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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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They lay together, languidly stroking each other. Ron watched the image in the mirror, the hands slithering gracefully over silk and skin. He goggled as a hand slid up the blonde's dress. His hand.

"I've always wanted to see two girls together," Ron confessed at last.

"I know." Draco arched and slid closer to Ron, and laughed at Ron's confused look. "You've told me. Many times in fact."

Ron's mouth opened and shut.

"No, I haven't," he managed finally. Ron wasn't feeling very coherent. Not even close to it.

"During sex," Draco explained impatiently.

"I never make sense in bed."

"On the contrary, you make all sorts of sense. More sense in bed than at any other time," Draco answered. Ron tried to remember something - anything - he might have said, ever, and drew a complete blank.

Draco laughed at him and shook his head. "You really don't recall what you say, do you? Do you even know what you said tonight, just now?"

"Something about worshipping the ground you walk on...?" Ron guessed. It was all pretty hazy.

"That would be it." Draco smirked in satisfaction.

Ron blinked, still dazed.

"That was... wow. Draco... thanks."

Draco snapped at the loving tone in Ron's voice. "It's just sex, Weasley."

Maybe. But it occurred to Ron that it was an awful lot of trouble, to set up and even force Ron to fulfil his own fantasy. Cast a little doubt on the theory that it was self-serving, or 'just sex.' Ron realised as his hands smoothed down Draco's back, stroked and rumpled the silk of his nightgown, that it was only that he would ever have a 'partner' as brilliantly creative in bed as Draco Malfoy.

Ron smiled up at him, and he returned the warm expression with a hard, stubborn and rather defiant look. Which Ron read as panic. Oh, all right. Ron wouldn't corner him.

"Yre tre turning nasty again, Malfoy: you clearly need another drink," Ron pronounced, and let the subject drop. "But, I think I'll suggest to Lucius we put you down for 'full-time sex slave.' "

The image in the mirror showed a long-legged redhead giggling, arms over her face, as Draco pummelled him for that.

~*~*~

By way of apology, Ron gave Draco the very last strawberries, dipping them in wine. Draco looked a little sceptical, cited it as an 'abuse of fine wine,' but was quickly converted to the idea.

"What we really need is chocolate," observed Ron, swallowing a bit of strawberry that had escaped into the glass.

"Oh shut up, Ron," Draco said irritatedly. "It spoils what you have to worry about what you don't. We have strawberries. Enjoy them." He presented his wine and strawberry-covered fingers to Ron, who sucked off the sweet stuff. D lea leaned back onto the pillows, and sighed contentedly, virtually a purr.

They were stretched out in bed on top of the sheets. The sheets belonged to the Death Eater Ministry, so they really didn't care if they got pink fingerprints on them. The room was simply a bed, dresser and four walls, with no decoration and no windows, like the rest of the flat. This room looked every bit the prison it was. But the bed at least was large and comfortable, and Draco draped himself over the pillows, the shimmery blue nightgown pretty against crisp white. Ron rolled to his side and propped himself up on an elbow, looking Draco over curiously, up and down.

"So," he asked finally, "who did you sleep with, before, well - you and me?" The question had been nagging Ron for weeks, perhaps? Months even.

Draco blinked up at him sleepily.

"Seriously. You never tell me anything about anyone else. You must know half my story at least," Ron said.

Draco thought about this. "All right. I suppose it's time you knew everything. Ron, my great romance at Hogwarts was...

...Professor Snape."

"WHAT?! That greasy old, nasty -!" Ron spluttered, but stopped as Draco started to snicker and then laugh outright. "Oh. No way, bollocks, c'mon... tell me the truth."

"Damn you're easy!" Draco laughed and sneered. "You should've seen your face!"

"Draco, you bastard."

Slowly, Draco's giggles stopped and he relented. "Okay, all right," he said with a shrug. "It really depends on what you mean. I did a lot of thing

"I mean everything. You know, like - like tonight." Ron blushed. There were moments where it suddenly hit him that he was sleeping with a bloke. A damned good-looking bloke, one currently in a dress, but still.

