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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.

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I Saw Ronnie Touching Draco’s Drawers
Hogsmeade Stadium
3 Jul 1993

Draco and Ron stood in the box with the other young Potter Alliance wizards watching with open mouths. Lights flashed and the beat of the music pounded as smoke billowed up from the pyrotechnics display. It was hypnotizing. Draco looked at Ron and smiled; he was thrilled, stunned even. It was so good to be out of the house and away from the parents. This Weird Sisters concert was the perfect thing, and it had been opened by the Hobgoblins reunion set! All this and he, Draco Malfoy, was here to see it with the wizard he—errrh—really liked. He would have to thank Daphne.

At first there was some grumbling from a few of the wizards who cast envious glances at the Potter box, where Harry and several of the girls of his “harem” were dancing. The boxes afforded the perfect opportunity to move around and mingle, or even dance if one was so inclined—except for the fact that most of the girls to dance with were now Harry’s courtesans or what-have-you and were thus over in Harry’s box, not the wizards’.

But before long they got caught up in the music and forgot to complain. A few wizards unbent so far as to sway, if a little self-consciously, to the beat, and finally Lee Johnson and Fred and George Weasley gave up and started an all-out energetic group dance in their corner of the box. It wasn’t long before several others followed their lead and soon a rollicking good time was being had by most of the wizards in the box, girls or no girls.

Ron and Draco wended their way over to a front corner of the box, dodging the whirling robes and miscellaneous flying body parts of the dancers, and stood quietly together watching the concert. The lure of the music had proven irresistible to more than just the occupants of the exclusive boxes; the ground level of the stadium, where the majority of the audience was massed, looked like it was in constant motion from all the bodies moving, dancing, and jumping to the accompaniment of the Weird Sisters’ excellent performance.

Ron glanced around surreptitiously: no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them. Under cover of the folds of his robes he reached for Draco’s hand and clasped it warmly. Draco looked down at their joined hands and his eyes made a quick circuit of the room, as Ron’s had. Seeing that they were isolated for the moment by virtue of everyone’s distraction by the concert, he looked at Ron and grinned.

“Isn’t it great?” Ron had to shout to make himself heard over the din.

“Bloody fantastic!” was Draco’s appraisal.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ron added. “It makes tonight perfect.”

Draco quirked a questioning brow at him as Ron had spoken too softly for him to hear, but then his subconscious mind—which obviously had heretofore unsuspected lip-reading capabilities—realized what Ron had said and a smile spread across his face. He turned away from the dancers in the box to face Ron. All distractions fell away unnoticed and Draco, suddenly unable to look away from Ron’s lips—those pale, freckled bows that held the secret to the perfect kiss—began to lean toward Ron.

Ron, realizing Draco’s intention, glanced about them uneasily and hissed, “Draco!”

Draco broke out of his rose-tinted haze and stopped his advance, still far enough away that even if anyone had noticed their proximity it wasn’t likely to be remarked upon. “What?” he asked, his eyes still glued to Ron’s lips.

Ron snorted and Draco finally met his eyes. “Not here,” Ron said warningly, and Draco suddenly remembered that they were surrounded by heterosexual wizards who were bemoaning the lack of female company and probably would not be inclined to tolerate what he had been about to do to Ron; and who were, moreover, in extremely high spirits just then and likely to display that lack of tolerance in a physical way.

“All right, you’re right,” he said reluctantly. “But Ron, I really—I want to—I want—” He broke off, intensely frustrated and at a loss for words. He sighed gustily.

“Me too,” Ron said with feeling—and even as softly as he spoke, Draco heard him. His head snapped up and he shivered when his wide gray eyes met blazing blue ones. His mouth fell open a little and his body swayed helplessly toward the blatant desire in Ron’s eyes. He sidled closer and put his arm around Ron’s waist. They stood like that for a moment, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies. The music blared on, but it could have been Chinese nuns singing an off-key rendition of “I Like To Go Swimmin’ With Bowlegged Women” for all it intruded on their private world of hot eyes and hotter hands.

Ron’s hand pressed against the front of Draco’s robes and moved stealthily downward. Draco stiffened slightly and his eyes widened even further as he realized what Ron was doing. Ron’s lips curved in a lazy smile as his hand kept moving—past the buttoned shirt, past the belt.... The smile froze on his face when he felt clear evidence that the stiffness extended beyond the rigidity of Draco’s shoulders as he stood there, his skin tingling all along the path of Ron’s hand, waiting in breathless anticipation for what would happen next.

“Oi, you two, not dancing?” Fred shouted as he bounced over and shoved Ron in brotherly fashion, dancing and shaking his head like a maniac. “Come on! Isn’t the music great?” He leaped over to join Lee’s frenzied air-guitar passage in accompaniment to the Weird Sisters’ lead guitar solo.

George, who had danced over with Fred, stayed behind and looked at Ron interestedly. “So—what’s going on, little brother, eh?” he asked with a knowing grin. He looked down at Ron’s hand where it had stopped at an incriminating point against the front of Draco’s robe, and Ron and Draco’s eyes followed his gaze. Ron snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned, and Draco reluctantly slid his arm off Ron’s waist.

“Hmmm,” George said. He leaned in closer and said into Ron’s ear, “You’d best watch where you are when you do that sort of thing, yeah?” He straightened up and laughed. “I mean, I’m all for a good wanking now and then, but—” he laid one finger alongside his nose in an annoyingly superior way— “timing is everything, Ronniekins. Besides,” he added, looking around at the wildly dancing wizards, “you never know what some of these chaps would think about what you two are doing.” When Ron opened his mouth to protest, George amended, “Fine, fine—thinking of doing. If anyone’s going to beat up my little brother, it’s going to be me. Heaven knows I’ve earned the right, putting up with you for all these years.” He pointed an admonitory finger at them. “Behave yourselves.” He boogied over to join Fred and Lee and, after one warning backward glance, proceeded to ignore Ron and Draco.

Just then the music came to an abrupt halt and there was a gigantic whooshing thump of fireworks amid the echoing final notes. As the announcer thanked the audience and bade them good night, Ron and Draco looked at each other. Ron was shaking with fury, and Draco—well, Draco was just shaking; whether from reaction to nearly being caught in an act he would prefer to keep private or for some other reason, even he wasn’t sure.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut and Draco eyed him anxiously. “What is it?” he asked under cover of a flurry of people gathering up their belongings and beginning to exit the box. The two boys trailed along at the back of the group, reluctant to end the special evening.

“That damned Fred!” Ron ground out. “I can’t believe he—and then George! Who the bloody hell does he think he is?” Draco made sympathetic noises. “I’ll tell you one thing, Draco—we are going to find some time alone, or I’m not a Weasley! I can’t stand much more of this.”

Draco looked at him consideringly for a moment. “You know,” he said slowly, “we need to give this some thought. There must be some way....” Ron looked at him sharply. “Well—it may take a bit of doing,” Draco warned. “But it never hurts to start bouncing ideas around.” He deliberately rested a hand on Ron’s ass and gave it a little encouraging squeeze.

Ron grinned through his frustration. “That would be brilliant. I tell you, this much pressure can’t be good for a chap.”

“Tell me about it,” Draco murmured. They exited into the main corridor at a trot and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group.
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You've Always Been Mine