron cringed and stood there a moment unsure what to do; he ran a hand over his face. Dammit. Ron tentatively put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Look -"

Draco shrugged it away.

"Draco."

"Forget it. It's fine," Draco snapped. His cheeks were tinged pink with humiliation. "I know what you think."

"It's not that."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just hop up on the bed and spread my cheeks for you. No problem, Weasley. I get it."

Ron cringed some more, his head in his hands. "In'tn't what you think."

Draco glared over his shoulder at Ron. "I know exactly where you got that impression."

The Arena. Dammit. This was going to become a major issue, Ron could smell it. Weeks and weeks of it.

"Draco." Ron threw up his hands in helpless exasperation. "If it means that much to you," he sighed and gave in, "okay."

"No, forget it, Ron. I don't want to force you. It doesn't matter."

Yeah, right.

"Draco. It's - oh hell. Just... don't tell Harry. Ever."

Draco looked at him.

"You mean it?"

"Yes." Oh God. How did he get into these things? "I'll put it on for you. But it's coming right back off."

Draco's eyes lit up like they had with the strawberries, and he nodded emphatically. Ron couldn't help but smile.

Ron decided he wasn't nearly drunk enough. He got up and found that bottle of really strong stuff he'd noticed earlier, and filled one of the dirty glasses. With any luck this would be enough to put him over into unconsciousness, though Ron seemed to have been blessed with a high capacity for alcohol. Or cursed, as the case may be.

Draco rummaged cheerily in the makeup box. He shot Ron a heated smile. Then he pulled Ron close, removed the glass from his hand, and tugged the silk over Ron's head. Ron winced as the cool fabric slithered down his chest. He refused to have it feel nice. Then Draco urged him to the couch, and climbed on top of him. Well. That was familiar enough.

Draco bit his lower lip in concentration, eyes alight as he sat on Ron's chest. The makeup brushes really tickled. Ron flinched away.

"Stop blinking," Draco muttered.

"I can't help it! It's too close to my eyes," Ron said irritably.

"Then close them. Just relax."

Relax?

Ron sighed. But Draco was done pretty quickly. "All right then. I only put on a little. Now I want you to do the lipstick."

"No." No fucking way is what Ron meant.

Draco nodded, unsurprised. " 'kay."

He popped the cap off a lipstick. Ron looked up a little with a sudden worrying thought, remembering what Draco had said earlier about colours.

"That's not orange is it?" he asked nervously.

"It's green," Draco answered smoothly.

"What?!" Ron squawked and sat The The lipstick scraped a wet line across his cheek.

"Hey! You made me mess up! I'm just kidding." Draco wiped his face. "Of course it's not green, you moron. It's sort of a bronze." Draco rolled his eyes. "You can look if you like," and he pressed Ron back to the sofa, "when I'm done." He held out the little mirror to Ron.

"No thanks, I'll pass. This is your fetish, not mine," Ron said, emphatic.

"While food is yours?" Draco said suggestively, tongue in cheek.

A slow smile spread across Ron's face, as he realised Draco was right. And Draco owed him, big-time after this. There was no end to the possibilities actually. Especially since Ron was going to teach him how to cook... cake batter came to mind... lots of it.

"Stop smiling," Draco snickered gleefully, "or I won't be able to fix your lipstick."

Ron winced at the phrase 'your lipstick' and thought, If Draco ever tells Harry, I'll kill him. His face burned and he sincerely hoped that Draco didn't have a twin to Colin Creevey's camera buried in that pile of Muggle stuff.

Draco finished. Then he gave Ron a very slow, lascivious smile.

"Let me be on top."

Okay. Ron shrugged. It was Draco's fantasy. Draco disappeared into the bedroom.

Ron took another stiff drink - and stared at the lipstick he left on the glass. He'd somehow forgotten about that already. It was sort of shiny and clear, a little brownish. Draco returned with the oil.

"Prepare yourself for me..." Draco purred.

They'd done this many times, although Draco usually liked to 'do the honours' as he put it. Ron's oiled thumb slid in and out with wet sounds, then he used a forefinger. Draco busied himself with something... what...?

Blearily, Ron could see Draco dragging over a large mirror that had been hidden behind the clothes rack, stumbling a little. The nightgown looked a little odd with him standing straddled like that, muscles tensed, as he lowered the bulky glass to the floor with a thump. Then he arranged it to lie long-wise facing Ron. Draco adjusted it until Ron's image swam into view.

Omigod.

Two very long, smooth legs were spread with graceful abandon on the couch, and a hand slid between them, moving slowly. You couldn't see much, but a good bit of cheek was revealed in this angle, all round and pert. You wanted to pinch it. Teal-green silk spilled over creamy pale skin, upper arms delicately freckled.

Ron's breath caught as he stroked the oil in and out of his hole, and that hand between her legs moved.

"Omigod. That... I - I look like a girl... doing herself," he moaned. "Oh - oh - that's gotta be the hottest thing I've ever seen...." Another girl, pale and blonde lowered herself over Ron, slipping between those long legs. She was very slim and taut, wearing a long skirt that hid most of her legs.

