Knowing

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry blurted in response. He had attempted to yell, but his throat constricted instead, and his voice sounded tight and anxious. "Ron and Roger never had that kind of…of…attachment!"

"Well," Mike replied stubbornly, "Roger reminds him of you, and Ron can't have you."

"Reminds him of me?" Harry practically snarled.

Mike shrugged. "Yeah. But…anyway…just thought you should know. Ron's under Roger's thumb now. So I highly doubt you'll be winning any matches against Ravenclaw for a while."

“Ron would never throw a match for a guy,” Harry growled in response. "What else did Roger say to you?"

"That was it. He bragged about how he'd finally shagged Ron, said that Ron was his boyfriend now, and that I'd better not touch him again. That they were both done with me. I tried talking to Ron this morning about it but…he's at Roger's side 24/7 now." Mike paused, taking a deep, irritated breath. "But…we both know that Ron probably has Roger wrapped around his finger, too. He's good at that."

"But why?" Harry spat.

"Oh, come on," Mike replied, his eyes narrowed, "He's doing it to piss you off, Harry. He knows how much you hate the guy."

"That can't be the only reason.”

"It's the only one I can think of." Mike's jaw clenched. "So…just figured I should tell you before you went to breakfast and saw them." He glanced over his shoulder down to the entrance hall. "Roger will be parading him around like a trophy."

Harry could only hear one word reverberating around in his mind. No.

No.

"Not for long," he muttered, breezing away from Mike. He marched down the steps and into the flood of students. He looked around, eyes gliding past his girlfriend and Hermione. Past the twins. Over to the sea of blue.

Then he could see them, practically in the very center of the spacious room. Roger had his arm over Ron's shoulders, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Smug etched in every feature. Roger Davies was certainly a good-looking guy. He was taller than Ron, more muscular than him. A demeanor that demanded respect, but in a threatening way. In some ways, Roger reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy. Demanding respect yet not necessarily going to give any in return.

Ron caught Harry's eye, and they glowered at each other. Sensing Ron's sudden loss of interest in whatever he was saying to his friends  -Cho Chang included- Roger's hand tightened on Ron's shoulder.

Not caring one bit about what the stupid Ravenclaw would say, Harry marched up to them. A couple seventh year Ravenclaw boys snickered, amused, and Cho simply looked on.

"The hell are you doing?" Harry snapped at his best friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ron simpered, stepping out of his boyfriends arm, "Am I supposed to ask your permission on who I should date?"

Roger smirked, folding his arms over his chest.

"No, Ron," Harry replied harshly, "But…"

He couldn't finish this statement. He couldn't say anything to Ron as to why he did not want him to date the Ravenclaw. Nothing that wouldn't out himself, nothing that wouldn't out them as having a sexual, flirtatious relationship alongside their friendship.

"But, what?" Ron asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. "I know you have a thing for control, Harry, but…" he let his sentence trail off, not looking Harry in the eye as he picked a piece of invisible lint off his sleeve.

"But you're a fucking piece of garbage!" a voice exclaimed from behind Harry. Someone shoved past him. Mike. He pointed  shaking finger in Ron's face. "You don't give a damn about who you hurt! You just go around wrecking relationships and-"

"Hey!" Roger snapped, stepping between Ron and Mike. He held his hand out protectively in front of Ron so fiercely that it made Ron stumble back. He regained his footing quickly. "Knock it off, Mike. You don't have a say here, either."

"The fuck I don't!" Mike shouted in his face. "When the hell did you two have anything together anyway? You just fucking rode in on your high horse and said 'Ron is my boyfriend' out of fucking nowhere! You're such an ass, Roger! And so is Ron!"

"Jesus, Mike," Roger said, almost in disgust, "It's not like you didn't do the same damn thing to Cho, right?" He glanced at Cho, who's eyes widened, not wanting to be brought into this at all. "And why do you think Ron and I didn't have anything? Just because you don't see something with your own two eyes doesn't mean it wasn't happening. I was the one who told him to keep it quiet. And I did that because I knew you would react like this."

"You're such an asshole," Mike snarled quietly but severely.  

Everyone was watching now. Ron remained standing behind Roger, but he was looking at Harry, not Mike. He looked…pleased. Pleased that he had created such a mess. Again. Destroying not just Mike's feelings, but Harry's as well.

It was as if he'd done this, became Roger's boyfriend overnight, to force the issue between them. To say to Harry 'this is what I will do until you do what I want.'

"Mike," Harry said quietly, grabbing his arm, "Let's not do this here."

"Piss off," Mike hissed, yanking his arm away. He angrily stormed away.

Now it was just Roger standing between Harry and Ron. Harry was shaking. But what could he do? He couldn't very well tell Ron he couldn't date the Ravenclaw. He couldn't yell at him. He had no good reason that he could say in public why the two shouldn't be together.

But what was Roger's angle? Why had Roger suddenly staked a claim on Ron? Was it for one of the only reasons Mike had? Because Roger enjoyed controlling people? Because Ron enjoyed being controlled? Because Ron wanted to hurt Harry and actually be someone's boyfriend?

So Harry looked Ron hard in the eye.

"Okay.”

The retelling of Michael Corner's meltdown spread quickly through the castle. A lot of people were confused, having thought that Ron and Mike were actually a couple. Girls seemed upset that Roger Davie's was off the market. There were murmurings that both girls and boys were upset that Ron was off the market. Harry wasn't sure why the girls were, as it was noticeably clear that Ron was 100% into blokes.

And there were quite a few people that seemed stunned that Roger Davies was bisexual. Harry was shocked that the fact that he and Lee Jordan had had a few flings was not common knowledge.

Surprisingly to Harry…Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott were caught most of the day in a tight cluster, whispering stiffly with each other, with a lot of animosity between Theo and Blaise. If any of them were apart from their trio, it was Blaise walking down to the dungeons or coming from the dungeons with a disgusted sneer on his face.

Harry was so unfocused the entire day that everything seemed like a blur.

Ron did not attend any of his classes.

When Ginny spoke to him, Harry barely heard her.

Harry felt like he was underwater all the way through dinner. By then, he had gone back to his dorm and shoved his map and cloak into his bag and planned to use them the next time he saw Roger and Ron walking off together.

Thankfully, this was right after dinner. Harry saw them rise from the Ravenclaw table and walk off together toward the front doors. Without a word Harry popped up and followed them, not caring who saw, since the moment he got through the doors he tossed the cloak on.

Harry followed them quietly, only walking when they walked. They were headed toward the quidditch pitch.

"I can't have you causing all this drama, Ron," Roger was saying as they walked onto the field, "That wasn't part of the deal."

"That wasn’t my fault," Ron argued, looking up at him, "I didn't say anything to Mike."

"Well you could have ended it," Roger said simply, he didn’t sound angry, only authoritative. They were next to the stairs that led to the professors box. Roger grabbed Ron by the waist and pushed him against one of the enormous wooden pillars. One of his strong hands gently grabbed Ron's throat. "You want to be a perfect little trophy boyfriend for me, yes?"

His tone had gone playful, and Ron looked relieved. He smirked slowly. "You know I do," he said, placing one of his hands on Roger's arm.

"Good," Roger murmured, he released his gentle grip to grab Ron's chin, "Good boy."

Harry's jaw clenched so tightly it popped. Only he could say that to Ron.

His best friends hand was now reaching inside Roger's robes, into the inner pocket. Roger chuckled as Ron pulled out a large hipflask. "That's right," he whispered, "I know what you want." He chuckled as Ron twisted the cap off and took a swig. Surprisingly, Roger gave him an appeasing smile. He then reached into a different pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with pink liquid. "And this?" he asked quietly. Ron eyed him playfully with the flask still at his lips.

"Maybe," he replied slowly, and took another sip, "Anything else?"

"Greedy," Roger said, shaking his head, but he placed the small pink vial into his pocket, and pulled out another one. This one was filled with purple liquid. "You looking for this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron nodded, and Roger looked concerned.

"I shouldn't have talked Pomfrey into letting you leave so soon," he said with a sigh, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Ron replied, "I'm glad you did." He took another drink from the flask and then recapped it. Roger took it from him. Ron reached for the vial.

"Ah ah ah," Roger chuckled, holding it out of his reach, "You're still technically my boyfriend. You owe me." Ron smiled as Roger leaned down to kiss him deeply. For a few seconds, their mouths moved together with ease, both smiling breathlessly when they parted.

After Ron poured the contents of the vial into his mouth, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly in relief. After what Harry had heard, he wondered if this was some sort of elixir for pain. How on earth had Roger acquired it?

"Better?" the Ravenclaw asked quietly, taking Ron's hands. Harry had to admit he was somewhat shocked at how gentle Roger was with Ron. For some reason, he'd expected Roger to be a bit more…aggressive.

And what was this "deal" they were talking about? A trophy boyfriend?

"A little," Ron replied with a shrug. He reached back into Roger's robes for the flask.

“You know,” Roger said, not reacting to this action. It seemed this was something common. Was this why Ron never mentioned Roger? Because Roger was the one who kept him drunk?  “You should just tell me. About the stairs.”

Surprisingly, Ron suddenly looked irritated. “I never said I would. That wasn’t a part of anything.”

"Alright, alright…you should, though. One of these days. If it was an accident, or…” the Ravenclaw trailed off with a sigh.  

The pair began walking up the wooden stairs. Harry followed, keeping his steps light. The two went back to the farthest stands. Roger took the flask from Ron and drank from it, then put it to Ron's lips and poured some into his mouth.

"Now," he said quietly, setting the flask onto a bench, "You know what I need from you, yes?" His hands went to Ron's hips, and he backed him against the wall. "Be your gorgeous self, be quiet. Behave. Physical favors. No more drama. No hooking up with anyone else unless-“

"I know," Ron interrupted with a whisper, “And…?”

"And I'll give you what you want," Roger replied, putting a hand on the side of Ron's face, "And what you need." He leaned forward and kissed him deeply once more. When he tried to pull away, Ron's hands looped around the back of his neck and kept him in place.

Harry felt completely flabbergasted. This was the deal? Roger just wanted a cute guy on his hip to show off, and in turn he gave Ron…alcohol? Elixirs? What had the pink one been, anyway? And no hooking up with anyone else unless…what? Harry wished Ron hadn’t interrupted. What the hell was going on here?

"You really are gorgeous," Roger was panting after a couple excruciating moments. But Harry couldn't stop watching. He needed something to go off of. He needed to know that if all the Ravenclaw was doing to keep Ron plastered to his side was booze and potions, that Harry could easily take him away. But what was the true underlying factor here?

"So are you," Ron was whispering, then he fell quiet.

"What?" Roger asked him, leaning back to grab the flask.

"I just…I feel bad…about…about Mike," Ron murmured. Whatever look Roger was giving him  -Harry couldn't see- was making Ron nervous. "I mean, we knew he'd be upset, I didn't know he'd be that upset."

"You made a lot of people upset, Ron," Roger replied. He paused to take a dreg, then pressed the flask into Ron's hands. "You don't even know how sought after you are, do you? Every out of the closet guy in this castle looked absolutely livid. They all thought they had a chance, but none of them wanted to go through Potter to get to you."

