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Shower Blues

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Harry/Ron
NC-17
3,285 words
May 17, 2004

Harry Potter Fan Fics

Harry and Ron have a disagreement in the showers.
Thank you to snoopypez for betaing!

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"Harry! Stop th... oh, ooohh..." A breathy moan followed the startled whisper. "Harry... we really can't..." The soft sound of skin on skin could be heard, echoing off the white tiles and bouncing back at the two boys under the shower spray.

The steam from their hotter than usual shower obscured the forms of them, making it impossible to tell more than their height - one short, one tall - and hair colour - black and red. Not that there was anybody who could see them.

The Christmas holidays were well under way and the only Gryffindor boys who had stayed were some first and second years that were probably already huddled up in their beds.

Where Harry and Ron would have been as well. If they hadn't promised to help Hagrid with some escaped Grimmels - magical snow rabbits that were about as easy to find as an original edition of Quidditch Through the Ages - and consequently were frozen half to death by the time they had rounded up all forty-two of them. Which was the reason they were currently wasting all the hot water usually needed for forty people.

Despite his protests, Ron leaned back against Harry, enjoying the feel of Harry's hands on him, Harry's body against him, the warm air dispersing every last cold place on his body.

Harry's right hand was running up and down Ron's cock, eliciting the most delicious responses, small moans, loud gasps and little whimpers that went right from Harry's ears to his cock. Keeping it hard even without any stimulation, spurring him on to make his movements just that bit more interesting; more pleasurable and more fantastic for his boyfriend.

He leaned as far up as he could, careful not to break the rhythm he had established and whispered into Ron's ear. "Why can't we, Ron? Doesn't this," he made a twisting motion he knew Ron liked, "feel good?"

His only answer was a drawn-out moan that sent shivers down Harry's back and usually would have made him very self-conscious of the fact that somebody might hear them. There was no chance of that now however, so it just ignited pleasure within him.

Ron was still leaning against him and while he loved the way Ron's body felt against his smaller one, he had to let go of him. His legs just weren't steady enough anymore to support both of them and so he started to slow his movements down, drawing a whimper from Ron and finally he stopped.

With a great deal of reluctance Ron came out of his daze, noticing that the stimulation had stopped and turned around in Harry's arms. He stepped even closer to Harry, now carrying his own weight and leaned down to kiss Harry's dark red lips.

He touched them quickly, once... twice... and then pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth and moved it around. First with Harry's eager tongue, then skipping away from it, moving against his palate, his teeth and finally luring Harry's tongue into his mouth.

He eventually broke the kiss off when he needed to breathe, taking great lung fulls of the hot and humid air around them and staring down at Harry with lust-filled eyes.

Harry was right. There was no reason they shouldn't do anything now. In fact there was every reason they should do something now.

With one swift movement he had Harry turned, with his back towards the wall, and hoisted him up against it. This evened out their differences in height out and he could finally feel Harry's cock against his own, hip movements by both of them causing the cocks to rub together in the most delicious way possible.

He plunged back into Harry's mouth, catching the cries from his lips before they could escape into the bathroom, gripping Harry's firm arse cheeks like they were his anchor from drowning, and pushed.

Unchecked movements, frenzied by their doubled lust, enthralled by their possibility for privacy... taking them closer and closer to the peak of their coupling.

With a great gasp, Harry tore his mouth away from him, panting heavily, hips bucking in an uncontrolled rhythm... splattering creamy white come between them, hitting his head on the tiles; eyes squeezed shut with small droplets of water clinging to his lashes.

Ron took in all this in the milliseconds before his own orgasm hit, almost swiping him off his feet and only a mixture of stubbornness and fear to hurt Harry kept him standing, slowly letting go off Harry's arse, letting him slide down, following him to the floor and sitting there on his knees, breath short, forehead leaned against Harry's collarbone.

Here on the floor, the fog was even denser, making it hard to breathe even if they hadn't been wheezing like the Hogwarts Express. They both stayed there for a moment longer, then Ron pulled together all his willpower and stood up. He tapped the shower head three times to switch it off and then leaned against the wall when some fresh air started to make its way into their cubicle.

Harry was looking up at him, dopey grin on his face and held up his hand to be helped up. With a put upon sigh, Ron took his hand and pulled, the dead weight almost sending him to the floor as well. He mock-glared at Harry. "You could at least pretend to help."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, I don't think I will. After all, what is the fun in that?"

"I could just leave you here."

"Of course. But then you would have to explain to Hermione what happened to me in the shower and we know that is not something you want to talk to her about."

Ron felt himself flush with anger. "I thought we had covered that topic. I don't want her to know and that's the end of it. No discussion."

"Right. You decided." Harry got up to get at least some more height advantage even if he still only reached Ron's shoulders. "And what I think about it doesn't matter." He turned around to march out, but in the last moment Ron's hand landed on his forearm.

"Harry, you know I just don't... I mean, what is she going to think?"

"What is she going to think? Don't you have anything else to worry about? After all it isn't as if I want to take out an ad in the Daily Prophet." He turned around and looked into Ron's eyes. "I just want to tell our closest and oldest friend who is extremely tolerant of anything that's not against the rules. What the hell is the problem with that?"

Ron took a deep breath. They had had this discussion before, but usually Harry only backed down and told him they would tell Hermione when they both felt comfortable with it. Now it seemed as if Harry's patience had come to an end. He tried to explain himself. "It just... it'd be weird. Her knowing *that* about us... I mean, you know her! She would probably want to research or give us tips about our... about what we just did."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "So you say that you feel uncomfortable about her knowing, because she'll know we have sex?"

"Well... yes. Can't you imagine her? She'll find out all about the stuff we do, because if there's one thing she's good at it's research and... it'd just be weird."

"So you say just because Hermione might find out what two guys can do in the bedroom, you don't want her to know?" Harry's voice had risen when he got to the end o the question and Ron knew he was treading on dangerous ground.

He decided the shortest might be the answer most likely not to get himself punched. "Yes."

From Harry's look this was the wrong answer. "YES?" He took a deep breath when his shout echoed back at him from the walls and continued quieter. "What would have happened if you had dated a girl? Then she would have known from the start what the two of you would be doing during sex. Or is it just that you don't want her to know that the great, charming, handsome Ronald Weasley enjoys gay sex?"

Ron could feel his face heating up just thinking about it, but he knew that wasn't the case. He didn't care about the fact that they were two blokes; he just didn't want anybody to know. Was that so hard to understand?

After all, when it came out that he took it up the arse, he wouldn't be able to bag a bird ever again...

His thoughts petered out at that. Why would he want to? He was with Harry and as far as he was concerned it would stay that way.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Harry leaving in a huff. He was checking his motives behind the relationship, slowly sinking down the wall while he was thinking.

***


"Hi, Hermione. Still working?"

She looked up with a small smile. "Not really. I'm only going through the Transfiguration essay once more. I thought I should perhaps add a few more examples and statistics for accidents in human transfigurations. What do you think?"

Harry came over to the sofa she was sitting on and threw a glance at her parchment. "You already have at least two feet more than required. I think that's more than enough."

"Hmm, I know and I promised myself I'd learn how to write more concisely; still, this is absolutely fascinating and I'd hate to leave anything out..." She drifted off and looked at her watch in surprise. "I hadn't noticed it's that late already." She looked at Harry. "You spent a long time in the shower... and where's Ron?"

Harry tried to keep his face expressionless, but judging from Hermione's suspicious look he didn't succeed.

"Ron is still upstairs." He shrugged his shoulders. "And we were half frozen, so it took some time to warm up."

He looked at Hermione with what he hoped was an innocent expression. He had tried to calm down while he had been dressing and coming down the stairs, and he didn't want to think about their argument again. At least not at the moment.

Hermione looked at him, confused, but then smiled. "And you guys are always on about girls taking forever in the bathroom."

Harry couldn't help himself, he sniggered. "You wouldn't think so if you had ever shared a bath with Percy. It takes him ages until all his hair sits just the right way and he is sure there isn't a speck of dirt on him."

Hermione giggled along with him and Harry was already starting to feel a little better. He was half tempted to just tell Hermione without asking Ron, but then figured that would be the sure end of their relationship.

However, he still couldn't stop wondering about it. He half expected Ron to come down the stairs every moment and... just bloody tell Hermione! He didn't come.

So he just sat there, listening to Hermione babbling on about this and that accident in Transfigurations, nodding at the right places.

He didn't notice when he started to nod off and only became aware of it when he snatched his head up after a second of sleep. Disoriented, he looked around the room, saw Hermione looking at him with an indulgent smile and distractedly noted that she was in a good mood tonight. She hadn't even chided him for not listening.

"Why don't you go to bed, Harry?" She gave a small yawn. "I think I'm going to do that myself." Harry only nodded. His brain still wasn't quite back from wherever it had taken off to and only when Hermione had packed her books and parchments and was looking at him expectantly, did he also get up and followed her to the staircases. A mutual 'Good Night' echoed through the room and then only the distant sounds of two people climbing the stairs could be heard.

Harry entered his dorm room, fully expecting to find Ron's curtains closed and his snores ghosting thought the room.

Instead he not only found a silent, but also an empty room. At the sight worry began to creep into him and he quickly closed the door again and made his way to the bathroom.

Sure enough, there he was, still sitting on the floor, arms slung over his knees, a forlorn expression on his face.

At first Harry didn't know what to say, so he simply decided on acting. He went over to Ron, crouched down next to him and tried to look into his eyes, but Ron didn't want to look into his. He was the picture of misery with the frown on his face, shaggy hair hanging in his face, shivering like a lost puppy.

And just like that, Harry's anger at Ron's earlier words faded into the background. It was still there, pulsing somewhere, but it didn't need to be released just *now*, it could wait.