"Oh," Ron pantedwe lwe look like two girls together - kiss me, kiss me!" Ron seized the blonde in the mirror. The two girls tangled together ecstatically. "Oh, fuck, look at that. I've always wanted, I've always - Draco, pull up your dress -!"

Ron groaned as Draco obliged, and suddenly there was a lot of skin and silk as the beautiful blonde mauled and pounced on him aggressively. Gorgeous, if not all that feminine, she licked his hole and Ron squirmed, hand stroking fast between his legs.

"You've got the hottest arse. Fuck! I've always -" Ron arched up into Draco. "ohfuckohfuckohfuck... I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come...."

"Not yet!" Draco ordered.

"I'm gonna, I can't -" Ron panted.

"No!" Draco said, "get your hand off your dick." He batted Ron's hand away and pinned the moaning Ron to the couch.

In the mirror, the redhead looked startled but kept thrashing underneath the little blonde. Oh god... that was hot.

"Potion ingredients... Longbottom's arse! Chudley Canons - what were their last scores?" Draco's voice was distant and irrelevant.

"Oh, I don't care," Ron groaned, watching the blonde struggle with the debauched redhead on the couch.

Draco grabbed his chin, firmly. Ron was faced with two grey eyes, framed in dark mascara and pale violet eye shadow. "Don't. Look."

Ron whimpered, "I want... Draco, you look like a girl."

"Let me get inside you," Draco whispered breathlessly, nipping at Ron's nose. Ron arched a little but had regained part of his mind. "I want to fuck you, Ron."

Ron moaned, and turned to look at the mirror again, but Draco's hand on his chin held him firmly. "Not yet! Slow down... breathe...breathe...."

Hard and smooth, Ron felt him prodding against his arse. Hard, smooth legs pressed against his thighs, and that searing heat penetrated Ron. Oh. Ron panted in quick breaths, tried to recover. Whimpered. Gasped. Hard and smooth, Draco's fingers slid over his face, his shoulders, his chest and the cool silk slipping between them as Draco moved, slowly, stroked in, again... and again... until he was inside. Ohhh. Ron's mouth fell open, trying to breathe.

"Yeah... nice," Draco purred, almost growled, his face relaxed and ecstatic. "Like that, do you? Yessss... now look." His smile was pure self-indulgence. He turned Ron's face to the mirror once again.

It looked like a girl, getting slowly fucked by another girl. It was mind-boggling. Impossible.

"Oh... omigod. Fuck me, Draco!" Ron moaned. He'd never wanted Draco so much in his life.

The blonde in the mirror met Ron's eyes and grinned gleefully at him.

Ron leaned up to kiss him, glancing over at the redhead with rather full lips, smeared lipstick, and long, fucking perfect legs in the air. The slinky blonde moved with decidedly unfeminine ferocity. Draco's hard cock came into view, sliding out a little, and silk spilled around their pale thighs.

Ron moaned, overwhelmed with contradictions. It was definitely Draco's directness and feline grace, walking that hard line between male and female. He was beautiful, looked like some kind of androgynous god plundering a human girl.

Strangely, the redhead with the soft face and gorgeous firm legs was decidedly more feminine. No one would ever have expected that. Ron couldn't comprehend it - he was getting a kind of mental whiplash - that this was himself in the mirror, with those innocent bright blue eyes wide with shock.

"I'm bloody gorgeous," Ron said.

"Cute, yes of course," Draco panted, his lips slightly parted and eyes half-lidded with concentration. "I'd have nothing to do with you if you weren't good looking. Didn't you know that?" He thrust in, harder, as deep as he could. Ron's breath was driven out of him.

Ron covered his confusion with a joke. "You say that to all the girls," he grunted.

Draco laughed, smiled his real smile down at Ron, the one that crinkled up his nose. "Stop it... I'm trying to concentrate here."

Ron grinned up at him.

Ron couldn't process any of this, either Draco's words or what he saw in the mirror, so he looked up at the familiar sight of Draco fucking him - when had that become familiar? - his slim chest moving, his painted lower lip held between his teeth. Ron laughed with shock at his life. Unbelievable. Draco wasn't quite hitting the right spot though.

"A little to the left -" Ron said, then snorted, "no, stupid, your other left... a little... oh yeah."

Ron shut his eyes as the shock waves went singing through him, jangling his knees as he tried not to think of perfect long legs. There was a soft, fleshy slapping sound of balls against his arse as the heat intensified and Draco sped up. Ron let his head fall back to the couch. Oh, I'm all yours. Do me, baby, he thought, and probably said it aloud, though he wasn't sure. He was never sure what he said in bed. Sometimes Draco would tell him later, tease him mercilessly until Ron thought he’d never stop blushing again.

Draco's rhythm fumbled as he moaned, the heat of him impossible and he thrust, hard, his face strained as he arched into Ron and came with a yell.

A few more slow strokes, wet and hot, smooth, as Ron breathed under Draco's weight.

"Oh God..." Ron groaned. The little blonde in the mirror still moved gracefully, as the redhead looked hazily back at Ron, her legs swayed. Wow. He shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Draco inside him.

Draco smiled lazily, as he continued, slowly, his breath heavy in Ron's ear.

"Go down on me," Ron pleaded.

"For a gorgeous peach like you? Anything," Draco answered, his voice smoky with sex.
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Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock