All the Aurors had a smile on their face, and a beer in their hand.
All except for Ron, who had a white-knuckle grip on the bottle in his hand.
Only hours earlier he had watched as Harry dove recklessly into an unknown Floo after two escaping Death Eaters.
The rest of team could do nothing but wait. No one dared speak above a whisper. The tension in the room built as Ron’s fear and frustration mounted. He paced back and forth while glaring at the fire and tapping his wand against the side of thigh.
After several anxiety filled minutes, Harry Apparated back among them with the Death Eaters bound at his feet… and with a bleeding shoulder.
Now back at the office, that moment was already a distant memory to everyone else. Harry’s deep Sectus wound had been healed and the whole department was celebrating the close of their case.
Including Terry-Fucking-Boot, who was always there to be a pain in Ron’s arse.
When Boot handed Harry a beer, his fingertips grazed over Harry’s knuckles. From across the room Ron had now counted three times that Boot had touched Harry’s arm.
Four! The dick.
Harry didn’t even seem to notice.
Harry made jokes, and while the rest laughed, Terry shoved his arm, letting his fingers trail down to Harry’s elbow.
Ron chewed the inside of his lip, fuming in anger.
Harry was a celebrity, and a hero, and being gay was just another facet of his eccentricity as far as most people were concerned. Though their relationship was common knowledge, he didn’t want preferential treatment just because he was Harry’s lover. So he preferred to keep a low profile in public, which often gave others, namely Boot, the impression that Harry was available.
He’s not available. He’s mine, Ron thought angrily.
Harry sought Ron out with his eyes and when they found each other, Harry gave him his bright smile. Ron returned it with a wink, a brief and private acknowledgment between them.
Then Boot tousled Harry’s hair to pull attention back to the group.
Ron couldn’t handle anymore of this. He stood and made his way across the room, standing awkwardly out of place in front of Harry.
Harry beamed at him, his eyes sparkling.
“Hey, what’s up, mate?” Harry asked.
“I’m going home now,” Ron said in a low voice, shifting on his feet, looking at Terry who had suddenly taken up conversation elsewhere.
“All right, I’ll meet up with you later then, just finish my beer first.” Harry pushed his glasses up and took another pull on his bottle.
Ron gritted his teeth. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled, clenching and flexing his fists. “That’s your last one, right?”
Harry looked at him with amused suspicion. “Err, yeah, sure.”
Ron nodded, not feeling at all reassured and turned to leave. As he reached the office doorway, he heard Boot’s voice again.
“Here’s another cold one, Harry, my boy, bottom’s up.”
Ron looked over his shoulder to see Boot exchanging Harry’s nearly empty warm beer with a fresh one, sitting close enough to Harry on the desk that the sides of their legs were touching.
Ron watched on, feeling the vein in his neck starting to throb and his blood pressure increased.
Harry, now re-telling his story again, managed to scoot over to the side, creating a more appropriate distance between himself and Boot. When everyone laughed, Boot slapped Harry’s knee, and his hand stayed in place, stroking up Harry’s thigh, and back down, and then back up again before removing his hand.
Ron snapped. Fuck decorum in the workplace. They could all piss off. He wasn’t going to leave Harry here to be exposed to Boot’s drunken advances.
He stormed back into the office, right up to Harry, who looked up at him with his gorgeous, blinking eyes; and smiled.
“Ron? Wha-?” but he was silenced when Ron snatched the bottle from his hand. He thrust it hard into Boot’s chest with a quiet growl in his throat, and a cold stare, just daring Boot to open his mouth and say even a word.
Boot was sharp enough to heed the warning and stood back.
Ron took Harry by the arm just above the elbow and pulled him off of the desk and onto his feet.
“What ’re ya doing?” Harry asked, sounding surprised and a little amused.
“Taking you home,” Ron said firmly, already walking.
“But –okay,” Harry said, nearly running along side Ron, who still held him tight by the arm.
“Hey, Weasley,” Terry called after them, “leave off him, eh. Why don’t you let him stick around? …I’ll look after Potter.”
Ron stopped, still holding Harry’s arm. Giving Boot a fierce look, he grabbed the back of Harry’s head with his free hand and pulled him up into a kiss. It was hard and wet, and lasted long enough for the stunned silence in the room to give way to cat-calls, whistles and laughter.
Ron broke off his territorial kiss, and led Harry straight into the fireplace outside the department office.
“You first,” Ron said as threw a handful of Floo powder at Harry’s feet. Green flames erupted, whisking Harry away with a very bewildered look on his face.
When Ron stepped out of the fire and into their living room, Harry was sitting against the arm of a chair, a mild smile playing in the corners of his mouth.
“Okay, Auror Weasley, you wanted me home, now what are you going to do with me?” Harry looked ready and eager to play.
Ron just shook his head, his face still stern as he tossed his robe onto the back of the couch.
“No?” Harry said, looking confused. “Wait, what the hell was that about then?”
Ron took a breath, but decided against saying anything and just huffed instead.
“Wait a minute. You just made a big scene in front everyone, and now you don’t want to explain yourself?”
“Oh well I’m sorry I made a scene. You should have just come home with me when I first mentioned it.” Ron fairly snarled at Harry, and winced when he realized how harsh he sounded.
“What? Since when you do you determine my curfew? I had just told you I’d be home soon.”
Ron snorted, and walked passed him.
“You bastard, what’s the matter with you? Damn it!” He followed Ron up the stairs.
“‘S been a shitty day, Harry. Just forget it.”
“I will not forget about it. You’re pissed at me, and I bloody well wanna know why!”
Ron stopped at the top of stairs, his hand on the banister. He took a deep breath, keeping his back to Harry.
“I’m not angry. I’m not angry at you.”
Harry mounted the final stair. Moving in close to Ron, he put his fingertips on the small of Ron’s back, pressing a light kiss on his shoulder blade.
“What’d I do, then?” Harry’s question was barely audible as he muttered it into Ron’s back.
“You?” Ron’s voice was full of annoyance again as he walked off. “Never mind.”
“Hang on, you’re being unreasonable!” Harry raised his voice after Ron.
“Me? You’re the one letting him fawn all over you.”
Harry blinked. “I -What’d you mean?”
Ron growled and started walking away again. “You’re unbelievable, Harry! You’re a fuckin’ deadly Auror, and you’re an amazing shag and yet you can stand there blinking at me behind those vulnerable looking glasses and not know when blokes are chatting you up!"
Harry seemed to boggle at the incongruity of Ron’s complimenting words and his resentful tone of voice.
“This, this is about Terry isn’t it? I wasn’t encouraging him. Are you saying I was encouraging him?”
“Y’are too! What was I supposed to do then? We have to work with him you know?”
Ron spun around, bristling with anger and stalked slowly back towards Harry, who froze, wide-eyed at Ron’s approach.
“You really wanna know what you’re supposed to do?” Ron asked in hushed intensity.
Harry nodded, looking up at Ron.
Ron tilted his head looking Harry up and down, licking his lips. “The next time Fucking-Boot touches you, you tell him you’re going to break his fucking arm off if he does it again.”
Even if Ron was being a tad irrational, Harry dared not laugh.
“And if he does do it again…” Ron’s voice was cold as trailed his fingers down Harry’s arm “…you do exactly what you said you would.” And he suddenly bent Harry’s wrist at an odd angle, catching him off guard, maneuvering Harry’s arm behind him, slamming him into the wall in front of them.
Harry grunted when his chest hit the wall.
Ron’s grip on Harry’s twisted arm eased up and he stepped close into Harry’s back. The crackling tension between them was magnified by Ron’s obvious arousal pressing against him.
“Ron?” Harry looked back at Ron’s face, whose eyes had spotted the torn and bloodied shirt on Harry’s shoulder from his earlier wound.
Ron winced and bowed his head, releasing Harry’s hand and stepping back.
“Take off that bloody shirt, I’m tired of looking at it,” Ron said, now more weary than angry, as he released Harry and walked away from him.
A moment later, Harry heard the shower running. He was confused and angry. He felt guilty, but he didn’t know why.
He decided to join Ron in the shower, and if he couldn’t talk sense into him, maybe they could fight and shag at least.
When he pulled back the curtain to climb in, Ron slipped out passed him. Without looking at Harry, and taking great care to ensure their naked bodies didn’t touch, he grabbed towel off the rail and left the room.
Harry couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to cry or scream punch something with his frustration while he washed. Ron was just impossible sometimes.
