Unintended
Ron woke slowly, snuffling softly into his pillow, trying to resist the slight pressure that shook his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head, his eyes widening instinctively at the sight of Harry. He sat up immediately, reaching for his wand. "What is it?" He whispered hoarsely, glancing over Harry's shoulder, unable to see anything other than the thick material of his bed hangings. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Harry assured him, managing a weak smile. "Nightmares."
"Oh." Ron nodded then stopped. Harry never told them when he had nightmares anymore. "Oh."
"I just..." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm so tired, Ron. Can I...?"
Ron could see what the words cost his best friend and moved over without hesitation. "Course you can, Harry." Harry's body slumped with relief and he climbed onto the mattress, sitting awkwardly beside Ron. "You don't even have to ask, mate. What's mine is yours."
"Thank you."
Ron's lips contorted in thought as he considered the small bed, looking from the wrinkled sheets around him to Harry. They both laid back down, the bed barely big enough. Ron bit the inside of his lip then shook his head. "Sit up, would ya?"
Harry moved quickly toward the edge of the bed, ready to leave. Ron sighed in exasperation, laid down on his back and tugged Harry back toward him. He sank down, shaking slightly as he settled in the crook of Ron's arm, his head resting somewhere in the uncertain land between Ron's shoulder and chest. The heavy weight of Ron's arm settled over his shoulder and he gave Harry an awkward hug.
"We both fit this way," Ron said gruffly, his embarrassment written on his face. Harry pulled his head back enough to see it, and smiled his thanks. Ron shook his head. "Shut up about it. And go to sleep. You-Know-Who tries to bother you, I'll kick his ass out of my bed for ya."
"Thanks, Ron." Harry's voice was insistent. "I mean it."
Ron nodded, his eyes already closed. Harry released the breath he'd been holding the entire time, closing his own eyes and curling instinctively toward the warm, ruddy heat of Ron's body.
"Oh," Ron half-sighed, half-moaned the sound, his breath stirring Harry's hair. His body moved of its own accord, reacting, responding to the sensations that coursed through him. His muscles tightened and he froze, his arm contracting around another body. His eyes snapped open, his dream forgotten. Titling his head down, his blue eyes met Harry's vivid green ones, wider than he could imagine without the thick shield of his glasses.
"All right, Ron?"
"Yeah." His own voice was husky and he could feel a blush burn his skin. "Just a dream." He turned onto his side, Harry's head still on his arm, though he carefully angled his body away from his friend's. "Can't sleep?"
Harry shook his head, his eyes luminous.
"Oh." Ron tried to look away from Harry, unsure of where to avert his eyes as his skin heated further. The air seemed to close in on them as the green of Harry's eyes disappeared, feathers of black lashes settling on Harry's cheek in the instant before he leaned in, his parted lips surging up to meet Ron's.
Ron's chest constricted and he tensed again, his body coiled tighter than one of the corkscrew twists in Hermione's hair. Harry's mouth moved over his, his tongue playing over Ron's mouth, darting out again and again, seeking entrance.
He shivered, his breath stuttering through his nostrils as Harry's hand slipped over his hip, sliding down to rest lightly against Ron's cock as it strained against his clothes. The heel of his hand pressed lightly against the head, his fingers feathering along the base. "Ha..."
His name was lost as Harry's tongue pushed into Ron's mouth, filling the moist heat with his own. His hand began sliding over Ron's cock, stroking it slowly, curving around it applying fingertip pressure through the somewhat threadbare cotton of hand-me-down pajamas.
Harry pulled back, nipping at Ron's lips with sharp teeth, licking his parted, panting lips with his tongue. Ron shook his head slightly, groaning as Harry's hand eased beneath his pajamas, beneath his shorts and found his cock. "I...Ha..."
Shaking his head, Harry got to his knees, the motion a catalyst for Ron to fall back onto his back, his uncertain gaze fixed suddenly on the ceiling, uncertain if his relieved sigh was because he could look away from Harry's intense gaze or because Harry's hand was wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking the hard flesh.
"Wha..."
Harry shook his head, his hair grazing Ron's skin. Ron half sat up, looking down at the dark head as it bent over him, Harry's hot, wet mouth closing around his cock. Ron bit his lip, tasting blood as the firm muscles of Harry's lips began moving over him, his hand wrapped around the base of Ron's cock, following every stroke of the wet heat.
