(no subject)
To: gala_apples
From: malicemadden
Merry Christmas!
[Title] Lust at first tryst
[Author] malicemadden
[Pairings] Ron/Oliver.
[Warnings] Masturbating, pyjamas and a shower.
[Disclaimer] Don’t know ‘em, don’t owe ‘em.
[Summary] Ron takes a shower to get ready for a special visit.
[Word Count] 832
[Notes] I apologise on the small word count. This was written weeks ago on a friends laptop and he deleted it not long after. I had to re-write it from memory. *is still freaking out* I owe _disi_ wall-sex for the superfast beta. She rocks my world.
It had started to snow again not long before Ron stepped into the shower on Christmas Eve. The few students that had decided to stay over Christmas break had begun a quiet game of cards in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. All were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the famous Oliver Wood. Though none were as anxious as Ronald Weasley.
Ron had heard a rumour about Oliver’s last visit. Some of the students were saying he and Oliver had ended the night with a drunken pash in the sixth floor broom closet.
Ron's mind however was curiously trying to recall the moment as his memories of that night had faded like the bottle in his hand. He swore to himself that Firewhiskey wouldn't be on his list again anytime soon.
Biting his lip in frustration, Ron began to slowly lather his hair in shampoo as he struggled to recall anything from the drunken tryst.
He let his hands fall to his sides as he leant back against the cool tiles, eyes tightly shut, searching his mind for anything that could explain the knot in his stomach whenever he thought of those eyes and that quidditch toned arse.
"Ron? Oliver’s here!"
He barely heard Harry’s call from the common room as he slid his right hand down his chest towards his abdomen. The shampoo from his hair had washed down his skin and made it slippery to touch. With his eyes still closed, all he could see were images of Oliver’s neck, right before him, heated red from the trail of bite marks he was leaving as he started to recall the night in question.
He moved his hand down slowly and took hold of his pulsating cock. He started gently massaging the shaft. The memories came flooding back and in a moment of clarity he saw Oliver standing before him, slowly peeling his sweat-drenched clothes from his skin with a look on his face Ron would never forget.
He was getting more and more aroused with every stroke. He tightened his hand so his cock was comfortably hugged in his palm. He tipped his neck back as he felt his muscles starting to clench up. His breathing became quick and sharp and his hips automatically started to move in perfect opposition to his fist. His back arched as the water pounded on the tip of his cock, which then aided his climax.
In a few moments, all traces of his forbidden memories were washed down the drain.
Wet haired and slightly flushed, Ron quickly dressed and bounded down the stairs as he heard Oliver’s laugh echoing around the room.
When he reached the bottom, a sudden rush of embarrassment stopped him in his tracks. It was obviously more than a drunken pash the last time they were together. Did Oliver remember? Had he been as drunk as Ron?
Regretting what he was about to do, Ron swiftly ran up the staircase back towards the comfort of his bed. Once there he changed into his pyjamas and ducked under the covers. He knew he was being a coward, but how could he face him? After all, as far as he knew, Oliver was straight.
He shut his eyes tight, determined to feign sleep if anyone tried to enter the room. He would apologise to everyone in the morning, possibly even owling Oliver if he missed his departure. He could say that he felt sick and didn’t want to ruin the night. Fair call, he might just be able to get away with it. Ron thought for a second.
Yes, that would work.
Ron tensed up as he felt someone open the door and step into the room. Praying his face was hidden in the shadows, he opened one eye slowly to glance at the intruder. The figure was standing at the end of his bed staring down at him.
"Ron? I know you’re awake."
Shit.
"Ron. Open your eyes."
Knowing he was caught, Ron opened his eyes and reluctantly lifted himself up onto his elbows.
"That’s better. I know why you didn’t come over to see me. I saw the look on your face when you came down the stairs. You regret what happened last time and you don’t want it to happen again. I understand..."
Oliver lowered his head and shuffled his left foot forward nervously. "It is a pity though. I really would’ve liked you to shag me tonight."
Oliver raised his head and winked as he turned around and walked towards the door before Ron could reply.
Ron threw back his blankets and leapt over a pile of clothes in order to stop him. He might be embarrassed but was damned if he was going to miss this opportunity. He jumped in front of him just beyond the doorway and roughly span him around. Feeling something inside him snap, he demanded Oliver to return to his room.
Oliver grinned. "Yes Master."
The door slammed behind them. Complete privacy.