Now his priority was to get Ron into their room. As Ron wasn't looking at him, Harry simply gripped his upper arms and tried to pull him up.

Even though Ron was almost as cold as an hour before, he didn't move an inch.

"Come on, Ron!" He pulled some more. "There is no use in sitting here, getting sick. Just get up and dressed and then go to bed. We can talk in the morning."

Finally, something in Harry's speech seemed to get through to Ron; he looked up from the contemplation of his knees and even helped in standing himself up.

Harry applied a quick drying charm to Ron's hair and then led him over to the door.

"Harry, I'm really sorry about earlier. You know I was just -"

"Shh. Later." Harry laid a finger to Ron's lips. He opened the door, looked up and down the corridor and when everything was empty, he simply pushed the still naked Ron outside and back into their dorm on the other side of the hall.

Ron still wasn't resisting this treatment and so Harry simply prodded him to go to his bed and after he had shucked his own clothes, followed him.

After all there was nothing like skin to skin contact to warm somebody up.

Ron was shivering against him, so Harry wound a protective arm around his waist and moved even closer.

He could feel his cock settling into the crack of Ron's arse, but simply tried to ignore it. Now obviously wasn't the time for shagging.

Except that Ron seemed to think differently; he kept moving against Harry, wiggling his arse, making it harder and harder for Harry to suppress the feelings this was producing.

"Harry, I'm really sorry about just then." He took a deep breath and Harry tried to shush him once again, but he continued anyway. "I finally realised that... well... I'm... we're going to tell Hermione tomorrow, okay?

The worry Harry had been feeling for Ron turned into happiness. He didn't even want to pry what had suddenly made Ron change his mind, he was simply glad that the constant secrets and hiding would at least be partially over.

He whispered a quiet 'Thank You' into the back of Ron's hair.

And just like that the eerie silence and discomfort that had been between them disappeared. Ron wiggled one more time, making Harry now fully aware of the feelings he had tried to suppress and when he turned around in Harry's embrace, they found each other's mouths with such a ferocity that their teeth clicked together.

From that second on, nothing was barred. Harry pulled Ron even closer to him smashing their bodies together, wanting to feel him against his body, wanting to feel Ron's cock against his own, Ron's chest against his skin, Ron's legs around his. There just still seemed to be too much air between them.

With a low growl, he pushed Ron back against the bed and pounced on him. There was no question who was going to get buggered tonight and Harry relished in his unusual role. While they had traded from time to time, Ron normally initiated the first contact, but tonight, Harry would be in charge.

He pulled his mouth from Ron's, watched Ron taking in big lung fulls of air, and then pushed his mouth down again. He swiped his tongue through Ron's mouth, duelled with Ron's tongue and then he went lower; kissed Ron's throat and collarbone, and nipples, went up again.

He let go of Ron for a second to grab lube from bedside drawer and then dived back in again. Only intend on giving Ron pleasure and taking pleasure himself. Nothing else mattered at the moment. He pushed Ron's legs apart and with a low moan, Ron took hold of his thighs and pulled them up towards his chest. He had to be just as impatient as Harry was.

Harry pulled the stopper from the bottle and almost spilled it in his haste to get to the good part... well, the better part really. This was already damn good. He slicked two of his fingers up and pushed them into Ron. After the first obstacle was overcome, he moved quicker, establishing a fast rhythm in pushing into Ron and pulling out again.

Through the rushing in his ears, he thought he could hear Ron's keening cries and finally looked up when Ron's hand touched his head. Ron looked incredible like this. Red hair splayed against the white linen, eyes glazed over and breathing like he had run a marathon. "Get on with it!" And apparently impatient as always.

Harry grinned at him, pulled his fingers out and guided his cock to Ron's hole. With one slow push the head of his cock was in and he could now move into Ron more quickly.

As soon as he had pushed all the way in, he pulled out again, setting a fast rhythm, making Ron hold onto his thighs harder. He was getting more forcefully with the second, until the only things he could feel where the tightness around his cock, the prickling around his spine and the distant sounds of both their moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

Finally with an earth-shattering howl, he pushed in a last time and stayed there until his orgasm had run its course. He pulled out, his over-sensitised cock not liking any more friction and looked down at Ron who was still writhing on the sheets.

In one swoop he took Ron's cock into his mouth, winding his hand around the part he couldn't reach and sucked. He swirled his tongue around the head and over the slit and then with a groan at least a loud as his, Ron came into his mouth, come splattering Harry's tongue. He stroked a few more time, every time getting a smaller dollop until finally Ron stopped.

They were both still out of breath and for a moment, Harry leaned his head against Ron's stomach to get some much needed air into his lungs.

He finally noticed the insistent pulling at his arms, and looked up at Ron. Ron was grinning down at him like an idiot, no sign of the previous melancholy. Harry grinned back. He crawled up to lay next to Ron and threw an arm around him. They traded one, two chaste kisses and then Harry laid his head down on Ron's shoulder and felt Ron's arm tighten around him. Everything was going to be fine.
 
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