He found Ron slumped down into the low, wide, comfortable armchair by the fireplace. Harry padded quietly across the floor and stood in front of Ron. He didn’t up look at Harry, he just stared into the low burning fire that enhanced Ron’s beautiful ginger glow.
It didn’t matter who was wrong, or who was angry. Ron was so stubborn; no matter how badly he wanted to reach out for Harry, he would remain distant until Harry reached to him.
Harry kneeled on the carpet, moving between Ron’s thighs. He set his glasses on the floor before he slid his hands around Ron’s trim waist and leaned in close, snuggling his face against Ron’s stomach. He was prepared for his attentions to be rebuffed by Ron, but still he held on.
He waited as minute ticked passed, knowing he’d come around eventually.
Harry buried his smile into the freckles on Ron’s belly when he finally touched his back
Ron rubbed his fingertips up Harry’s spine, up the back of his neck and into his hair, pausing to swirl through his damp hair, before running back down his spine again.
Harry let out a sigh of relief and squeezed Ron tighter. He looked up at Ron, and again he was looking at the fresh pink scar on his shoulder, fingering over the new line that marred his skin. He looked worried.
Harry thought he finally understood now.
“I got hurt today.”
Ron nodded, not looking at him.
“You worried about me.”
He nodded again.
“And you couldn’t do anything about it.”
Ron shook his head this time. Harry smiled. He was growing hard and was thankful they weren’t a couple of witches who had to talk through every misunderstanding. A good shag cleared the air just as well.
He withdrew his hands from around Ron and pushed his boxers down and wriggled out of them.
“You wanted to touch me and hold me, and look after me, but you couldn’t.”
Harry saw the rise and fall of Ron’s chest quicken and every angle and curve of his body was punctuated by the flickering firelight.
Harry leaned forward, and kissed Ron’s belly button, just above the still secured bath towel. He kissed the muscular centerline going up to the hollow of his breastbone, where he rubbed his nose against the soft copper hairs that formed a light diamond there. He placed kisses around one nipple, and felt Ron’s hardening cock jump against his stomach.
“Did you think I might not come home to you?” Harry tugged against the towel at Ron’s waist, revealing a growing erection nestled in copper curls.
“All those people touched me tonight, except you. Did you think I didn’t notice?” Harry hooked his forearms under Ron’s thighs, pulling him forward and down in the deep chair until his arse hung off the edge.
Harry concentrated and Accioed a small tube from a drawer in the end table.
“Don’t you know I will always come back to you?” Harry lifted one of Ron’s legs from behind the knee, pushing it back against his chest.
He leaned down and nosed Ron’s soft sac. He smelled clean but with the faintest hint of his musk that triggered something deep inside Harry’s brain and that drew them together on some chemical level.
He sucked and licked on his balls, before letting his tongue dive lower between his parted arse cheeks.
Ron mewled through his tightly pursed lips as Harry probed his tight entrance. Harry coated his own cock with the lube as felt Ron relax against his exploring tongue.
Harry straightened up and lifted Ron’s other leg, pushing both of his knees up. “Don’t you know that I belong to you?” Ron eyes fluttered closed and he nodded.
“Nguhh...” Was the only the only sound Ron made, while Harry pushed his cock only a little, waiting for the delicate tissue to submit to his entry.
Ron’s reached blindly above him, grasping the back of the chair while his body slowly made way for the delicious burn that accompanied their joining.
“I’m all yours, Ron. …And you belong to me.” Harry pushed and pulled out, and pushed again, until he was buried deep.
Ron finally opened his eyes wide, and panted with an open mouth at the intensity of being filled, body and soul.
He reached for Harry’s face and pulled him close, resting their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, frowning as Harry’s thrust.
Harry gasped at the heat and friction that surrounded him. “You should trust me,” he said, thrusting harder, the tight pleasure spurring him on.
“I do,” Ron answered in a hushed voice.
“Trust in us,” Harry’s voice commanded, withdrawing and pushing in again.
“Fuck, yes -I do,” Ron breathed. Harry pushed Ron’s legs up, hooking his knees over his shoulders, and then leaned over Ron to kiss him.
“Never forget that.” Their lips barely brushing, while each tongue rolled in gentle strength with its mate.
