Summary: Harry figures out why he has to protect Ron.
Warnings: Mention of past character death, a bit of angst.
Prompt: — POST-WAR: 01. Harry is very protective of the few things he has left. Ron is one of those things.
A/N: Thanks to magicofisis for the beta—she made the story so much better! Thanks to madam_minnie and dream_wia_dream for reading bits as I posted them in a chat. Err… I wanted them naked much sooner it just didn't happen. (Harry and Ron...not dream_wia_dream and madam_minnie.)
"Well, Hermione," Harry sighed and sat down on the ground next to his best friend. "I really fucked things up."
Harry shook his head and sighed, "I know…I know. I shouldn't curse but I really have bollocks things up."
"I guess since Ron was injured in the final battle I've gotten a bit overprotective, but he takes all these risks." Harry fiddled with his gloves. "He thinks I'm smothering him."
Harry stared at the clouds and watched the first few snowflakes fall to the ground. He could see his breath and it seemed that winter was finally upon them. He tugged his leather gloves on and shivered slightly in the cold night air.
"I just feel responsible for keeping him safe you know," Harry leaned his head back against the stone. "He taught me everything—he protected me and was willing to sacrifice his life for mine even though I told him I wasn't worth it."
Harry traced a pattern in the snow that was gathering on the ground next to him. He needed to get all this out because there was going to be hell to pay when he got back to the flat he shared with Ron.
"Ron found out I was having him followed, Hermione," Harry muttered. "He's going to hit the fan. He caught Terry and basically accused him of being a stalker. Terry got defensive and then blurted out that I was paying him to keep an eye on Ron. I guess Ron started putting everything together and he sent me a Howler."
Harry took a drink of the hot chocolate he had purchased and shook his head to get rid of the snowflakes from his hair. He shuddered slightly remembering the Howler that had arrived in Oliver Wood's office during a team meeting and his lips tightened when everyone had burst into laughter when it exploded in his face and Ron's very angry voice had filled the office.
"Stop laughing, Hermione," Harry muttered. "It was a full Weasley Howler—worse than the one Ron's mum sent second year. So what do I do, Hermione. He'll have a search party out for me soon enough. I didn't go home and I'm sure he's finished with his assignment by now—he's going to murder me."
Harry closed his eyes, "This is hopeless and I'm going to freeze to death out here in the snow." He stood slowly. "I sure wish you were here, Hermione."
He reached down and brushed the snow from the marbled headstone, "I could sure use your advice."
Harry glanced down at the resting place of his best friend and felt tears welling in his eyes. He missed her so much it hurt, and since her death, he'd gotten a bit over protective. But he'd already lost Hermione; there was no way he could bear to lose Ron too
He pressed his fingers to his lips and blew a kiss towards where he imaged Hermione might stand if she were still here and the turned on his heel to head home.
He never saw the figure materialize and sigh sadly, "I miss you boys, too."
It took him nearly an hour to walk home He needed to clear his thoughts and knew walking was the best way. He also desperately wanted to avoid Ron and hopefully he had cooled down by now. The snow was falling heavily and the light dusting that the Prophet had predicted was quickly turning into a full fledge white out. Harry gloves were soaked through and he was completely chilled. He rubbed his hands together as he entered to foyer to their flat and when he shut the door behind him, he relished the warmth coming from the radiators.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?"
A very angry Ron Weasley came around the corner and glared at Harry. His blue eyes burned with a mix of worry and anger. His hair was messy and Harry knew he'd been running his hands through it like he always did when he was upset. His jaw was clenched and Harry could see the muscle there twitching. In short, Ron looked more than slightly sexy and he couldn't help but let his eyes rake up and down Ron's body.
"Out," Ron growled and Harry felt a shiver run up his spine. "You were out? You're drenched to the bone. It's bloody freezing out and you're going to get sick!"
"You don't get sick from the cold," Harry muttered as he hung his coat up. "You get sick from germs."
Ron threw his hands up in disgust and headed towards the kitchen. He slammed open the door, driving the knob into the wall, and Harry carefully took his boots off before following him.
"Inconsiderate, lousy, bastard," Ron was muttering as he charmed the teakettle to brew. "He knew I wanted to talk to him tonight about this shite he's pulling, but oh no. The great Harry Potter couldn't be bothered to be at home."
Ron slammed the teacups down on the table, shattering one, and Harry leaned against the doorframe to watch.
"Bloody git," Ron continued to rant as he repaired the mug. "Getting Kingsley to put me on desk duty, making sure that I'm not out in the field, charming my broom to fly slower, and having Terry Boot follow me on dates! Honestly, how am I ever supposed to get a pull if Terry is watching me! Bloke's fancied me since Hogwarts."
"Ron," Harry said as he pushed away from the doorframe. "Let me explain."
