Chapter 1
Ron liked Neville just fine, of course. He was a good bloke! A mate through and through. Reliable, down to earth, steady. Sometimes he wondered how someone that meek and stodgy made it into Gryffindor, but then he’d think back to all the times Neville had kicked arse and spoken back, and it made some kind of sense. He didn’t really think of those moments as ‘Neville’ though. It almost felt like someone else had taken over quiet-Neville’s body to do the barmy brave acts.
How could someone so unassuming do… all that?
He began to wonder about the other side of Neville as they joined the Aurors.
Neville? Why was he there? He was meant to be potting plants and doing… whatever it was Neville got up to when he wasn’t tagging along or doing plant stuff. What did Neville get up to? He had no idea, and felt a bit shit about it. They’d never hung out much. When Harry or Hermione weren’t available at Hogwarts, he normally hung about with Seamus and Dean. They were always good for a laugh, and Neville was just off somewhere doing Neville-things.
Now they were both Aurors, and instead of putting Ron and Harry together, Management changed things up and put him with Neville. Figured. They thought Ron wasn’t good enough to be Harry’s partner, most likely.
He and Neville had nothing to talk about after about five minutes, besides any business that needed seeing to. It was so quiet! This was why he never hung out with Neville. He was sort of boring. He wasn’t arguing all the time like Hermione, or being a sarcastic prick like Harry, or laughing it up like Seamus and Dean. He looked over and gave a smile to Ron, a quiet almost apologetic one, then got back to his report.
In the office it was horrible, but whether it was in sparring or in the field taking on escaped Death Eaters, Ron was quickly impressed with Neville. Others were going out of their way to show off or do stupid shit, but Neville? He was still quiet and unassuming- but he fucking did it. He did everything you were supposed to. He might not be the fastest, he might not be the strongest, but he was the most reliable. Solid, that’s what Neville was— and if not for him, Ron was sure he’d have done so pisspoor in his own scores.
“Nice work out there today,” Ron said, giving Neville a nod and heading to his locker.
“Just doing my job.”
He hadn’t just done his job. The two of them had demolished the other teams, thanks to Neville, and were the top pair for the training scenarios each time that day. It continued like this for weeks.
“That was one wicked hit!" "It was thanks to your shield charm."
"Well done, mate!" He’d duck his head and blush. "Same to you.” “Naw, mine was shite- but you? Neville that was unbe-fucking-lievable!”
“That was wicked! Ron crowed, squeezing Neville’s surprisingly hard bicep. Who knew Neville Longbottom had arms like that? "I can’t believe how you nailed that Fitz-bastard to the floor!”
Fitz was a pisspoor Auror and only in their ranks due to Wizengamot nepotism. He was always messing up, showing off, dodging the hard work, and generally making Ron’s life a bit of a nightmare.
“Thanks. But it was mostly because of your plan and fast spell work earlier that led to Fitz getting the snot beat out of him before I did that. Now that was wicked."
After three weeks of it, Ron had little patience.
"For fucksake, Nev!” he bristled in irritation. “Why do you always have to be such a downer? You did well!”
Neville’s cheeks colored. “Sorry… I’m not trying to… Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize! Merlin, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ron bristled, striping off his shirt and getting ready to shower. He glanced up to see Neville biting his lip, looking unsure of what to do or say. He stayed frozen in place and gave that same apologetic smile he always gave.
A deep chest rattling sigh left Ron, and he pressed some knuckles into his brow to relieve the tension there.
“Look… I’m sorry, but just… Neville you’ve got to stop treating yourself like… like you’re not any good. You’re great! I’m happy to have you as my partner. More than! You’ve got to start believing in yourself.”
He expected Neville to smile or something, buoyed up by the admittedly lackluster pep-talk.
He looked up and instead saw a thunderous expression. Ron glanced about to see if Fitz was up to something behind him.
“You’re one to talk,” Neville quietly muttered, striping his own shirt off and throwing it into the locker.
“What?”
“It’s nothing,” he bristled, slamming the locker and heading towards the showers.
“What’s got your wand in a twist? I said I was sorry,” Ron apologized, following him. “Look, I know I’m a real pain to work with sometimes… Okay, probably a lot of the time. I’m a git, but I was just trying to–”
Without warning there was a giant crash as Neville’s closed fist hit the metal lockers with such force a few of the unlocked ones popped open.
Despite his closed angry fists Neville let out a chuckle, shaking his head back and forth.
“The fuck, Nev?"
"You! I just… You’re a real piece of work, Weasley."
Ron squinted at Neville, seeing if there was bruising around his head. Maybe he’d gotten a concussion during the partner duels?
"You’re trying to give me a morale boost about self-worth or whatever, and couldn’t be more hypocritical if you tried,” he mirthlessly laughed. “Do you know how often I try to let you know how great you are?”
Ron stared at him, confused.
“Every time we get done with some exercise or another you act like I’m the one who did everything, but I’m not. You’re great, better than me by a lot, but It doesn’t matter what I say! You’re always telling me how shit you are, or what a git you are, or acting like you didn’t do anything. It’s been driving me mad!”
Ron felt his ears begin to turn red. “I don’t really do that, do I?"
"Every damn time.”
“Well…” Ron began, his anger back. “Well every damn time I try to tell you how brilliant YOU are I get a rebuff. I try to compliment you and you’re all 'Oh no it wasn’t me at all. I basically took a shit on the floor as you did everything! Sorry I exist!’”
Neville’s cheeks turned pink. The blushing men stared at one another.
“I guess we both have some improvement in the self-confidence department.”
“I’d say so…” Ron said with a sheepish grin. He put his hand out. “Let’s agree we’re both the best partners in the world and leave it there?”
“I’ll agree to that,” said Neville, firmly grasping his hand.
_______________________________________________________
After their talk Neville began to loosen up. Ron never would have thought he could laugh and shoot the shit with him so easily.
Every time Ron said something sarcastic or went for a laugh, he found himself looking to see if Neville was laughing. Sure it was nice when the rest of the recruits laughed, but getting Neville to? It was more of a challenge, so that made it all the sweeter.
Neville would sometimes try to keep from smiling, but Ron could see the corners of his lips twitch, or that look in his eyes that made them twinkle with good humor, and that was all he needed.
They’d go for drinks after work and he could make Neville actually curl his head over and laugh so hard he was wheezing and slapping the table. Sometimes Neville would surprise Ron and get him to laugh just as hard.
It was a nice little pattern they had. They’d spend all day together at work then spend the evenings together too, either at a pub, or occasionally hanging out at one another’s flats.
They didn’t just laugh together.
When Ron got rattled from a nasty spell that behaved a lot like a fucked up nightmare fueled Boggart-Dementor had taken over his brain. He couldn’t see anything but the memories, and felt his knees go out from him. He was left a crying mess as his worst memories from the war tormented him.
“Ron?” he heard a voice cut through the panic. Neville. He was solid and there. He could feel his partner holding him through it. Ron gripped back like his life depended on it. Later when Ron had recovered, Neville’s arm had a series of fingerprint sized bruises on it, but he didn’t flinch or complain.
Later that night as they quietly dressed in their locker room, Ron noticed Neville’s build was much like his personality- solid. Like when did Neville start getting so fit? He looked a bit fat, but you hugged him and he was solid as a fucking oak tree. Right under that layer of pudge around his middle was a firm set of abs. His arms weren’t flabby at all, and were getting big. His shoulders were broader than he’d realized too, and his bum—
What the fuck?
Ron hadn’t been thinking about Neville’s bum. He hadn’t been thinking about his body and how built he was getting. Well… He was, but purely in a 'very platonically noticing things about a mate’ way, and not in a 'some undetermined feeling was making him squirm and need to cover his crotch with a towel before someone noticed he had a hardon’ sort of way…
Nope. He’d put that thought in a deep dark untouchable part of his brain, and most certainly not think or speak of it ever.
For months he was able to keep those thoughts at bay. Well, kind of. He just made a point of not looking at Neville in the locker room. Or when he leaned down to pick things up. Or when he leaned against the bar in those Auror trousers that left nothing to his imagination– which didn’t help because his imagination had tons of locker room sights to supply it.
He continued to make Neville laugh. They continued to be the best partners. He continued to appreciate Neville more and more every day.
One night they went to a Muggle club with a few of their mates. Ron was a little bit tipsy, he had to admit. Tipsy enough that he had danced a while, and even done it near Neville. Okay, maybe he was a bit drunk. Neville had laughed and barely moved as Ron energetically bounced to the music, but it had been nice. In the dark he could more openly watch Neville.
After a particularly robust bunch of dancing, Ron windedly went back to their table to cool off, Neville joining him. Hermione was dancing with Lee and Ginny, while Harry awkwardly moved next to them with so little grace it was almost shocking.
“How can he be so bloody good at movement with duels and flying,” Ron slurred a bit, “but be so gob-smakingly pathetic at movement the second music is involved?”
“Look. There’s a pattern to it,“ Neville said, conspiratorially leaning close to Ron’s ear. Ron nervously swallowed feeling the warm breath against him. "First he does a hip thing, and then come out the thumbs. Watch. He’s about to bite his lip and do it!”
Ron watched and sure enough Harry did a strange stilted wiggle of his hips. A horrible overbite took over his face. Wagging his elbows, thumbs began to move about like a broken hitchhiker.
Ron snorted into his beer. “God, if I ever look that bad dancing, I give you permission to body-bind me.”
“Should I do the body bind here, or…?” Neville asked, that cheeky smile on his face that made Ron’s pulse quicken.
“We can do it at my place,” he replied, giving his partner a shove that made beer almost spill down his front. “I’m spent on loud music anyway. I’d rather spend the evening with you.”
“Fair enough,” said Neville, paying their tab. They were near enough that they could take one of those Muggle pedi-cabs instead of the stomach churning Knight Bus. Ron had never taken one and was delighted when they did the bell for him.
“You two seem to be having a nice night,” the sturdy woman with closely cropped hair laughed.
“I’ve been out dancing with the best partner in the world,” Ron gushed, putting an arm around Neville who contentedly smiled back. “This guy right here. He’s my partner!”
“Oh that’s nice!” she said with a smile. “Me and my girlfriend love this neighborhood. It’s really friendly to that."
Ron nodded, though he wasn’t sure what she meant.
"He’s really strong and muscled.”
“Mmm hmm,” the woman said with an amused look.
“He’s my partner!” Ron needed her to know that.
The ride was too short, and Ron tried to work out the Muggle money, quite the task when he was so tipsy. Neville quickly took over and thanked the pedi-cab cyclist, passing along some bills.
“Let’s get you inside, partner,” Neville laughed. They didn’t have to bother with keys, as Ron’s door was warded to his wand. It was a good thing too, as he didn’t think he’d be much use with keys at the moment.
Ron threw himself on the sofa, watching Neville get water from the kitchen. Thoughtful as usual, Neville had a glass for Ron as well.
“Drink up so you don’t have a hangover.”
“I have potions,” Ron said with a dismissive hand gesture, but he drank the whole glass anyway.
“I wanted to make sure you got home alright, but I probably should get going,” said Neville, rising from the sofa.
“No, wait, stay a bit longer,” Ron said, pulling Neville back to the couch, and this time a whole lot closer than before. Their shoulders were almost touching.
Neville sighed before saying, “Okay…"
"Good!” replied Ron, putting an arm around Neville’s shoulder. “You’re the best!”
He leaned in and kissed Neville’s temple. His partner’s breath hitched, and it took a moment for Ron to realize why. He let out a nervous laugh.
“Hah… yeah… The best,” he repeated, straightening up a bit, but his eyes started trailing over Neville’s face. The squint of his eyes, the same blue as the sky right when a storm was brewing. The set of his jaw that was pulsing a bit. The questioning look. The lips that were doing that little smile when he was holding back from laughing or saying something. Ron didn’t want him to hold back. He wanted to make Neville laugh and say things, and do things with him, and he couldn’t stop looking at that mouth.
“Ron…” Neville let out, but Ron didn’t want to just look anymore. He leaned in and put his lips to Neville’s, turning his head just far enough for the kiss to be more than a peck. It was so much more than a peck. It was like being held in that solid embrace of Neville’s. It was like making his partner laugh. It was feeling valued. It was warm and thirst quenching, and Ron moaned.
Neville’s body was against his, one of his earth-rough hands slid to hold Ron’s side as the kiss deepened. They were opening their mouths and instincts were taking over that Ron didn’t even know he had. They enthusiastically snogged until finally they parted, panting, and staring at one another.
“Er… Was that…?” Ron trailed off.
“It was…”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah!”
“Cause I…”
“Can we just agree we’re the best partners in the world, and now that includes being good at snogging?” Neville asked, putting out a hand.
“I’ll agree to that,” Ron said, giving the proffered hand a shake before pulling Neville close and snogging him again.
___________________________________________
Two Years later
“This is my partner!” Ron enthusiastically told the pedi-cab cyclist.
“Hah, yeah– I remember you!” she laughed.
“Not that kind of partner- a husband-partner!” Ron let her know.
“I remember that too,” she said with a smile.
Ron looked at Neville with confusion. They hadn’t been in a pedicab since the night they’d first gotten together.
“Best partner in the world,” Ron said quietly to Neville.
“So are you,” he said with a kiss.