Ron's breathing shifted, dissolving into soft, gasping pants as Harry's mouth engulfed him, his lips brushing the taut skin at the base, his hand slipping down to cup Ron's balls, smoothing over them, teasing them with light pressure until Ron's whole body tightened, his heels digging into the mattress as his hips arched upward, coming hard and fast, pulsing hotly into Harry's mouth.
Closing his eyes, Ron swam through the drowning thoughts that filled his head, fighting to remember how to breath as Harry slowly pulled away from him, the hot slip of his semen sliding down his cock, trickling past the rough and silky red hairs at the base of it. Harry's tongue was hot against his perineum, thick liquid trailing down the flat skin to the puckered flesh of his sphincter. He opened his mouth to speak; unsure of his voice, of what words he could say.
Harry shook his head, the ends of his dark hair flicking at Ron's inner thighs before he pulled back, his hands strong as they moved to Ron's leg, lifting it over his head, guiding Ron onto his stomach. He whimpered, clutching the bedspread in some remote effort to cling to reality.
Harry's body was heavy on his as he leaned against Ron's back, his T- shirt caught sweatily on his skin. Harry reached above them, through the curtains to the nightstand, his hand wrapping around the ointment there, Madame Pomphrey's cure all for the constant aches and pains Ron had suffered since Draco Malfoy had slammed into him during a particularly heated Quidditch match.
The ointment was cool on his skin, stinging as Harry plied it against the cleft of his ass, deft fingers sliding past resisting flesh. He opened his mouth, swallowing the cotton of his bed sheet to keep from crying out, his body alternately tensing and relaxing, giving itself over to the ebb and flow of Harry's thrusting fingers.
Harry slid another finger inside him and Ron gasped, his whole body shaking, trembling. His skin was lit with a sheen of sweat, his flushed face deepening to crimson as he felt his cock respond beneath him.
The friction of the sheet against his cock sent a heavy shiver through him, though it was nothing of skin on skin as Harry's fingers left him, the sensation replaced with a combination of anticipation and fear as he felt the cool air that seemed to surround the ointment followed by the wet, hot tip of Harry's cock.
"Can I, Ron?"
He barely recognized the voice, so shy and innocent yet so hungry with the need to control something in his life.
Ron inhaled sharply, his body reacting instinctively to the need, the pleading in his best friend's voice, his best friend's cock as it slid against his skin. Ron's back arched and Harry bit out a low groan, thrusting forward, sliding slowly inside the warm tightness, his breathing hard and short as it fell in time with Ron's.
Fingers dug into Ron's hips, holding him as Harry pushed inside, burying himself deeper. He stopped suddenly, his whole body shuddering as Ron constricted around him.
They lay motionless for a moment, the world narrowed to skin on skin, hot gasps cooling beads of sweat. Ron shivered uncontrollably as Harry's hot tears fell on his back, branding his flesh as Harry took a long, shuddering breath and began to move.
No sound left Ron's open mouth, his chest heaving with a sudden, silent sob, matching the quiet ones that seemed to wrack Harry's body, both of them moving together and apart, the soft sound slap of flesh amplified in the heavy silence. Ron forced his fingers to relax, releasing the sheet as sensation overwhelmed him, the hard press of Harry's cock buried inside him until he ached, every pull of Harry's hips making him hunger for the accompanying push forward.
Harry moaned softly, his tongue tracing the salt of his tears between the freckles that decorated Ron's skin, kneading Ron's hips and thighs, panting harshly against the pale skin stained with arousal and embarrassment and the strange love that forms between people who would die for each other.
Perhaps literally.
Ron snaked a hand back beneath him, grasping his cock, stroking it in rhythm with Harry's ever-increasing thrusts. He gasped as his hand moved over the head, his body pushing back against Harry's. Harry whimpered softly, stilling suddenly, a pulsing rush of heat filling Ron as he whispered his best friend's name.
Harry slumped against Ron's body, shaking with a combination of exhaustion and relief. Ron shifted beneath him and carefully pulled away, sinking down onto the too-small mattress.
"All right, Harry?" Ron moved, allowing Harry to lie beside him again.
Harry smiled and nodded, his eyes already closing, sleep consuming him. "Night, Ron."
Ron nodded. "Night, Harry." He sighed, realizing his best friend was already asleep, wondering if he'd ever sleep again.