"Harry and I never-" Ron started, but Roger scoffed and curled his hand around Ron's to lift the flask to his lips and shut him up. Ron rolled his eyes but swallowed everything Roger poured into his mouth.

"No one cares," Roger said in a low voice, "No one cares if you and Potter did anything. But everyone knows he has this barrier around you. Everyone thinks that's why you haven't had one real relationship this year."

They did?

"I know.”

"But now you're mine," Roger said firmly, "So…it's time to start acting like it." When Ron's lips curved into a smile, the Ravenclaw chuckled. "You are such a sub." He kissed Ron on the forehead. "I love it." He grasped Ron by the arms and moved him so that he was now back against the wall and Ron faced him. "Now, love…time to be good for me."

"I can do that," Ron replied with a light laugh, lowering to his knees.

Harry's heart and stomach simultaneously clenched. Roger looked down at Ron with a smirk as he unzipped his pants, then ran a hand through his hair before clutching it tightly and tilting his head back.

"Cutie," he murmured, "My own personal little slag."

"Only yours," Ron whispered back giddily, tugging the Ravenclaws pants down.

Harry had to turn away. He found himself wanting to watch. But he couldn't. He heard the wet noises, the groaning, and…unfortunately, the slight choking and gagging. Those noises made the bottom of Harry's gut tingle. His brain was burning with images of Ron on his knee's in front of him. Choking on his cock.

Then there was a chuckle, and Roger's voice saying quietly,

"I didn't give you permission to do that."

Harry turned around. Ron was still on his knees, panting heavily. He couldn't see what Ron had done, but Roger looked breathless but amused.

"Sorry," Ron gasped out, "But-"

"No," Roger said, shaking his head, "I would have said yes if you asked first. Think about that next time." Ron let out a huff of despair, but let his boyfriend guide his head back forward. "Fuck…" he breathed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again and looked down at Ron's slowly bobbing head he smirked. "Knowing you, you could probably cum without touching yourself anyway."

Only a minute later Roger swore sharply, holding Ron firmly in place with a hand on the back of his head. A few moments later he let go, and Ron sat back on his legs gasping.

"Fucking hell," Roger sputtered, "Good boy." He pulled up his pants and zipped them, then reached a hand out to Ron, who got to his feet, awkwardly adjusting his own pants. "Did you actually cum?" Roger asked him with a light chuckle.

"Shut up," Ron replied under his breath.

Roger pulled Ron into him with one sharp yank. "I love it," he whispered, "My precious cockslut." He grabbed Ron's chin and pulled him into a soft kiss. "Such a good boy. My good boy."

"Mm," Ron hummed happily. He looked at Roger through his thick lashes, seeming to be waiting for something.

"Go ahead," Roger said with a nod. When Ron turned away to grab the flask from the wooden bench, Roger ran both of his hands through his hair, taking a shaking breath. He watched Ron take a few long drinks from the flask with a faint smirk on his lips. "Ron," he said, his tone curious. Ron looked at him. "Are you happy?"

"Right now?" Ron asked him, cocking his head, "I dunno."

"No," Roger replied, stepping toward him, "I mean in general. Are you happy?"

"I dunno," Ron repeated, taking another drink, "I don't think about it. Why?" His words and movements already seemed loser.

Harry found this interaction odd. Wasn't Ron a typically happy person? He had always thought so.

Roger stared in silence for a moment. Ron blinked at him, taking another drink. Then he asked, "Does it matter?" This time, Roger shrugged. Ron took a small step toward him. "Roger…I'm never going to look, like, miserable around you or anything. I'm good at covering up my emotions. Plus I do like you. I like being around you." He gave him a sheepish smile that even Harry couldn’t determine was real or not. “I like doing things for you…” when Ron reached out a grabbed the front of his shirt flirtatiously, Harry knew he’d defaulted to using his sexuality to deter a conversation he didn’t want to have.

"Hey," Roger said softly, not buying it, reaching a hand out and putting it on Ron's shoulder, "That's not what I was talking about. I was just curious." He smiled. "I know you're in a lot of pain. I've known that for a while. I want to help. There's only so much I can do, though. There’s only so much I can do as long as you listen to me, and do what I say."

"I know," Ron said quickly, "You do help, really. You're one of the only people I'm actually relaxed around. I don't have to guess around you. Like, I don't have to guess what you want from me because I already know what you want from me. And it's all stuff I can do. It's easy to be around you."

"Good," Roger replied, "I'm glad." He pulled Ron into a hug, taking a drink from the flask over Ron's shoulder. They stepped away from each other. "Here," Roger said, "Finish it."

As Ron did so, he sat down on the bench, looking up at the Ravenclaw. Then he held the flask between his knees with both hands. "Um…" he said in a tight voice, then seemed lost for words and looked down.

"What?" Roger asked, sitting next to him.

"I just…I was…I was wondering…if, um…" Ron stammered on each word.

"Ron, what?"

"Could I…ask you for something?" Ron finally asked, his voice shaking, "Not…not something physical or like…other potions or anything…just…" he sighed heavily, "It's going to sound really pathetic. You don't have to say yes if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand nervously.

"I can't say yes until you tell me what it is," Roger replied, tilting his head, "Ron…just ask. This whole thing has to be fifty-fifty for it to work. You tell me what you want or need, and we adjust accordingly. You know that."

"Yeah," Ron replied, and the shaking in his voice turned into somewhat of a tremble, "I was just wondering, if…if you could tell me that you love me." He swallowed hard, not looking the Ravenclaw in the eye. "You don't have to mean it, because I know you don't. I just…want to hear the words. That's all. Just the words, occasionally." He spoke so quickly and quietly that Harry hardly understood what he was asking. But when he did, and his brain caught up, he felt his heart crack into many small pieces.

Ron didn't even care if Roger loved him. All he wanted was to hear it. How little did his best friend hear those words? Harry told him fairly often that he loved him. At least, he thought he did. Didn’t anyone else?

Roger was staring at Ron unwaveringly. His expression was not of shock, or disgust, or amusement. He actually looked concerned more than anything. He reached out to Ron's face, placing a hand on the side of it, and his thumb wiped away a tear Harry hadn't even noticed.

"Breathe," he whispered gently. When Ron exhaled, Roger smiled at him. "Yeah, Ron. Of course I can do that. I care about you a lot, and if that's something that will make you feel good, then of course I can do that." He moved his hand, a thoughtful look on his face, but there was also some guilt there that Ron did not seem to pick up on. Then he spoke again. "Just…think of it as my way of saying I see you, and I care about you. Because regardless of this being a real relationship or not, I do care about you."

When Harry returned to the castle after carefully following his best friend and his fake boyfriends steps down the stairs, he went straight to his dorm and fell into his bed. He felt more confused than ever.

"Not so happy about Roger Davies, are you?" Seamus asked him from Dean's bed.

"I don't care," Harry snapped, sitting up and aggressively removing his jacket.

"Oh, you so do," Dean snorted, "It's okay. You're not alone. All year people have been drooling over Ron, but no one thought they could have him. Even the blokes he hooked up with never had the balls to actually ask him out. Well…the one’s who wanted more than sex."

"Yeah," Harry grumbled, "I heard."

"I never knew Davies liked blokes," Seamus said thoughtfully, "I was shocked enough by Zabini…but Roger Davies?"

"Man could have anyone he wants," Dean said with a scoff, turning to a new page in his sketchbook.

"Zabini?" Harry interrupted, thinking back to how he had seen the Slytherin walking the castle alone, not attached to Malfoy's hip along with Nott. "He's into blokes?"

"Oh, yeah," Seamus said affirmatively with a nod, "Of course he is. Could you ever actually picture him with a girl? He wants a bloke he can push around. Gives him a better feeling of power."

"How do you know?" Dean asked, eyebrows quickly knitting.

"Justin told me," Seamus replied, sliding off the bed and walking to his trunk, "Last year when you and I were on that break, and you were getting with-"

"Don't say it out loud," Dean snapped wildly.

"Right, sorry." Seamus procured a bottle of Firewhisky. So like Ron. "Anyway," he said, uncorking it, "He said he'd gotten it on with Zabini a few times. Which was a bit of a shock. Justin is such a top. But he said Zabini was…" he cocked his head, "The words he used was 'dark' and 'intense.'"

Harry let out a sigh. Why couldn't he just have Ron? Why couldn't he just do what he needed to do, and break up with Ginny, and grab Ron and just-

"So when are you going to join the club?" Seamus asked, interrupting Harry's thoughts and handing him the maroon bottle.

"Excuse me?" Harry replied, taking the bottle.

"Come on," Dean said with a snort, "We know you want Ron. Stop lying to yourself."

"That doesn't mean I'm gay," Harry snapped, "I just…" but he couldn't say it out loud. There was no use. He knew. They knew. They knew he knew, and they knew that he knew that they knew.

Instead, Harry just took several swigs from the bottle before handing it back to Seamus. He coughed as the liquid burned his throat, and wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth. As he did, the door opened, and Ron walked in.

He looked hesitant.

Thankfully, Seamus decided to just get right to it.

"Ronniekins," he said lightly, "Do tell…how did you bag a guy like Davies?"

Ron dropped his bookbag onto his bed and shrugged out of his robes. "Dunno," he said, and a faint smile made its way to his mouth, "He just…asked. I said yes."

Liar.

"What about Mike?" Harry asked with no emotion in his tone.

"What about Mike?" Ron replied witheringly, "I was never going to date him. We all knew that. Hell, he knew that!"

"When you were unconscious," Harry said, getting to his feet, "Mike was at your side the whole time. He told me that he wanted to date you. He had feelings for you, Ron. Strong feelings."

"So?" Ron retorted sharply, "I can't control his feelings, Harry. I never promised him a relationship. I never told him to break up with Cho. I never, ever told him there was any chance of a relationship between us. It doesn't matter if he felt that way because I didn't. My feelings matter too! I didn't like him like that!"

Harry couldn't respond. Not with anything that was true. If he argued back, it would all be nonsense.

"Why don't you two just calm down?" Seamus asked, sounding annoyed, "Ron's dating Roger Davies. Harry's just looking out for you. Can we move past it?"

Harry wasn't sure why Seamus had said that. Possibly just to diffuse the situation. It was somewhat true. But only slightly. He could tell Ron didn't believe Seamus. But in the end, they both just decided to let the topic drop. Harry couldn't say anything about Ron and Roger's "deal" without admitting that he'd followed them.

Ron exhaled sharply and took the bottle from Dean who had just taken a drink from it.

"Ron…" Harry said slowly.

"What?" Ron asked witheringly. His eyes were glassy as he looked at him.

"I…" but even this Harry couldn't talk about. He wanted to tell Ron maybe he shouldn't drink more. But he wasn't supposed to know that Ron had already been drinking. "Nothing. I'm sorry. If it's Roger Davies you want, then…I'll back off."

Ron blinked at him while he drank from the bottle. When he lowered it, there was a sadness in his eyes. The twinkle that was usually there seemed to have dimmed. He ended up nodding, and said 'Thank you' in a small voice.

Eventually, they all just sat and chatted. Harry was actually glad for the alcohol, it helped diffuse his racing thoughts. And when they had finished it, Ron was smiling yet avoiding Harry's gaze, which was driving him mad. Ron probably knew it.

Seamus and Dean pulled the curtains around Dean's bed, and there were small, wet noises as they started snogging. Then there were soft whispers and rustling as clothes were removed. Harry looked at his best friend, who finally looked back. He smiled sheepishly.

"Just get over here," Harry whispered as he removed his pants and shirt and then crawled under his covers.

Ron wordlessly stripped down to his boxers as well. He slowly climbed into Harry's bed and got under the blanket. When he rested his head on the pillow and they laid on their sides facing each other, Ron spoke first.

"I didn't do it to hurt you."

"Well…" Harry murmured, "You got together with him right after we argued. What was I supposed to think?"

"That I gave up on you," Ron replied, dropping his unsteady gaze. "We're never going to be together, Harry. You kept shoving me aside any time you started to feel guilty." He was speaking slowly, with miniscule pauses between his words. He was drunk.

"Yeah," Harry said softly, deflating. He knew he was on the verge of being somewhat intoxicated himself. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I can't wait for you forever," Ron whispered, his voice cracking on ‘forever’, "I want to, but…it's never going to happen, is it?"

"I don't know," Harry replied with a sigh, "But…if this is what you want, then I'm not going to get in the way."

"I don't know what I want anymore," Ron said, "I know that I want you, but…now that I know it won't happen…I don't know. When Roger asked…my mind was just blank."

Harry scratched his nose, not believing. But he could not say a word.

"I'll be ready one day," he finally replied, "I just don't know when." It had to be before Ron was in too deep with Roger. He knew what he needed to do, but…could he cross that line now? If he did, it would only hurt Ron.

But his insides were vibrating at such a high frequency right now. Ron was so close. So close. In his bed. Under his blanket. In their silence they could hear quiet groaning from Deans bed. Gasps. Whimpering. It was stirring something deep in Harry's gut. He couldn't pull away from Ron's gaze.

"You are ready," his best friend said in a hushed tone, "You're just scared."

"I'm not scared," Harry lied with a scoff, "There's just…too many people that would get hurt."

Ron's eyes suddenly twinkled again, and a tiny warning bell chimed in Harry's mind. Ron was about to play with him. He could sense it. The energy in the air shifted.

"We don't have to date right away, you know," Ron said, and his hand found Harry's under the covers, "You could just…" he pulled their hands out from the covers, and he kissed Harry's fingers, sending chills down his spine, "Use me." He then guided Harry's hand down, back under the covers. "Play with me." He trailed Harry's hand down his chest, and toned abdomen, right down to his waistband. "No one has to know."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Harry couldn't breathe. Oxygen simply sat inside his lungs and throat. Tight. Ron smiled at him devilishly.

"I know you want to," he whispered, letting go of Harry's wrist. He scooted himself closer, which caused Harry's hand to move lower, almost gliding over his best friends intrigued, and hardening member. "Right?" It was one of the only times Harry just let Ron talk. He was letting Ron convince him. He was letting Ron tell him it was okay.

I know you're in pain. Roger's earlier words echoed in Harry's minds.

Tell me you love me. I don't care if you don't. And Ron's heartbreaking pleas.

Ron was with Roger because Roger laid out simple expectations. Be pretty. Be quiet. Give me sex. They were all things Ron understood, and he got Roger's attention in response. He had someone that would feed him his wants and needs, regardless of how they actually felt.

Harry needed it to stop. He decided, right in that moment, that he couldn't let Ron be with someone like that. Someone who just kept his best friend drunk in return for a blowjob. Pain elixirs for looking good. Attention for attention.

"Ron…" Harry whispered, his tone sounded so salacious to his own ears, "I love you."

For one quick moment, Ron froze. But then he smirked. "I know."

Harry now moved very quickly, finally, finally unable to stop himself, pushed himself up. "Good," he growled. Then he swung a leg over Ron's waist and straddled him.

And finally…he bent down and pressed his lips against his best friends.

His heart nearly exploded. Ron gasped against his mouth, apparently shocked, but then his arms linked under Harry's and his hands grasped the back of his shoulders, desperately keeping himself in place.

"Don't stop," he pleaded, his demeanor completely shifting from flirtatious and playful to aching desperation. "Don't stop," he repeated anxiously, raising his hips to push against Harry’s.  

"I don't plan on it," Harry replied, his voice low. He went back to devouring his best friends mouth, his tongue prodding into every crevice. Tasting the Firewhisky. Tasting him. Breathing his air.

Ron was the first one to pull away, but only to put his lips on Harry's neck. The sensation went straight to Harry's cock, engaging it like he'd flipped a switch. "Fuck," he groaned, trying to be quiet. But he found himself truly not even caring if his dormmates heard or not. They’d keep the secret.

His best friend bit down hard in response, sucking hard at the skin between his neck and shoulder. Harry knew it was leaving a mark, but in the fog of heated desire and booze, he did not care. But now he was impatient. Harry moved his hand to Ron's throat and pushed him down hard back onto the pillow.

They locked eyes, saying so much yet saying nothing at all.

"Don't stop," Ron pleaded again. There was nothing but desperation in his eyes. It was so. Very. Clear. Clear that he needed Harry.

Harry needed him.

"I'm not," Harry said gruffly, "Not even if you beg." His body knew exactly what he wanted to do. He had slept with Cho last year, more times than he’d like to admit, and he'd also gone all the way with Ginny, which they'd never told Ron. But it had been so, so boring. Ron was not boring. His body radiated with need. He wanted to be clutched. Grabbed. He wanted something hard. He wanted to feel everything Harry had to give.

He watched Ron's chest rise and fall with his ragged breathing.

"Fuck," Harry growled, and his grip tightened around his best friends throat, "You're so fucking beautiful."

Ron smiled, biting his lip. He did not say a word. However, he pushed through Harry's grip around his neck and sat up on his elbows. Once he was stable, he brought his hand to the waistband of Harry's boxers and tugged them down, smirking as his cock sprung out, resting against his stomach.

"Oh," he said quietly. Harry knew he was fairly well-endowed, but with Ron eyeing his cock with slight apprehension, it made him feel even bigger.

"Oh, come on," Harry chuckled, amused, "You've seen it before." It was true, they had seen each other naked plenty of times.

"Not hard," Ron replied. But without hesitation he leaned forward, his tongue out, and dragged it from the base to the head, licking the precum leaking from the tip. All with his eyes burning into Harry’s.

"Fucking hell…" Harry groaned under his breath, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Then his breath hitched in his throat as his cock was now completely engulfed in his best friends hot, wet mouth. He risked cumming too soon just so he could look down at Ron, who's blue eyes were gazing back up at him mischievously.

Harry's next exhale came out as a breathy chuckle. His mind was swirling with pleasure and slight drunkenness, and he was loving every moment of it. The alcohol made him feel braver than he ever had and completely guilt free. He ran a hand through Ron's silky, wavy red hair and gripped it tightly. "You can do better than that," he said, his tone husky.

Ron backed off to smirk at him. "Obviously," he whispered, stroking Harry's cock as he spoke, "I just didn't know if you could handle it."

Harry couldn't help narrowing his eyes. His hand, still in his best friends hair, yanked his head back harshly, he could hear a small crack. Ron simply deepened his smirk and looked amused. "I thought you were a good boy," Harry hissed, raising an eyebrow.

This seemed to cause Ron to malfunction. He hesitated, his smirk fading, clearly trying to figure out which angle he wanted to play now. But then his smirk came back. "I guess not," he retorted.

Something sizzled in Harry's mind. He scoffed, and yanked Ron back forward. His best friend instantly parted his lips and took Harry's cock back in his mouth. Harry forced him even more forward, and chuckled when he felt the head of his cock go down the back of Ron's throat, and listened to him choke.

"Better," Harry said lightly. He blew out a huff of air, trying ridiculously hard to stay focused. He was pleasantly surprised at how well Ron could actually take the aggressive force of Harry's slow thrusting, not allowing him to relax his mouth just yet.

After a few more moments, Harry let go of his best friends hair, letting him back off. Ron fell back on the pillow, his chest rising high as he caught his breath. Harry had to hand it to him, Ron's smirk did not falter, even through his swollen, wet lips.

Harry pulled his underwear back up, and slid back down to Ron's hips, leaning down to kiss him. Slowly this time. Ron sighed happily against his lips, putting a hand on the side of Harry's face.

They got lost in the kiss. The passion. The relief they both felt at finally crossing the line. It occurred to Harry that they had actually not kissed on the stairs for the first time. In this realization, he also wondered if that was a bad omen.

Ron parted from him. "I love you," he said breathlessly, looking deep into Harry's eyes.

For one faltering second, Harry paused. But only because Ron saying this made him feel like a terrible person. However, he quickly replied, "I love you."

He moved past the moment and pressed his lips against Ron's neck. Then his shoulder. Then his chest. He could feel Ron positively trembling underneath him. Harry kissed him in the hollow between his ribs, and then just above his bellybutton. And as he lightly pressed his lips below Ron's bellybutton, he felt him go tense. Ignoring it for the moment, Harry tugged down his best friends waistband and kissed him there as well.

He simply wanted to kiss Ron everywhere. He wanted to put himself all over Ron's body. Harry sat up just enough to pull his best friends boxers down off his legs, removing his own as well. As he leaned back down to kiss Ron's tight abdomen again, Ron went tense once more.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ron whispered quickly, "I just don't…" he looked nervous.

"What?" Harry asked curiously, his thumbs rubbing circles into Ron's hips.

"I don't like being…being…pleased that way," Ron stammered shakily.

"Oh," Harry replied, only mildly surprised. He slid back up, back to straddling Ron's waist. "That's okay."

"Really?" Ron asked him. Then he gasped and bit his lip as Harry firmly wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked it.

"Really," Harry responded with a smirk, "I can make you cum in other ways." He continued to stroke his best friends cock. He was surprised at how comfortable and not strange it was. It was like touching himself, but so much better. The feeling of pleasuring someone else was so erotic. Now past the moment of Ron expressing something he did not like, he was back to smiling at Harry in a mischievous way.

"Get my wand and silence the curtains," Harry told him bossily. Ron reached under the pillow where the wand was and did so, making small noises in response to Harry's motions on his rock-solid cock. "I'm sure you are very noisy."

"Only when you know what you're doing," Ron quipped, closing his eyes and bowing his back into the pleasure. Still a brat even while getting exactly what he wanted.

Harry released his grip, and Ron opened his eyes just as Harry gripped his hips tightly, rising up just enough to gruffly flip Ron onto his stomach. He leaned down. "Ready for me to be inside you?" he murmured into his ear.

"Only forever," Ron replied, clutching the pillow with his hands. Harry could hear his smirk. "Didn't know I had to wait this long."

Harry scoffed. He reached around to grab Ron by the throat, laughing lightly as he heard Ron's last breath leave his lungs. "Stop being a fucking brat," Harry growled, "Do I just need to fuck it out of you? Hm?" He let go of his best friends throat to shove his fingers into his mouth. When he withdrew them Ron gasped for air.

"You can try," he taunted.

"Shut up," Harry snapped, leaning up. He gripped Ron's waist with one hand and brought his other hand to his perfectly shaped ass.

