Chapter 11
Silk sheets slid through Draco’s grasp as he fought for something to grip, absolutely loathing everything about the situation in which he found himself and yet—even if he wasn’t already half fucked out of his mind—he didn’t think he had ever wanted anything more in his entire life.
All because he’d skipped one of Weasley’s moronic extra Captain’s practices—a bloke needed his beauty rest, after all—and the git had showed up at his flat to tell him off. One thing had let to another, and—
Behind him, Weasley froze with little more than his tip inside. “Did I say you could stop?”
Gasping, desperate for more of that deep, delicious friction, he tried to remember the next line. “He…always…lets…the—”
Weasley tsked. “You know the rules,” he said. “From the top.”
With a whimper, he started the blasted song over again for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. “Weasley is our king.”
Pleasure coiled through him as Weasley slid back home. His satisfied grunt behind him nearly made Draco come right then and there but he refused to lose. Refused to be the first to break.
He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “Weasley is our king.”
Another deep thrust. “That’s right,” he murmured.
Fuck. Nothing about that should have been that hot and yet… “He didn’t let the Quaffle in—” He’d somehow switched to the asinine Gryffindor version but from the way the thrusts picked up, Ron didn’t seem to mind.
“Weasley is—oh my gods,” he broke off in a desperate moan, barely holding himself off from coming all over the finest sheets money could buy.
“You know,” Ron said behind him, continuing his relentless, punishing, mind-blowing steady pace, “I didn’t think I was going to allow lyric changes but I rather enjoy that one.”
Draco bit down on his lip, fighting off the pleasure building deep inside him.
Ron started to slow and desperation cut through Draco like a knife. “No, Ron, don’t stop,” he gasped. “Please, Ron, please.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Mortification rolled through Draco as realized what he’d said. He panted, close to tears. Had he ruined it? Was he going to leave?
The hands on his hips tightened their grip and Ron began a relentless pace. Each slide of his cock drove him closer and closer to completion.
As if something had finally been unlocked inside of him, desperate babbles fell from Draco’s lips, begging Ron for more. The murmured praises behind him were Draco’s undoing and he came screaming Ron’s name.
Ron followed moments after Draco, filling him with every sharp thrust until he dropped next to him on the bed as they both panted for breath.
Draco curled his knees into his chest and rolled onto his side, feeling strangely vulnerable. Was that it? Was he going to leave? With his warm come still seeping out of Draco?
He felt Ron shift on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut. Begging when Ron was balls-deep inside him was one thing, begging him to stay afterwards was another.
A shudder ran through him as Ron pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Are you going to be on time for Captain’s practice next week?”
Draco swallowed. If getting bent over his bed and fucked within an inch of his life was the alternative…
Ron’s low chuckle sent a shiver through him. “Let me put it this way,” he said. “Be on time for practice and I’ll reward you in the showers after everyone else has gone home. Understood?”
He could only nod, glancing over his shoulder to find bright blue eyes sparkling warmly at him. Ron’s answering smile was all the reward he needed as the other man leaned forward to capture his lips with his own.