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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
- 7
- 8
Ron woke first the next morning. He scratched his head and tasted the detritus of the previous night in his mouth. A low, slow hangover burned behind his eyes, though it was nothing unmanageable, or even unfamiliar. He raised up on an elbow and studied the delicate boy sprawled beside him.

Draco had half-kicked the blankets off; one arm was flung over the pillow. Warmed by a smile, Ron pulled the blankets back over him. Draco stirred restlessly, but sighed back to sleep.

Draco's wrists were so thin, and Ron had never seen his hair quite that much of a mess. It was stuck to his face. There were two exhausted smudges under his eyes. Or maybe that was eye makeup; it was hard to tell. But he glowed somehow, and Ron's heart did a little flip; his was was almost translucent, like something out of a fairy tale.

Though Ron knew Draco was tougher than he looked, at the moment, he seemed impossibly fragile.

Not everything could be fought off with a sharp tongue. As they both knew. Ron fa faa familiar surge of white-hot anger. Draco was both more and less than a friend; frankly, he still drove Ron up the wall. But if anyone touched Draco again, Ron would kill them. With his bare hands if he had to.

He entertained for a moment the glorious starry-eyed dream of taking out personally those who had hurt Draco... facing them on the other side of a wand, and just what he would say before he... but Ron shoved that fantasy aside, reluctant, yet realistic. Not that he hadn't dreamed of it a hundred times really. But those kinds of heroics were for Harry. Ron could do it, sure. Probably. But, heh, the chances were he'd lose.

Besides, why resort to chancy heroics when you could win with overwhelming force?

Ron mentally added an item to his to-do list: to find the locations of certain persons and make sure they were seriously in the way of any attack. Even if he couldn't manage it, planning made Ron feel just a little less helpless.

He dragged himself out of bed, highly aware that he hadn't had a shower; he was careful not to wake Draco. Draco made a rather cute sound as he turned over. From the doorway Ron watched Draco stretch delicately, and just swore to himself... the little bastard.

Ron crossed into the living room. Wow, what a disaster.

There were bottles and glasses everywhere, dishes on the floor, scattered clothing - both lingerie and normal Ministry clothes. Strawberry tops were sprinkled about and ground into the carpet here and there. Booze made a slick pattern on one of the tables. Draco's pills were all out of order. Oh, he wasn't going to be happy about that. There was a pair of trousers, Draco's, crumpled and flung into the corner. Ron rescued his tie from where it was knotted to a leg of the couch and tried flatten it out. He didn't remember that part. Did things get a little kinky? Uh, kinkier -?

It looked as if they'd had twenty people over for a party, not just the two of them.

Ron thought, if Draco's ever going learn how to clean, now's the time.

Percy was still asleep on the sofa, cuddled under a blanket Ron couldn't remember getting for him. Oh well, maybe he fetched it himself. Ron checked the time, and let him sleep a little longer.

After a shower, Ron started making breakfast for everyone. He heard Percy stir in the living room and ignored it. Then he heard another sound behind him. He knew who it was instantly, and for some reason his face burned, and he didn't turn around right away. He was unaccountably shy. And he wasn't at all a shy person. Ron finally bit his lip and looked. He'd have to face Draco sometime he supposed.

Draco leaned in the doorway. He had a very intense look on his face, sort of like the look he had when he was angry, but more passionate.

Ron should have expected the kiss, deep and compelling, Draco's hands holding both sides of his face. But it sort of blew him away. It was nothing like Draco's usual delighted but self-indulgent kisses. Ron spluttered and stared at Draco, dazed. He was glad - no, make that infinitely grateful - but Draco was a little overwhelming at full power.

Ron whimpered into the next kiss. He wanted Draco again for, what, the sixth time in how long? It was crazy. And he had to go to work. Shit. Draco kissed Ron again, slower, more sensually.

A voice cleared its throat behind them. The sound came from the kitchen doorway.

Percy.

Right.

Damn.

Ron was suddenly aware of Draco's hand, which now rested on Ron's bare hip, and the fact they were both stark naked except for the towel around Ron's neck. Normal enough for their place, but it was an easy bet Percy wasn't used to it. Oh, this must be a sight. Sorry, Percy.

Percy looked a little worse for wear. His eyes were bloodshot, his shoulders sagged, and Ron's head throbbed just looking at the way Percy held his forehead. "If you're quite through," he said diffidently, "breakfast is burning behind you. I don't think I'm - I'm all that hungry, but the smell alone is going to kill me. I'm late, and Lucius is going to have my hide. And please get rid of all this shit. I don't care where it goes, just... get rid of it."

"I'm first in the shower," Draco said brightly as if completely unaffected by any kind of hangover. It was probably an act, but a good one. He patted Percy on the cheek on the way and grinned. "Don't worry Percy. Just tell Lucius you were 'entertaining' me. He'll understand. And do try to look tired -" Draco winked. "- it's more complimentary."

Draco disappeared with a skip before Percy could close his mouth.

"Is he always like that?" Percy squinted after him.

Ron shrugged. "You get used to him; I think I've reached unshockable by now. You go kind of numb. He was making incest jokes last night." Ron pulled the bacon pan off the stove. The sound of the shower started in the next room.

Percy sagged miserably against the wall. "Ron, last night... ugh." Percy put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes. He looked weird without his glasses. "For next time, could you not do that directly in front of me?" he groaned.

Ron blinked. He suddenly realised what Percy meant. Oh.

"I really don't care, but there are certain things about family that you want left to the inactive imagination. And their sex lives is one of them."

Ron bit his lip. He knew what else Percy must have witnessed.

"How much did you hear?" Ron asked. Amazing how calm he was really.

"Not a thing," Percy said brusquely. Then he stared fixedly at the floor a long moment. His eyes, so naked without the glasses, were intense, dark with concern when he finally looked up.

"Be careful, Ron."

Finis.

Keep your eye peeled for the sequels, 'SNAFU: Situation Normal, All Fucked Up,' 'Stand In The Ruins' and 'Scarred.' ~Icarus
- 7
- 8
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