"Make me," Ron huffed. Then he let out a gasp when Harry pressed a finger inside him.

"Like this?" Harry chuckled, forcing another one in. Ron trembled underneath him, whimpering and panting, completely falling apart just with Harry's fingers penetrating him. "Yeah, I think that did it." He worked his fingers for a few more seconds, enjoying the quiet noises his best friend was making. But no words escaped his lips. "Nothing?" Harry teased. He could hear Ron swearing under his breath. He slowly withdrew his fingers, now angling his impatient cock at the prepared entrance. "I bet you're ready to be a good boy now."

Though Ron had folded his arms over the pillow and rested his forehead on them, Harry could hear his impatient huff that came with a curse word.

He decided to let it slide, being impatient himself. Slowly he guided himself in, which proved to be surprisingly difficult. "Fucking hell," he groaned, gripping Ron's hips with both hands now, "Are you always this tight?" As it turned out, Ron was now completely nonverbal, only focusing on the sensations. "Jesus…"

When he was finally all the way in, he had to pause, breathing heavily. It was an immaculate feeling. A feeling he'd been aching for for several weeks. A feeling he had needed and wanted so badly. It was completely worth it. He slid his hands up Ron's back slowly, and then back down to his hips.

"Holy shit," Harry groaned as he began slowly thrusting. Honestly, he could have cum right in that moment, but he stubbornly refused to do so. He wanted to make Ron cum first. And if Ron could cum simply by pleasuring someone with his mouth, Harry knew the task would be quite easy.

As soon as he'd started to move, he was glad he had made Ron silence the curtains. His best friend certainly could not keep quiet. His moans, and whimpering, and swearing flowed freely from his mouth, even when he moved his arms to bury his face into the pillow to try and muffle his volume. Harry chuckled through his panting.

"You take it so well," he said, feeding into his best friends need for approval, "I'm sure you can handle it harder, yes?" The only response he received was another impatient moan. Harry picked up the pace of his thrusting, and Ron got louder.

Harry needed Ron closer. He needed to feel him more. He paused briefly in his movements to reach down and wrap his arms around Ron's chest, aggressively pulling him up so Ron was nearly sitting in his lap.

"Fuck," Ron suddenly gasped, his body going tense for a fraction of a second.

"Okay?" Harry asked quietly. Ron nodded, and his hips rocked, working with Harry's motions. "I thought so." He kept one hand gripping Ron's waist forcefully and moved his other to Ron's throat. He could feel the strain of Ron's moans and whimpers trying to escape. "Not so tough now, hm?" Harry taunted, keeping his head next to Ron's. He could see his best friends cock leaking with precum, aching for release. "Why don't you just cum, love? Don't be stubborn, baby. Cum for me."

Clearly that was all Ron needed to hear. Not even two seconds after hearing Harry's words, thick ropes of cum covered Ron's stomach. Harry released his throat, and Ron let out gasping whimpers, his orgasm not stopping as Harry continued to thrust up into him until he could not contain his own any longer. The throbbing waves of pleasure nearly blinded him.

He carefully pulled himself out, almost having another orgasm as his own cum dripped onto his legs from his best friends spent hole. He let Ron rest against him as he tried to catch his breath. Harry ran his hands up and down his sides slowly. He almost felt bad at how difficult it was for Ron to breathe steadily again.

"Slow down," he murmured gently. He then reached behind himself to grab the shirt he had removed and used it to wipe up their mess. He could finally hear Ron's breathing get slower. Harry maneuvered him back to laying down. He pulled his best friends boxers back up his legs and covered him with the blanket before he pulled up his own. Ron was still shaking, and had his eyes closed with an arm covering his face.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked him softly. He was worried. "Did I hurt you?"

For several seconds Ron did not respond. Then he finally moved his arm and looked at Harry. "No," he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I'm just…overwhelmed."

"Is that a good thing?" Harry asked, smiling slightly.

"Yeah," Ron replied, staying quiet. He smiled back. "Very good thing."

"Good," Harry murmured, "I'm going to get you some water."

"Thanks," Ron said quietly. He seemed to be shivering.

Harry leaned down and kissed him before slipping through the curtains. He grabbed his glass from his nightstand and downed what was left in it.

Then the anxiety and guilt kicked in.

What the hell had he just done?

He'd cheated on Ginny. With her brother. He'd probably just hurt Ron more than he ever had because now where were they going from here? He couldn't very well just start dating Ron out of nowhere. Ron was dating Roger. Was he going to tell him? If he did…how would Roger react?

Probably not well.

"So…" a voice behind Harry said slyly, making him jump, "You two finally did it then?"

Harry whipped around to face Seamus. He narrowed his eyes at his friends smug face.

"You might've silenced the curtains, but we could still see the bed moving," Seamus chuckled, filling his own cup with water. Sweat shone across his chest and forehead, dampening his hair, and somehow defining his chest. He examined Harry's face. "How could you possibly be so uptight when you just shagged your best friend? Was it not good?"

Huffing through his nose, Harry shook his head as he filled his cup. "No…it was amazing. I mean…really amazing. But…I also just cheated on my girlfriend. With her brother."

Seamus chuckled. "Yeah, that's quite the predicament. So…break up with her. Do it tomorrow morning and it won't even count as cheating."

"I can't," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"It would make your life much easier to admit to everyone that you're in love with Ron, Harry," Seamus replied, then he stepped closer and lowered his voice, "Otherwise, after this…you're just going to break his heart. And you know it."

"He doesn't want to date me," Harry lied quietly, "He’s with Davies."