Ron turned and leaned against the stove, he rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yes, please explain!" Ron's voice was sharp with frustration. "When did you stop believing I could handle myself?"
"It's not that!" Harry said feeling a shiver of anger flow through him. "I was trying to protect you."
"From what exactly, Harry?" Ron tapped his foot and Harry was briefly reminded of Hermione. "Having Terry stalk me is a bit unnerving you know and my broom is the laugh of the Auror department. I don't even like to play Quidditch on it because Fred and George take the mickey out of me."
"Well you see it's like this—"
"Like what Harry! I haven't had a proper shag in months and now I know why!"
Is getting laid all you care about? I thought you wanted to hear my explaination." Harry slammed his hand down on the table. "I have to protect you. I can't let you get hurt."
"Getting hurt is a part of life, Harry," Ron shouted and tugged the teakettle as it started to whistle. "You can't keep watch over me twenty four hours a day."
"I can and I will! Damn it, there are still Death Eaters out there! Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban again and Rodolphus Lestrange is still on the loose!" Harry screamed as he felt a shiver of fear run up and down his spine. "I won't have it happen again!"
He sank down in the chair and buried his head in his hands. He felt Ron come behind him and he tensed when his hands came down to rest on his shoulders.
"Harry you aren't going to lose me."
"You can't know that, Ron," Harry's voice was muffled by his hands. "You can't know that I won't. "
Ron's hands moved from his shoulders and a moment later he was kneeling on the floor in front of Harry. Harry couldn't help but fight him as Ron tried to pull his hands away from his face and finally he relented. There were tears in his eyes when Ron cupped his cheeks and he was almost embarrassed by the look in Ron's eyes.
"You won't lose me, Harry."
"You can't promise," Harry reached out and fisted his hands in Ron's shirt. "You can't."
"No one can," Ron's thumbs brushed along Harry's cheeks and Harry tried not to lean into his touch. "But I'm not happy, Harry. I'm not living, I'm suffocating."
"I just," Harry began and swallowed hard. "You're the thing I'd miss most. Even after all these years and we lost Hermione."
"Why? Why am I the thing you'd miss most, Harry?" Ron asked and before he could speak again his voice was cut off by Harry's mouth pressing against his.
To say Ron was startled was an understatement. To say he was completely and totally aroused by the way Harry's tongue slid past his lips, the way his lips tasted of cocoa, and the way Harry's fingers felt against his scalp would be one hundred percent accurate.
Ron was just starting to respond to the kiss when Harry tore his lips away. Ron followed them, blindly seeking more of Harry, and without warning Harry Apparated.
"Bloody buggering hell!" Ron shouted and slammed his fist down on Harry's empty chair.
Harry hadn't gone far. Actually, he hadn't even managed to Apparate out of the flat, and he blinked several times when he took in his surroundings. The loo,he thought to himself.
"At least Ron won't think to look here," he muttered under his breath. "He's going to pummel me."
Harry sighed heavily and sank down on to the toilet seat. He hadn't really realized why it was so important to keep Ron safe. He'd really just assumed his protectiveness steamed from his friendship with Ron and the loss of Hermione. He'd always known Ron was the thing he'd miss most but he assumed it was because Ron was his best mate.
So how long had he been in love with Ron? Since the very beginning? He'd never had the impulse to kiss Ron before now. Sure, he dreamed of him occasionally, but he assumed that was normal.
Ron had just looked so…kissable. He had been kneeling on the floor in front of Harry. His eyes were wide and open, his lips were slightly chapped from the winter wind, and he looked so earnest. So completely and totally kissable that Harry hadn't even realized what he was going to do before he did it.
Fuck if he hadn't ruined everything between them. Ron was going to hate him.
Will he really? He's gay… A small voice taunted Harry. That's why you had Terry following him on dates isn't it? You didn't want to own up to your own feelings?
Harry sighed and wondered if he could just stay in the loo all night. He was so tired and he decided if he could just rest for a little bit he'd know what to do. He transfigured a pillow out of the fresh towels Ron must have put on the counter for him and crawled into the bathtub. It wasn't as comfortable as his bed but it would have to do for now.
The rain woke Harry up. At least that's what he thought until it began to pour, and it was warm rain. Funny there was a blizzard…
"What the hell are you doing, Harry?" Ron shouted his voice bouncing off the tiles and Harry blinked his eyes several times. "Do you have any idea what I've been doing for the last three hours? I've been bloody well searching for you in a blizzard."
"You turned the shower on?" Harry wiped the water from his eyes.
"You are completely missing the point, Harry!" Ron growled.
Harry's mouth watered when Ron stripped off his jumper and tossed it into the corner. He licked his lips and stood up but Ron was too quick and stepped into the shower before he could escape. In three seconds he had tossed Harry's wand across the room and pinned Harry to the wall.
"What point," Harry tried to shoulder himself past Ron. "Let me out. I'm all wet."
"No," Ron said firmly and dipped his head. "Why are you running away from me?"
"I'm not running away," Harry answered. "I fancied a nap!"
"A nap," Ron repeated. "You fancied a nap in the bathtub? That's completely mental! Let me tell you what I think. You love me, and you're so terrified of feeling anything but unhappiness that you won't let yourself feel me."
"That's not true!"
"It's not?" Ron said calmly and snagged Harry's wrist. "Tell me then: do you feel me?"
Harry's knees nearly gave out when Ron pressed his hand to the front of his jeans. He bit his lip and closed his eyes.
"Open your eyes, Harry," Ron said and Harry could feel Ron's breath ghosting against his lips. "Harry."
It took all the effort Harry could muster to open his eyes. His hand was still resting on Ron's jeans and he could feel Ron swelling against his palm. It was the most erotic and frightening thing Harry had ever felt and he wasn't sure whether to run away screaming or to snog Ron senseless.
"Do you feel me?" Ron repeated and Harry licked his lips several times before responding.
"Do you understand that you do this to me?"
"But…I—" Harry stammered.
"You've done this to me for years," Ron whispered his lips brushed against Harry's. "Years—and I assumed you were straight."
"Maybe," Harry whispered back. "I'm slightly bent."
Ron pressed his hip forward, more firmly into Harry's hand, and he nipped Harry's bottom lip.
"Don't tease me, Harry," Ron's hands went to the buttons on Harry's shirt. "Don't play games with me. Do you have feelings for me?"
"This isn't about should or shouldn't," Ron said as he slid his hand inside Harry's shirt. "What does this tell you?" Harry shuddered as Ron laid his hand over Harry's heart.
Harry couldn't find the words to speak, he couldn't say it, and he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed Ron hard, on the lips, and his hand shook as he undid the Ron's fly. His hand was inside Ron's jeans and under the waistband of his boxers before Ron could begin to respond to the kiss. He pushed his tongue past Ron's lips and swallowed Ron's groan of pleasure as he began to stroke him from tip to base. He moved quickly in case Ron changed his mind and broke away from Ron's lips. He was on his knees before Ron could move and with a muffled groan he took the tip of Ron's cock in his mouth.
"Harry…" Ron groaned. "Was that a yes?"
Harry looked up and released Ron with a rather ungainly slurp.
"Ron, when a bloke has his lips around your cock, assume the answer is yes." Harry grinned up at him and Ron rolled his eyes.
"You talk too much, Harry," Ron grunted as Harry licked the head of his cock. "Less talking."
Harry really had no idea what he was doing, he was positive that he knew what he liked, and tried to remember the one time he'd had this done to him. He found if he stroked the base of Ron's cock and concentrated on sucking the rest of his length he could do it with out his gag reflex kicking in. He could feel Ron trembling and relished the grunts and moans spilling from Ron's lips.
His free hand tugged Ron's jeans down and he realized that the shower was still running. He looked up at Ron and almost lost his breath. Ron was standing with his head thrown back, water was pouring over his head, and his skin glistened with drops of moisture.
"Ha…rrr..yy…" Ron's mouth hung open and he was gasping for breath. "I want to touch you."
His hand slid to Harry's shoulders and he tugged, pulling Harry away from his cock, and up. His hands were shaking as the slid to Harry's flies and he undid them quickly. Harry moaned as Ron claimed his lips, his hips thrust forward as Ron pushed his trousers down, and he raised his leg when Ron closed his hand around his cock.
"Oh fuck," Harry grunted. "I need."
"I know what you need," Ron growled and bent his knees slightly. "I always know what you need."
Harry's head fell against Ron's shoulder as Ron lined up their shafts and together they began to stroke. His mouth hung open in a silent moan and he felt his balls tightening. Ron was panting and cursing. They moved together in perfect harmony, the way they always did, and Harry was already close to the edge.
"Do. You. Have. Feelings." Ron panted in Harry's ear; his hand was stroking faster along their shafts, bumping Harry's, and his tongue darted in and out of Harry's ear.
Ron ran his thumb over the tip of Harry's cock and Harry's body shuddered. The drops of water from the shower were like fire against his skin and he sucked the droplets that trailed down Ron's neck as he came. His shout was hoarse and it bounced against the walls and he felt Ron jerk in his arms. Ron grunt mingled with his moans and he felt Ron's release splash over his fingers.
They stood there in the shower, panting, their harsh breathing echoed against the tiles, and he felt Harry's legs shook.
"So do we need," Harry said finally after catching his breath. "To talk about this?"
Ron rolled his eyes and pushed Harry under the spray of the shower.
"You talk too much," he smirked as he bent his head. "Less talking, more snogging."
Harry grinned back and closed the distance between them.