“I won’t… ahhh.”
Harry shifted on his knees closer, thrusting wholly into him, his hips pounding against creamy buttocks.
He watched as Ron tried and failed to maintain his eye contact through each forceful plunge. Each pleasure filled wince and scowl that distorted Ron’s beautiful face filled Harry with pride as claimed his lion lover.
Harry felt clammy and hot as his shower moist skin broke into a sweat. The drops of perspiration tickling his cheek as it trickled down and off his jaw onto Ron’s chest.
Ron flexed his thighs against Harry’s chest, with instinctive reaction to resist against the magnificent assault on his body.
“I-won’t, last, much-longer,” Harry panted, grasping the tops of Ron’s thighs for leverage. He reached for Ron’s ignored cock, but Ron held Harry’s wrist, pulling Harry’s fingers to his lips
“Don’t wanna come yet,” Ron whispered, his eyes still closed. “You.”
Harry didn’t need any more instruction. Giving into the building wave of his climax, he bucked his hips harder, with pause on every drive inward.
One, two, three more times, before a graveled shout followed his forceful release.
Harry remained motionless, breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Feeling nothing but glorious aftershocks continuing to jolt through him, his still semi-firm cock being squeezed by Ron’s body.
Then Ron’s long fingers were stroking his face, tracing his eyebrows and his cheekbones and his jaw.
“Love you, Harry.”
Harry opened his eyes, carefully letting Ron’s legs fall back to the floor. He bent to kiss Ron’s chest as his cock slipped out of him, causing Ron to whimper.
“Love you, too. So much.”
Harry breathed along the length of Ron’s cock as it twitched against his lips. Feeling Ron’s loving hands glide over his shoulders and through his hair the whole time. Harry took him in, swirling his tongue around the tip, wetting it before sucking in the entire length. He tasted perfectly bittersweet.
Ron’s gently tugged his hair, pulling his head back. “‘S brilliant, love, but ’s not what I want.”
Harry took his time releasing Ron’s swollen cock from his lips.
Harry had the cunning ability to radiate innocence, regardless that he’d just buggered Ron in a chair and his lips were still wet from sucking him.
Ron just smirked and shook his head, sliding down off of the chair to kneel in front of him. He pulled Harry into the strong embrace he knew Harry had been waiting for since they first came home. One sweaty chest pressed against the other. He descended on Harry’s mouth, pulling Harry’s lips with his own, their tongues working in tandem exploration.
“Whaddyou want, Ron?” Harry said, gasping for breath, “tell me what you want. Wanna make you feel good now.”
Ron kissed his way along Harry’s cheek and paused to suck on his soft earlobe. “Want to fuck you.”
“Uhm, hmm,” Ron answered, releasing Harry from his arms. It was such a turn-on to see Harry blush and drop his eyes, as he turned around onto his hands and knees.
Ron shuffled forward, chuckling to himself, while he aligned his knees outside of Harry’s. It was a wonder that Harry could still blush. It made his heart ache to think that Harry’s earliest memories were devoid of seeing normal displays of physical love. Even though everyone in Ron’s house had always giggled and rolled their eyes at their parents open show of affection, the Weasley kids grew up knowing how normal and perfect it was.
Harry didn’t have that confidence. He always carried a layer of guilt deep inside of him. That was what made him blush.
He kissed Harry’s lower back as he stroked lube onto himself. Ron continued to lick Harry’s salty spine as he ran the slippery head of his cock between Harry’s firm arse cheeks.
This time, he wouldn’t take the time to ready Harry with his fingers, but he would take his time.
“I know you’re tired, Harry.” He said, holding the base of his cock as he pressed forward, feeling Harry’s instinctive clench and then his slow, willful relaxation. “I just want to feel you so bad.”
“’S okay. Want you too…” Harry keened, arching as Ron filled him just a bit more.
“I didn’t want to hurt you before. Never, hurt, you.” Ron pulled out an imperceptible amount, and pushed in again, his own grunt mirroring Harry’s. Their bodies slow merging driving all thoughts from his mind.
Ron had felt that he was too long and lanky all of his life, until the first time he hovered over Harry like this. Then he understood how perfect his build was. He was made to be at Harry’s back, to protect him, to love him, to make love to him.