From: malicemadden
Merry Christmas!
[Title] Lust at first tryst
[Author] malicemadden
[Pairings] Ron/Oliver.
[Warnings] Masturbating, pyjamas and a shower.
[Disclaimer] Don’t know ‘em, don’t owe ‘em.
[Summary] Ron takes a shower to get ready for a special visit.
[Word Count] 832
[Notes] I apologise on the small word count. This was written weeks ago on a friends laptop and he deleted it not long after. I had to re-write it from memory. *is still freaking out* I owe _disi_ wall-sex for the superfast beta. She rocks my world.
It had started to snow again not long before Ron stepped into the shower on Christmas Eve. The few students that had decided to stay over Christmas break had begun a quiet game of cards in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. All were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the famous Oliver Wood. Though none were as anxious as Ronald Weasley.
Ron had heard a rumour about Oliver’s last visit. Some of the students were saying he and Oliver had ended the night with a drunken pash in the sixth floor broom closet.
Ron's mind however was curiously trying to recall the moment as his memories of that night had faded like the bottle in his hand. He swore to himself that Firewhiskey wouldn't be on his list again anytime soon.
Biting his lip in frustration, Ron began to slowly lather his hair in shampoo as he struggled to recall anything from the drunken tryst.
He let his hands fall to his sides as he leant back against the cool tiles, eyes tightly shut, searching his mind for anything that could explain the knot in his stomach whenever he thought of those eyes and that quidditch toned arse.
"Ron? Oliver’s here!"
He barely heard Harry’s call from the common room as he slid his right hand down his chest towards his abdomen. The shampoo from his hair had washed down his skin and made it slippery to touch. With his eyes still closed, all he could see were images of Oliver’s neck, right before him, heated red from the trail of bite marks he was leaving as he started to recall the night in question.
He moved his hand down slowly and took hold of his pulsating cock. He started gently massaging the shaft. The memories came flooding back and in a moment of clarity he saw Oliver standing before him, slowly peeling his sweat-drenched clothes from his skin with a look on his face Ron would never forget.
He was getting more and more aroused with every stroke. He tightened his hand so his cock was comfortably hugged in his palm. He tipped his neck back as he felt his muscles starting to clench up. His breathing became quick and sharp and his hips automatically started to move in perfect opposition to his fist. His back arched as the water pounded on the tip of his cock, which then aided his climax.
In a few moments, all traces of his forbidden memories were washed down the drain.
Wet haired and slightly flushed, Ron quickly dressed and bounded down the stairs as he heard Oliver’s laugh echoing around the room.
When he reached the bottom, a sudden rush of embarrassment stopped him in his tracks. It was obviously more than a drunken pash the last time they were together. Did Oliver remember? Had he been as drunk as Ron?
Regretting what he was about to do, Ron swiftly ran up the staircase back towards the comfort of his bed. Once there he changed into his pyjamas and ducked under the covers. He knew he was being a coward, but how could he face him? After all, as far as he knew, Oliver was straight.
He shut his eyes tight, determined to feign sleep if anyone tried to enter the room. He would apologise to everyone in the morning, possibly even owling Oliver if he missed his departure. He could say that he felt sick and didn’t want to ruin the night. Fair call, he might just be able to get away with it. Ron thought for a second.
Yes, that would work.
Ron tensed up as he felt someone open the door and step into the room. Praying his face was hidden in the shadows, he opened one eye slowly to glance at the intruder. The figure was standing at the end of his bed staring down at him.
"Ron? I know you’re awake."
Shit.
"Ron. Open your eyes."
Knowing he was caught, Ron opened his eyes and reluctantly lifted himself up onto his elbows.
"That’s better. I know why you didn’t come over to see me. I saw the look on your face when you came down the stairs. You regret what happened last time and you don’t want it to happen again. I understand..."
Oliver lowered his head and shuffled his left foot forward nervously. "It is a pity though. I really would’ve liked you to shag me tonight."
Oliver raised his head and winked as he turned around and walked towards the door before Ron could reply.
Ron threw back his blankets and leapt over a pile of clothes in order to stop him. He might be embarrassed but was damned if he was going to miss this opportunity. He jumped in front of him just beyond the doorway and roughly span him around. Feeling something inside him snap, he demanded Oliver to return to his room.
Oliver grinned. "Yes Master."
The door slammed behind them. Complete privacy.