Draco didn't notice Ron's sudden shyness. He appeared to be thinking carefully, weighing something in his mind. He licked his lips nervously. Draco said, finally, "It can't hurt to say I suppose. But I want full disclosure from you! And I mean everything." Draco raised his eyebrows to emphasize that point.

Ron hesitated a long moment. His eyes scanned the ceiling as he thought about it. Then he said, "Okay. Like you say, it can't hurt."

"Well. Based on that pause, this is going be worth it," Draco smirked. Ron reddened. Draco took a breath, and admitted:

"No one - " but he quickly added, " - don't think that means you were the first! We both know what pair has that honour," he said defensively.

"Oh God, Draco." Then his first time was...

"I didn't want your pity," Draco spat and scowled. "It's nothing you didn't know alr, an, and I fully intend to kill them both if at all possible, and Lucius for putting me in that dungeon in the first place." Draco turned to Ron, "Now, 'fess up. Who'd you do, Weasley? You're far too much fun in bed not to have been around."

Ron was well aware Draco was changing the subject. But who could blame him really?

Draco’s smirk was salacious. "Granger?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Is she as plush as she looks in a sweater? I mean, she's the sort that'll really pork up once she's married, but for now -"

"No, no, we dated in fifth year but we didn't get anywhere. We're just friends. There was Lavender though."

"Everybody had Lavender."

"Shut up! I found that out later!"

Then Ron listed names, most of which Draco didn't know, so he provided detailed descriptions, while Draco’s eyebrows rose into his hair.

Draco laughed. "Why is it you don't know you've got a great body? What did you think they're after? Your money?"

Ron shrugged. He'd never known why really. He'd considered it best not to ask too many questions, in case the girls started asking them, too. His feeling had always been: she said yes? Really? Great!

"Never mind. I prefer you humble. You haven't got a body to speak of and you look like a tree stump. Keep that in mind as I do you the great favour of fucking your brains out." He picked up the glass of wine. "But I think you've left off some names there, Weasley." Draco gave him a very sharp look. "You know what I want to hear."

"No!" Ron denied quickly. "No, I haven't!"

Draco rounded on him. "I said full disclosure. Those were girls. All of them. But you know your way around a bloke's body too damned well for me to have been the first."

Ron's face heated. Draco waited.

"There's just the one..."

"Obviously someone I know or you wouldn't mind saying," Draco said pointedly, tapping the edge of the wineglass.

Ron was nervously silent.

"One of your brothers perhaps? Your Percy's always looked a little on the -" Draco smiled slyly.

"No! No! It's just that, well, I promised."

Draco glared at Ron. "I just told you I was a virgin. At nineteen. You owe me."

"It was just the once... " Ron cringed.

Draco gave him a doubtful look, and waited. Sipped his wine.

Ron took a deep breath.

"Harry.” Draco sprayed wine all over himself. "Potter!? You're joking! You're not! Potter's queer?! That's bloody marvellous! Potter-the-pouf!" Draco laughed hysterically.

"He's-not-he's-not-he's-not! I knew you'd take it this way!" Ron shouted. Draco kept laughing. "It was just one of those things!" Ron flung at him. Then Ron moaned, put his head in his hands. "Oh Merlin, we'd better not live or Harry's gonna kill me..."

"Were you his first time? You were, weren't you! Oh - that's rich! What was it like? Who was on top? Pleeeeeeeease tell me it was you... details, Ron, I want details!" Draco urged him.

"It wasn't me, and I'm not telling you any more

"I'll get it out of you eventually, you know. Little Ronniekins wants his dick sucked? That'll cost you."

"It was just one of those things!"

"You're still clinging to that 'I'm straight as an arrow' thing, aren't you?" Draco said, amused.

"I am straight!"

"You keep telling yourself that. At least one of us will believe you."

"It's just circumstances! Harry - we were drunk, things got out of hand. Here, I mean - well, look around you."

"This story keeps getting better and better."

"We're friends, Draco. That's all." Ron was emphatic.