Harry lowered onto his elbows as Ron started a slow, rocking rhythm within him. He reached back with one hand, touching the side of Ron’s hip and arse as he flexed in motion, as though trying to pull him in deeper.
Ron reached his hand under Harry, gliding his hand over the firm muscles in Harry’s chest, over his relaxed stomach, and down over his groin. He pressed the flat of his palm against Harry’s spent but interested erection. Harry moaned against the pressure and Ron knew that even though he wouldn’t come again, the pressure felt good. Then he slid his hand along Harry’s thigh and ran his fingers into the crease of his upper thigh just underneath his hip.
“So sexy, Harry. Love every inch of your body.” It was true. He thought Harry’s smooth, slightly golden skin was so much better looking than his own.
The friction of his body moving within Harry’s made him breathless. He ran his hand back up the front of Harry’s torso, and wrapped his fingers over Harry’s shoulder from underneath, and pulled Harry down and he thrust upward; hard and deep and slow.
“Oh-yes-fuck-don’t-stop,” Harry groaned, falling lower onto his elbows, his chest nearly on carpet. Ron’s strength was waning as he continued his steady thrusting. His stomach and chest lay fully onto Harry’s back as their bodies swayed together, in the rough rhythm that they perfected together.
Ron laced both his hands over top of Harry’s which were palm down on the floor. They curled their fingers together and Harry tilted his head to the side to allow Ron’s kisses and careful bites.
The crackling sensation of his climax began rising up in him, shuddering through his limbs and into his center. His own arse was still tender and wet from Harry’s come, and it left him feeling raw and primal.
“Mine, love fucking you. Perfect.”
“Ron, please-yes. All yours. Love you.”
Harry’s voice finished him. Ron pushed forward one last forceful time and Harry pushed back against him with the last of his strength. Ron groaned deep in his throat as he came with a shudder.
He put one hand on Harry’s hip, pulling his arse close against him as they carefully shifted onto their sides, while Ron remained inside of him.
Ron propped himself on his elbow while he looked down at Harry. He brushed his hair back and kissed his ear and temple.
“Not yet.” Harry said, cracking open his eyes to peek up at Ron.
“Sorry ‘bout earlier. …guess I got jealous.”
Harry grinned. “You think?”
Ron snorted and nuzzled his nose into Harry, while he traced the new scar on Harry’s shoulder.
“Boot thinks he can have it off with you. Wouldn’t be like that if we were married.”
“Married?” Harry’s eyes opened wide at this.
“Don’t get all excited. Just sayin’. If you had a ring on your finger he’d leave off. And then if he didn’t I’d be justified in kicking his arse.”
Harry sniggered. “Aw – you want to fight to defend my honor.”
“I would fight for your honor, you git, if I had too. But this is different. It’d make both of us look weak. You have to be the one to do it.”
“Yeah. Don’t let him get away with touching you anymore, please? I really hate it.”
Harry looked up at him, and reached up into his hair and pulled him down into a kiss, a chaste, dry, soft kiss, which lasted several seconds before they parted.
“Okay, I promise.” Then Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“You wanna sleep here a bit?” Ron asked, hugging him.
“Mm, hmm.” Harry murmured.
Ron reached back and pulled the towel off the chair that Harry had tugged off of him earlier. He covered Harry’s legs, knowing he’d soon get chilly lying there nude. They both fell asleep, with Ron’s arms around Harry’s chest, both sated and sticky with the scent of their sex in the air.
Ron watched Harry from his desk, as Harry filed reports, sending each one flying away with a swish and flick.
Harry was bending to retrieve another stack of parchments when Boot walked passed, he smacked Harry’s backside with the end of his wand and made some unheard wise crack.
Ron nearly bolted out of his chair, but Harry had instantly wheeled around and snagged Terry’s hand and bent it at the wrist. Boot nearly buckled at the knees and Ron could hear him squeak from across the room.
His words were inaudible, but the tone of Harry’s voice carried over. It was deep and threatening, and so sexy Ron got instantly hard upon hearing it.
Harry released Boot's hand, who nodded frantically and backed away.
When he was gone, Harry’s threatening Auror countenance faded as he looked to Ron for his approval with an expectant smile.
Ron nodded to Harry and patted his knuckles against his chest over his heart. “That’s my boy.”