Seamus stared at him in disbelief. Then he shrugged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." He took a sip of water, then gestured his glass to Ron's bed. "Grab another blanket. He's probably cold. Dean always is after getting destroyed like that."

Harry sighed but took Seamus's advice and grabbed the blanket off Ron's bed. He slipped back through the curtains and Ron sat up to take the water from him. He drank it slowly. As he did, Harry saw red marks on either side of his neck from his tight grip.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked him nervously. He could see that Ron's eyes were still glassy and red rimmed from his night-long drinking and wondered how intoxicated he still was. Would he be after being shagged?

Ron handed him the glass, and Harry leaned through the curtain to set it on his nightstand. He laid back down on the pillow, shivering once before getting comfortable. "I'm fine, Harry," he said with a small smile, "I promise."

"Good," Harry sighed, covering him with the second blanket. For a few moments he got lost in Ron's eyes. Then he straddled him again, letting go of his worries to just stay in his and his best friends bubble of desire. Ron folded his arms under his head, smiling up at him. "God," Harry breathed, and he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his best friends lips, "You're amazing. You are seriously amazing.”

"So are you," Ron whispered, sounding tired but giddy.

Harry slid off of him and got under the covers, laying on his side to face him. Ron readjusted to do the same.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm great," Harry replied, "You are…just…wow."

"Yeah?" Ron chuckled, grabbing Harry's hand under the blanket. “You just think that because I sucked your cock.”

“No,” Harry chuckled, “I mean…it helped. But…no, Ron. I mean it.”

“So…” Ron said softly, “Was this just…drunk sex?”

“It’s what we’ve been wanting for weeks now.”

“So…nothing changes?”

“Hey,” Harry said, trying to sound gentle, “Let’s not get all worked up about that. All I want you to do…” Harry put an arm around Ron’s waist and yanked him close, “…is lay with me, and let me hold you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ron laughed quietly, “But-mmph-“

He was silenced by Harry’s lips. They scooted closer together, not that it was possible to even be closer together, but they continued to press their bodies against each other, desperate to stay close. Harry’s body buzzed with pleasure and delight. Everything with Ron was so easy. So comfortable. So wrong and right all at the same time.

Ron’s hand slide up Harry’s stomach and to his chest. He moved his mouth to Harry’s neck again, biting it and making him inhale sharply.

“You little shit,” Harry moaned softly. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Yes,” Ron whispered, kissing just below his ear, “I do. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I’ll let you answer that,” Harry retorted, turning his head to make Ron pull away.

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” Harry whispered, then he rolled onto his back, willing the blood in his nether regions to go back to the rest of his body. He felt Ron push against him, resting his head on his shoulder and resting his arm across his chest. “Better,” Harry murmured, beginning to close his eyes. He remained awake until he felt his best friends body go heavy, then he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

“Harry!”

Harry turned onto his stomach, groaning and pulling his blanket over his head.

“Harry! You’re gonna want to get up now!”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry grumbled into his pillow. But then he opened his eyes and lifted his head. Where the hell was Ron? Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. His head was spinning, and his body ached. Especially his neck, where Ron had bitten him.

“Last warning,” Seamus spoke up, “Your girlfriend is downstairs waiting for you. Need I remind you that she can come up here without permission?”

“Shit,” Harry said irritably. The last thing he wanted was to see Ginny. Obviously because he didn’t want to feel the guilt that came with it, but also…he had a much stronger desire to see her brother.

He clambered out of bed and stretched. Every muscle protested. But he knelt beside his trunk and pulled out his clothes. As he dressed he could feel Dean and Seamus’s eyes on him. “What?” he asked finally as he was tying his tie unevenly.

“So…” Dean said slowly, and a bit slyly, “How was it?”

“Oh, shut it,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes and then wishing he hadn’t when it caused a severe aching inside his head.

“We’re not judging,” Seamus said, more forceful than his boyfriend in finding out the details, “We are living vicariously through you seeing as we couldn’t exactly finish what we had started with your boyfriend.”

Knowing he would just be met with jeers, Harry bypassed the boyfriend statement. He decided to just answer their question because they wouldn’t have stopped asking anyway.

“It was…” he said slowly, then exhaled as he said, “Amazing. Honestly. He is…is…so…he…” he couldn’t find the word he wanted. Ron was so…malleable, going wherever Harry wanted without complaint. Moving exactly the way Harry wanted him to before he even spoke. Taking everything with ease. Focusing on Harry’s pleasure and using it to get himself off. Like Harry’s pleasure transferred to him and built up his orgasm.

“Subby?” Dean finished with a chuckle.

Harry sighed through his nose, shaking his head. But he couldn’t hide a smile. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess so.”

“Of course he is,” Seamus laughed, he looked over at his boyfriend, “You knew that just from snogging him.”

At that moment, the door opened, and they all quickly snapped their mouths shut as Ginny walked in, looking impatient. “Where have you been?” she asked with a frown, “You were supposed to meet me downstairs at seven.”

“Yeah,” Harry said quickly, yanking on his cloak. He knew the huge mark on his neck was already hidden, but he felt paranoid. “Sorry, slept in a bit.”

Ginny looked around the room. “Where’s Ron?” she asked. Harry immediately wanted to hex himself when he saw his girlfriend see no blanket on her brothers bed, and then when her eyes went to Harry’s bed, noticing two blankets.

She said nothing.

“He left earlier,” Dean jumped in, “To go watch the Ravenclaw practice.”

Harry wondered if this was a lie or not, but he nodded.

As he and Ginny walked down the stairs together, Harry’s heart was pounding so heavily that he would be surprised if Ginny could not hear it. Once they were in the hall, Harry thought he was in the clear. That Ginny would not mention the blankets.

Until she did.