post-DH fic - "Come On" - Ron/Harry
Title: Come On
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Warning: This is post DH, so spoilers. Also, hasn't been beta-d or even reread by me :) Oh, and there's sex. Duh.
Wordcount: 960 (in 45 minutes...Pretty nice)
Spoilers liek woah.
Come On
The trio lay side by side in matching beds, once again confined to the hospital wing. While Harry had been telling Ron and Hermione the whole story, and then speaking to Professor Dumbledore on the matter of the ring, Madam Pomfrey had remembered her duties as a mediwitch and went to find her wayward charges.
She met them at the entrance to Gryffindor tower and with a stern look (“Now now, you may be the saviour of the wizarding world but I must insist on keeping you over not in the Hospital wing. Just for observation tonight.”). Once the standard potions were consumer, she left them to the row of beds.
Hermione and Ron seemed to drift into sleep quickly, but for all he’d been through, even though he was physically and mentally exhausted, Harry couldn’t relax enough to sleep.
Voldemort was dead. That didn’t worry him. But he was feeling the enormity of his actions. At the a mere 12 months ago he had heard the prophecy and had known in his gut that he wouldn’t be living past this year. And now, he was. His future stretched before him and he couldn’t see where to start. Obviously he’d have to talk to ginny, but there would be the funerals, the rebuilding of the wizarding world and Hogwarts. Death Eaters would have trials, that The Choosen One would have to attend. It was all so much.
Harry bit his hand, his chest was tight and his eyes burned. Slowly he slipped from his bed and made his way to the large bathroom. Turning the shower on to mask his noise, he set the set of the loo down and sat on it. He could feel the tears brimming in his eyes but he fought to keep them in. He had won! He was going to live. This thought brought the tears and pain to the forefront. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin....so many people had died so that he may could go on.
He didn’t know for how long he sat there, but his sobs stilled abruptly as he heard the door swing open.
“Hey mate,” said on, standing awkwardly in the door way. Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to hide the signs of his pain.
“Hey, just couldn’t sleep.”
The door swung shut and Harry heard the sound of the lock turning and a quiet whisper. Harry stared up at Ron, but Ron mutely pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. “Come on.” Ron moved over to the shower, and pulling it back quickly, “Ice cold, were you planning on freezing yourself to death?” Ron didn’t wait for Harry’s reply, pulling his wand free of his trouser pocket he tapped the shower head and steam began to rise as heat filled the bathroom. Ron shucked off his trousers and pants quickly and stepped into the warm water. He glanced back over his shoulder at Harry. “Come on.”
Stiffly Harry stood up and mechanically began to undress. He stepped into the shower, and Ron pulled him under the torrent of water. Harry turned his face up into the stream and let it beat on his head and shoulders as if it could beat out his thoughts and his memories of the past days.
His back muscles twitched, when he felt a hand rest at the root of his spine, but he stayed under water and a moment later a sudsy washcloth rubbed across his back. The sobs broke loose from his chest again and he stumbled back into Ron as the taller boy wrapped his arm about Harry’s waist.
“Shhh, it’s ok.” The washcloth had found it’s way to Harry’s front, rubbing his chest and shoulders as they heaved with the tears forcing their way out. Long minutes passed before Harry’s sobs died away. The pain was still holding his chest tight and his breath came in gasps, but the tears had stopped.
Harry moaned in surprise, as Ron’s washcloth wiped over his groin. Ron still had his left arm about Harry’s waist and he gave him a light squeeze and placed a kiss on Harry’s left temple, all the while running his cloth over Harry’s quickly stiffening penis. “Ron?”
“Shh, it’s ok.” With the water raining down on them, and Ron’s breath rasping against Harry’s ear, he could almost not remember what wait for him on the other side of the door. As Ron fisted his penis with the washcloth, Harry moaned, and let his body go limp against Ron’s, the arm at his waist tightened and the hand on his prick took up an ever changing pace, bringing him close to release and then backing off, though the mood was not teasing.
As the ache in his balls increased, the pain in his chest loosened, the hard and soft strokes of Ron’s hand brining him freedom from his pain. A whisper of a kiss on his cheek, “Come on Harry, give it up. Don’t keep all that pain inside you.”
With a gasp that was more of a sob, Harry felt his release spread through his body, the pain of his friends deaths escaping his chest on the back of his ejaculation.
Ron held him tight to his chest as he dropped the washcloth and turned off the cooling water. He propped Harry against the wall and dried them both off with a flick of his wand before dressing them both in their pajamas again.
Harry could barely keep his eyes open as Ron grasped his hand and pulled him out of the bathroom and led him to his bed, tucking the sheets in around his chin. Ron was the last thing he saw as he finally succumbed to sleep.
Pairing: Ron/Harry
Warning: This is post DH, so spoilers. Also, hasn't been beta-d or even reread by me :) Oh, and there's sex. Duh.
Wordcount: 960 (in 45 minutes...Pretty nice)
Spoilers liek woah.
Come On
The trio lay side by side in matching beds, once again confined to the hospital wing. While Harry had been telling Ron and Hermione the whole story, and then speaking to Professor Dumbledore on the matter of the ring, Madam Pomfrey had remembered her duties as a mediwitch and went to find her wayward charges.
She met them at the entrance to Gryffindor tower and with a stern look (“Now now, you may be the saviour of the wizarding world but I must insist on keeping you over not in the Hospital wing. Just for observation tonight.”). Once the standard potions were consumer, she left them to the row of beds.
Hermione and Ron seemed to drift into sleep quickly, but for all he’d been through, even though he was physically and mentally exhausted, Harry couldn’t relax enough to sleep.
Voldemort was dead. That didn’t worry him. But he was feeling the enormity of his actions. At the a mere 12 months ago he had heard the prophecy and had known in his gut that he wouldn’t be living past this year. And now, he was. His future stretched before him and he couldn’t see where to start. Obviously he’d have to talk to ginny, but there would be the funerals, the rebuilding of the wizarding world and Hogwarts. Death Eaters would have trials, that The Choosen One would have to attend. It was all so much.
Harry bit his hand, his chest was tight and his eyes burned. Slowly he slipped from his bed and made his way to the large bathroom. Turning the shower on to mask his noise, he set the set of the loo down and sat on it. He could feel the tears brimming in his eyes but he fought to keep them in. He had won! He was going to live. This thought brought the tears and pain to the forefront. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin....so many people had died so that he may could go on.
He didn’t know for how long he sat there, but his sobs stilled abruptly as he heard the door swing open.
“Hey mate,” said on, standing awkwardly in the door way. Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to hide the signs of his pain.
“Hey, just couldn’t sleep.”
The door swung shut and Harry heard the sound of the lock turning and a quiet whisper. Harry stared up at Ron, but Ron mutely pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. “Come on.” Ron moved over to the shower, and pulling it back quickly, “Ice cold, were you planning on freezing yourself to death?” Ron didn’t wait for Harry’s reply, pulling his wand free of his trouser pocket he tapped the shower head and steam began to rise as heat filled the bathroom. Ron shucked off his trousers and pants quickly and stepped into the warm water. He glanced back over his shoulder at Harry. “Come on.”
Stiffly Harry stood up and mechanically began to undress. He stepped into the shower, and Ron pulled him under the torrent of water. Harry turned his face up into the stream and let it beat on his head and shoulders as if it could beat out his thoughts and his memories of the past days.
His back muscles twitched, when he felt a hand rest at the root of his spine, but he stayed under water and a moment later a sudsy washcloth rubbed across his back. The sobs broke loose from his chest again and he stumbled back into Ron as the taller boy wrapped his arm about Harry’s waist.
“Shhh, it’s ok.” The washcloth had found it’s way to Harry’s front, rubbing his chest and shoulders as they heaved with the tears forcing their way out. Long minutes passed before Harry’s sobs died away. The pain was still holding his chest tight and his breath came in gasps, but the tears had stopped.
Harry moaned in surprise, as Ron’s washcloth wiped over his groin. Ron still had his left arm about Harry’s waist and he gave him a light squeeze and placed a kiss on Harry’s left temple, all the while running his cloth over Harry’s quickly stiffening penis. “Ron?”
“Shh, it’s ok.” With the water raining down on them, and Ron’s breath rasping against Harry’s ear, he could almost not remember what wait for him on the other side of the door. As Ron fisted his penis with the washcloth, Harry moaned, and let his body go limp against Ron’s, the arm at his waist tightened and the hand on his prick took up an ever changing pace, bringing him close to release and then backing off, though the mood was not teasing.
As the ache in his balls increased, the pain in his chest loosened, the hard and soft strokes of Ron’s hand brining him freedom from his pain. A whisper of a kiss on his cheek, “Come on Harry, give it up. Don’t keep all that pain inside you.”
With a gasp that was more of a sob, Harry felt his release spread through his body, the pain of his friends deaths escaping his chest on the back of his ejaculation.
Ron held him tight to his chest as he dropped the washcloth and turned off the cooling water. He propped Harry against the wall and dried them both off with a flick of his wand before dressing them both in their pajamas again.
Harry could barely keep his eyes open as Ron grasped his hand and pulled him out of the bathroom and led him to his bed, tucking the sheets in around his chin. Ron was the last thing he saw as he finally succumbed to sleep.