"Very close friends. So caring. So... warm."

Ron yanked the pillow out from under Draco, and threw it at him. "You're lucky I won't hit a girl." He stormed off the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to take a piss."

"Ugh. Can't you act like a civilised person, and not be so specific?" Draco sniped.

"What's wrong with pissing?"

"You have no class. You don't tell people what you're going to do in the loo - spare them the details. You leave it to their imagination. They can figure it out," Draco explained irritably with an arrogant wave of his hand. "Preferably you don't even tell them where you're going; you just excuse yourself and leave."

"You asked."

"My mistake. And while we're at it, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop apologising when you fart, too. Bad enough I have to hear it, bad enough I have to smell it, you have to go out of your way to remind me of the 'blessed event' moments later. Just to impress it on my memory for all time I'm sure," Draco complained.

Ron stood in their bedroom doorway with folded arms.

"I have to take a piss. Be right back. I'll be sure to tell you if I fart in there. Since I don't need to take a shit at the moment that's probably unlikely, but, well, you never know!" Ron grinned, unapologetically. "I have this great image of you sitting on the pot with your pinky extended."

"Fuck. Just go."

"I have to stop by sometime when you take a shit, just to see if you do it the same way normal people do."

Draco looked at Ron, exasperated. "I've also been meaning to talk to you about coming in to piss while I'm in the shower -"

"When you gotta go, you gotta go."

"I don't want to have to listen to you when I'm washing up. Bad enough we're in this sardine can. It's worse than Hogwarts!"

"Tinkle, tinkle. You know that dick you hear pissing? That happens to be the same dick you suck on a regular basis." Ron waggled his eyebrows at Draco, who looked a little green. "Now I've gotta piss. Bad. A lot, probably. It likely will be really yellow since I've been drinking tonight. But I'll be right back, so you can suck that dick some more." Ron grinned and swung through the doorway.

"You're unpleasant. How can someone like you be pureblood? Your whole family's vermin - Ow!"

The small object bounced off Draco's forehead - Ron's aim had improved over the months. Furious, Draco pounced on it to throw it back at Ron, but opened his hand with a surprised sound.

"What's this? Oh, wow, I'll be damned."

~*~*~

When Ron emerged from the bathroom he found a trail of heady smoke drifting from the bedroom. It smelled a little like burning wet leaves, sort of, or like sage. Ron had smelled something like that from Fred and George's bedroom once or twice, which Ron had assumed was one of their experiments. A failed one.

He peered cautiously around the corner, steeling himself to face a cheesed-off Malfoy. But Draco was sprawled on the bed, his legs and skirt splayed out. He looked like a little blonde doll that had been carelessly dropped. His head was propped on the pillow as he lolled back against it. He smiled a slow, sideways smirk at Ron and coughed a little.

"I'd throw this back at you," Draco said in a tight, slightly choked voice, "but I found a better use for it." Draco pulled something out of his mouth and exhaled a long stream of smoke. "Not to worry. I'll have my revenge when you least expect it. Why didn't you tell me there was a pipe on the table?"

"That thing I threw at you? It wasn't on the table. It was on the floor," Ron said. "What is it?"

Draco snickered. "You, Ronnie-boy, are about to find out." He crooked a finger at Ron. "I figured out how to work that top part of the stove, by-the-way. Needed something to light this." He handed the pipe to Ron with a nod.

Ron snorted, "I'll bet if we found some Muggle drugs you had to bake, you'd learn to cook pretty quick." He held this 'pipe' doubtfully.

"There's always the biscuits. The candle is easier. Couldn't work the lighter-whatevers, though. I think they're all broken." Draco waved his hand lazily. "Well. Stop staring at it and smoke up."

Ron tried it, and burst into a fit of coughing. His eyes watered as the smoke hit the back of his throat. All that he thought about, as the slight wave of euphoric dizziness hit, was where on earth did Fred and George get Muggle drugs? Draco laughed raucously, he leaned on Ron heavily and his eyes danced.

"Come on there. You can do better than that. Take another hit."
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Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock