Dulcify

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/51810697.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M, Multi
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Ron Weasley, Harry
Potter/Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Characters: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville
Longbottom
Additional Tags: Dom/sub, Dominance, Submissive Character, Submission, Violent Sex,
Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Gay, Gay Sex, Everyone Is
Gay, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Blood Kink
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-11-25 Words: 6,003 Chapters: 1/1
 Dulcify
by weasleyship

Summary

A kinky game ensues when Seamus dangles Ron in front of Harry like sexual catnip.

Smut.

It's smut.
“Are you listening?”

“Yeah…”

“Very good. Now if you need to, just say stop. But I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay.”

“Nervous?”

[~]Two Hours Earlier[~]

Harry was almost certain he was going mental. He couldn’t explain it, really, but also he
wasn’t sure he wanted to. Because if he was wrong, it could be messy.

But he couldn’t be wrong, could he?

“Done?”

Harry snapped his head up, looking at Ron. But there it was again. Ron giving him a Look. It
was very subtle. Like the change in his demeanor around Harry now. For seven years they
had known each other, Harry could safely say that he could read Ron pretty well. His
expressions, his body language. But for the past few weeks, something had shifted.

Overall, Ron was a pure person. Not in a way that he was completely innocent, of course,
Harry had heard the stories. But in a way where if he did love you, he loved you
wholeheartedly. If he wanted to be your friend, he was completely loyal to you. Like he was
to Harry.

However, lately…lately…Harry could swear he was seeing something new in Ron’s eyes.
Something taunting. Teasing. But so subtle it was is if he was the same old Ron but the
twinkle in his eyes now just said “fuck me.”

It was torture for two reasons. One, because if Harry was wrong and tried to act on it, more
than likely their friendship would be ruined. And two, because if he was right…well…he
wasn’t entirely sure Ron knew what he was in for, because Harry wouldn’t stop even if he
was begging.

“Harry?”

Harry quickly cleared his throat and snapped his notebook shut. He was supposed to have
been writing plans for their next few practices but he had written nothing. Being up in the
dorm on one particularly warm fall day, Ron had bypassed the chance to do homework and
instead had procured from his trunk a couple of unopened bottles of Firewhisky that Fred and
George had sent him in a package labeled “Fred and George’s old books.” Dean and Seamus
had jumped in on this very quickly, but Harry had tried to stay productive. Actually, he was
trying to hide the fact that he had been mentally fucking his best friend in his mind for the
past hour. Aggressively. Wiping that cute little crooked smile off his face and making him cry
out in ecstasy. Moan Harry’s name as he reached climax, and beg him to stop when Harry
would continue pounding in to him to drive him mad with overstimulation.

Thus, he had at least attempted to avoid the scenario of both Ron and alcohol.

Attempted.

No point now, however. Ron smiled at him, making the inside of his head hot, and passed
him one of the bottles, sitting next to him on the bed. Harry’s jaw clenched, not out of
annoyance, but out of resisting the urge to pin him down. He quickly shook it off and, feeling
a comforting cool breeze, looked around.

“Who’s whirlwind?” he asked, spotting the small, cylindrical spot of swirling wind and snow
in the corner.

“Dean’s,” Ron replied, taking the bottle back from Harry, “Good, isn’t it? Well come on, take
a break, join us.”

Harry followed him to the corner, where Dean, Seamus, and Neville were lounging by the
open window. The sun was setting, casting a soothing glow throughout the room. Seamus
was laying on his stomach on his bed, and snagged the bottle from Ron as he took a seat on
the floor near him.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” Seamus said flirtatiously.

Harry’s skin prickled, and his eyes narrowed. That had been another thing. For the past few
days Seamus had been extra touchy-feely with Ron. Slinging an arm over his shoulder in the
hallways, calling him by endearing nicknames. At a celebration of Gryffindor winning a
match, Harry had even seen Seamus standing behind Ron with both hands on his waist,
whispering something in his ear that had made Ron’s neck turn pink. Harry had imagined the
guys death several times during these instances. But, seeing as he had never exactly staked a
claim on Ron, and Dean and Seamus were very open, he supposed that Ron was fair game.
And as far as he knew, his best friend typically blew off these advances anyway.

“So,” Dean said from his spot on the floor, Harry plopped down next to him, “Harry. Made
any decisions on the new chaser?”

“Um,” Harry said, trying to focus, “No. Not yet. Sorry, I’ll let you know soon.” He reached
into the large pile of sweets that was laid out in front of them all, avoiding Dean’s
disappointed look, and grabbed a chocolate frog to occupy his hands.

“Your turn, Nev,” Seamus suddenly said, ignoring the quidditch talk, he had tried out for
Chaser as well but then admitted he didn’t want it as badly as his boyfriend, “Truth or dare?”

Neville’s eyes went wide, and Ron chuckled. Harry couldn’t hold back a smile as well. As
Neville considered his fate, Ron passed the bottle back to Harry, their fingers brushing
together. Harry eyed him, and Ron’s gaze dropped quickly, then he peered up at him through
his eyelashes.

Fuck, Harry thought with a shake of his head, forcing his cock to stop threatening to harden.

“I, um…okay…truth,” Neville finally said, his face red, and probably not just from the
alcohol.

“Alright,” Seamus replied thoughtfully, resting his head on one hand, “Out of everyone in
this room…who would you rather kiss?”

Neville’s face turned even redder. Dean and Ron began laughing at his shocked expression,
and even Harry had to chuckle. Neville sputtered nervously.

“I-I like girls.”

“I know,” Seamus replied, grinning, “But if you had to.”

Neville looked at all of them in turn. “Er…um…I guess…I don’t know. Dean?”

Dean made a noise of triumph, and Seamus chucked a pillow at him, while everyone else
continued to laugh. Harry glanced over at Ron, only to feel another surge of anger as he saw
Seamus brushing his fingers along Ron’s shoulder as he murmured something to him that
made him stop laughing and shake his head with a scoff. The Irish Gryffindor then looked
over at Harry with a smirk that would rival Malfoy’s.

I can think of fifty different ways to kill you right now and get away with it, Harry though
bitterly, Don’t fuck with me.

The night went on. The sky turned dark, leaving only a few lanterns in the room to light the
room, casting eerie yet tranquil shadows along the walls. And, steadily, they all became very
tipsy. Neville was the first to check out for the night, falling asleep quickly in his bed. Ron
had closed his curtains for him and silenced them from the outside so they did not wake him.
Harry felt very relaxed now. His anger and jealousy had dissipated, and for a few minutes he
had forgotten about his newfound attraction to his best friend.

But only for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I could ever be open,” Ron was saying at one point with a shake of his head,
looking somewhat embarrassed to say this in front of his dorm mates.

“It’s not for everyone,” Dean replied with a shrug, not sounding offended at all, which
relaxed the tension in Ron’s face.

“Why don’t you think you could be open?” Seamus asked curiously, staring at his blanket
and picking at a loose thread.

Harry watched Ron intently, finding himself glad that Ron wouldn’t want an open
relationship. Because if he had his way, and Ron was with him, he’d simply off anyone who
even thought they could touch him.
“I guess I just want to know I’m fully with someone,” Ron finally answered, “That I only
belong to them, you know?”

At this statement, Dean and Seamus both immediately looked at each other, hosting a silent
conversation with their eyes. Then Seamus remarked,

“Ah, you want to be someone’s possession.” He smiled mischievously when Ron shrugged.
“See?” his gaze shifted back to his boyfriend, “I told you he has kinks.” Once again his
fingers danced along Ron’s shoulder, then brushed lightly on the side of his neck, making
him shiver. Harry seethed.

But he was fully invested in listening to this conversation now. He looked at his best friend,
who looked amused as well as flustered as he said,

“What? That’s not…I don’t have kinks.”

“Oh yes you do,” Dean replied with a laugh, “If Seamus says you do, then you definitely do.
He’s an expert at guessing people’s kinks.”

Harry fiddled with the bottle in his hands, then took a sip. Seamus suddenly looked over at
him with an eyebrow raised. “Harry’s were easy.”

Harry choked on the burning liquid in his mouth, then quickly swallowed and cleared his
throat. “What?” He looked from Seamus to Dean, “Like what?” Ron was also looking at him
curiously now.

“Hang on,” Seamus told him, then he climbed out of his bed and then walked around to his
trunk, the one Ron’s back was leaning against, and sat down, “Test run.”

“Think he switches that quickly?” Dean said, looking very entertained. He was sitting up
straighter, beaming at his boyfriend.

“Definitely,” Seamus replied with a nod, and as his eyes remained on Dean, his hand moved
down and swiftly grasped Ron’s chin, tilting his head back as Seamus finally looked down at
him, forcing Ron to focus on him, “Can I play with you?”

A possessive, animalistic sort of feeling now crept through Harry. He expected Ron to pull
away, to scoff and say no. What he did not expect, was to see that Ron had seemed to freeze,
his eyes going soft, almost melting at the forceful touch. Satisfied, Seamus smirked, and
released him. It only took Harry a brief second to realize what had just happened.

Ron, however, seemed oblivious. He looked back down, shaking his head with a small smile.
“Play what?” he finally asked, his voice suddenly very small.

“Just give me ten minutes,” Seamus replied, and he stood up, indicating that Ron should
follow, which he did.

“Ten minutes to what?” Ron asked. Surprisingly, he did not seem nervous, only curious,
and…ready.
Seamus smiled patiently. “To turn you on,” he replied in a quiet but firm voice, “Which…I
can. Because I already know what you like.”

Don’t you dare.

He unclenched the very slightest when Ron suddenly looked at him, and just as he opened his
mouth to say something-

“Ah ah,” Seamus chided, once again grabbing Ron’s chin and forcing him to face forward,
“Look at me, baby.”

Harry rose slowly. He was ready to pull Ron away. Shake him for even letting it get this far.
Throw him down and fuck him until he promised to never let anyone else touch him ever
again.

But then Ron spoke.

“Alright.”

It was Harry’s turn to freeze now.

“What do I get if I’m right, hm?” Seamus asked, slipping his hands under Ron’s shirt, and
making Dean chuckle.

Ron sputtered a nervous chuckle. “I…don’t know.”

Seamus smirked, his hands running up and down Ron’s sides. “Fine. If I can turn you on, I
get to fuck you.” His smirk deepened as Ron blushed.

“Alright.”

When this word left Ron’s mouth, Harry lowered himself next to Dean, who was now sitting
on his trunk. The air seemed to have left his lungs. He looked over, only to see that Dean
appeared perfectly content watching this. He met Harry’s eyes, and seemed to sense his
nerves.

“Jealous?” he whispered, looking sly. He was not the jealous type, himself.

Harry scoffed. “No.” Though he reached down and grabbed the bottle, finishing it off, and
listened to what Seamus was now saying to Ron with a very mischievous edge to his voice.

“You have to trust me, alright?”

Ron looked at him slowly, still seeming nervous, but a small smile on his face. “Okay.”

Dean looked over at Harry again, and chuckled. Harry shot him a glare, but Dean remained
amused. When Harry looked back, he wished he hadn’t. Seamus pushed Ron onto his bed…
aggressively. A devilish twinkle appeared in Ron’s eyes, and he pushed himself onto his
elbows, looking like he was trying to hold back a smile. Like he was enjoying himself, but
trying to hide it.
Seamus chuckled as he climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. Harry’s hands clenched
into fists when he watched as Seamus then grabbed the front of Ron’s shirt and yanked him
forward. Ron let out the tiniest of gasps.

“Are you listening?” Seamus whispered, caressing the side of Ron’s face.

“Yeah…”

“Very good. Now if you need to, just say stop. But I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay.” More of a whimper than a murmur.

“Nervous?”

Ron swallowed but shook his head as Seamus removed his hand.

“You’re precious,” Seamus whispered, a demeaning edge to his tone, “It makes me want to
ruin you.”

Harry let out a steady, deep breath. He was ready to tell Seamus to stop. That was his friend.
His Ron.

His property.

Seamus slid Ron’s shirt off then pushed him down so he was laying on the pillow. Harry
couldn’t help noticing that his fingers were digging into the bed. From nerves, or lust, Harry
could not tell. Seamus ran a hand up Ron’s side, across his chest, then up to his throat, where
he gently squeezed, causing another quiet whimper. Ron clamped his mouth shut, blushing.

“That’s right,” Seamus cooed, “I can make you feel good, love.” Suddenly, Ron’s eyes
flicked over to Harry, and Seamus tightened his grip, his eyes going dark and his tone
changing. “No.” He punctuated this word by pushing Ron harder into the bed by his throat.

“Here it comes,” Dean whispered, nudging Harry.

Ron’s eyes flicked back up, and Seamus released his throat, and stroked the side of his face.
“Good boy,” he murmured.

The change in Ron’s demeanor instantly changed. His breathing grew very heavy, and his
eyes had seemed to glaze over. His fingers clutched harder at the bed, hips raising off the bed
so subtly it was barely noticeable. Seamus laughed in amusement. He ran a hand through
Ron’s hair, looking him in the eye. “You’re mine right now.” With ease, he then sat up to grab
Ron’s hands, pinning them right above his head. “Right?”

Harry got the distinct feeling that Ron had completely forgotten there was anyone else in the
room now. And his blood boiled. His fingers ached to be in Seamus’s spot right now.
Touching Ron, stroking his hair, pinning him down, playfully choking him…

“If you let me,” Seamus was saying now, bending down and kissing Ron gently, “I can make
you feel really good.” He kissed him again, and this time Ron lingered, following as Seamus
pulled away for the briefest of moments. “I could make you scream. I could make you cum.”

Harry wasn’t sure he could handle much more of this. His anger and possessiveness was
making him so hot, so uncomfortable, he could rip off his own skin. He could probably rip
off Seamus’s head, too. The only thing making it worse was the way Ron was responding.
His breathing growing rapid and deep, a whimper with every exhale, a flush rising from his
chest to his face. The dazed, lustful gleam in his eye made Harry’s lower regions ache with
longing. He needed Ron to look at him like that. The desire had grown too strong, it was no
longer a want.

“Do you like that idea?” Seamus was whispering now, and then he paused, looked down, and
laughed, “I think you lost, sweetheart.”

It was only then that Ron seemed to hesitate, pulling himself back to reality for the briefest of
seconds, biting his lip anxiously.

“I intend to follow through on our little wager,” Seamus said, he gripped Ron’s waist with
such force he was likely to bruise him. Then he smirked with a tilt of his head, and brought
one hand back up to Ron’s face and brushed along his perfectly bow shaped pink lips. “Are
you a virgin, love?”

Ron nodded. “I’ve done…lots of stuff, but…” his voice was shaking as much as his entire
body.

“Fuck you’re adorable,” Seamus simpered, then gave a tiny sigh, “I should be gentle…” He
brushed a lock of hair off Ron’s forehead, “But I won’t be.”

A sound between a moan and a whine escaped Ron’s throat. A sound that went straight to
Harry’s cock. He wanted to intervene, now. There was no way he could allow someone else
to take his best friends innocence. That was his to take. But then, there was a hand on his
thigh and a warm voice in his ear.

“Let Shay get him ready,” Dean whispered, “Make Ron think you’re going to let him do it.
Make him beg for you.”

Before Harry could respond or have another logical thought, Dean had attached himself to his
neck. Already flustered and overrun with sexual desire, Harry closed his eyes and let out a
small groan. Spurred by this noise, Dean’s hand trailed higher. Harry opened his eyes, only to
see that Ron was looking directly at him.

For one moment, it seemed like the world was silent. There was only him, and Ron. Eyes
connected. And Harry knew. He finally knew. Ron wanted him, too. But now they seemed to
be playing a game. With Seamus tugging Ron’s pants off, and Dean dropping to his knees in
front of Harry…which one of them would stop. Which one of them would give in to the
unspoken desire and go to the other first. A sexually driven game of chicken with Ron’s
virginity at stake.

“Fuck it,” Harry whispered, looking down at Dean, who grinned up at him. Harry stood,
letting him slide his pants down, making a noise of approval when he realized there was
nothing underneath, and that Harry’s cock was already standing erect, leaking in
preparedness.

The second Harry felt Dean’s warm mouth engulf him, he let out a quivering breath, and
brought his gaze back to Ron, who was now naked, and looking at Seamus again. Yet he
seemed to sense Harry’s gaze and his eyes drifted to him. And though his expression was
pleading, he uttered no words.

“You stop that,” Seamus growled, and Ron’s eyes flicked back to him. In a slightly gentler
tone, and one that seemed to briefly drop all aspects of playing around so that he knew he had
full permission, Seamus asked, “Ready?”

When Ron nodded, Seamus smiled in an appeasing way, and brought two fingers up to his
mouth, “Open.” He slid them in. “That’s right,” he cooed, “Get them nice and wet for me
love, or it’ll hurt more.”

Harry brought his focus back to Dean, swearing under his breath. He clutched tightly at his
hair, which caused Dean to moan, making Harry shudder as the vibrations pleasured his cock.
He moved a hand to clutch one of the bed posts, struggling to keep himself on both feet.
Moments later he heard a gasp of pain and looked up, his body going tense.

“Relax,” Seamus was whispering, his hand deep between Ron’s legs, “A cock is a lot bigger
than a finger, sweetheart.” He chuckled as Ron grasped at the covers, delicate noises of pain
escaping his throat, his eyes closed. Seamus lowered to kiss him on the forehead. “There you
go.” Harry watched him adjust his hand, then quickly move his lips to Ron’s, smothering a
loud cry. He pulled back. “Just take it,” he growled, “Two isn’t so bad.” His hand rocked
slowly for a few seconds, then it appeared that Ron had relaxed into the sensation, and his
eyes fluttered open.

“See?” Seamus said approvingly, he dropped down to give Ron a gentle kiss, “Such a good
boy, taking it so well.”

Again, these words of praise seemed to trigger something inside Ron. His hands moved from
gripping the covers, to pulling Seamus back to his lips. However, as he kissed him, his gaze
went past Seamus and straight to Harry.

“Damnit,” Harry groaned, and tugged at Dean’s hair to tell him to get up, which he instantly
did.

“Not giving in yet?” he whispered before pushing his lips against Harry’s neck.

Harry did not respond, and instead grabbed his waist and pulled him closer. His eye contact
with Ron was changing. Ron’s expression had stopped being taunting, to being desperate and
pleading. Pleading with Harry to cave. To take Seamus’s place. To take him. Harry’s
maintained his intensity, silently telling Ron that he wouldn’t move until he begged.

Then Ron’s eyes closed very quickly as he gasped, and then moaned loudly as his back
arched. He turned his head to face the man on top of him and his eyes flew open. “More,” he
cried, the loudest he had been since they had started, his hands on Seamus’s face.
Seamus actually groaned lightly at this, but obliged, shifting his weight to one side and
working his hand more forcefully. “Needy,” he chided over the sound of Ron’s moans,
proving that the pain had indeed been replaced with pleasure.

There was a sudden sharp sensation on the side of Harry’s neck as Dean bit him, and he
growled in response. Then he felt warm breath on his ear.

“I think he’s almost there.”

As soon as these words were whispered to him, Harry finally heard it. The sound he had been
shamelessly fantasizing about for days on end. However, the real thing was much, much
better.

“Harry…please…”

Two things happened as soon as these words left Ron’s lips. One, Harry immediately released
Dean, causing him to step away, unoffended it seemed, and kicked his pants off the rest of the
way, and rip his shirt off. Two, Seamus withdrew his hand, and bent down to kiss Ron on the
forehead, stroking his damp hair, whispering, “Took you long enough.”

Ron’s mouth clamped shut, as if he were worried Seamus was upset he had cried out for
someone else. But the dominant Gryffindor simply chuckled.

“It’s alright, I knew who you really wanted.” He looked back at Harry. “He’s all yours.”

Harry and Dean both stepped forward, Dean removing his clothes as he moved toward his
own bed. Harry approached Seamus, who had finally gotten off Ron.

“Thanks but I’ll never need your approval.” The words poured out of Harry’s mouth with an
edge of disdain, and his anger only grew when Seamus smiled and shook his head, but as he
walked past him, he murmured,

“You’re the one who let it get this far.”

Harry was about to turn around and respond with something sharp, but Ron let out another
plea.

“Please, Harry…”

The pull was too strong. In two swift movements he was finally where he needed to be: on
top of his best friend. Fingers laced as Harry pinned his arms down, cocks rutting together as
their hips rocked in similar rythyms, mouths clashing as their lips and tongues danced.

Ron was the first to pull away, panting heavily. But Harry was glad he had, because then he
got to take in the delicious look on his face. His eyes still glazed. Cheeks flushed. Lips
swollen and red. His entire being was radiating with need.

Even so, it did not soften Harry’s unwavering need to be rough. He pushed himself up
enough to move one hand up to his best friends neck, his thumb pushing on his throat. When
he heard Ron’s final gasp before allowing his breath to be taken, Harry finally staked his
claim.

“You’re mine,” he growled, “Understand? My best friend. My love. My-” he pressed harder,
“-brainless little fuck toy. Yeah?” he released his grip, pushing himself up. Ron took in a
sharp breath, and nodded. “Use your words.”

“Yours,” Ron whispered, and swallowed thickly as he watched Harry begin to position
himself, “I’m yours.” His eyes honed in on Harry’s hand as he began stroking his cock.

“That’s right,” Harry practically purred, continuing to move his hand along his length, “All
mine.”

Out of curiosity he cast a glance to the other pair in the room. Unsurprisingly, they were
completely wrapped up in each other, tongues and teeth flashing, fingers digging and nails
scratching. Gasps of pain as common as gasps of pleasure.

Harry looked back at Ron with a smirk, finally pushing the head of his cock at his lovers
hole, groaning at the tightness. Looking Ron in the eye, noticing he was holding his breath,
Harry pushed in slowly, a barrage of swear words leaving his mouth. Ron’s eyes closed
tightly, making small, whining noises.

“Relax, love,” Harry groaned, gripping at Ron’s waist with severity. “Let me in.” As he
continued pushing into Ron, his exhales came out in sputtering gasps, a dizzying feeling
overcoming him. “Good job,” he murmured, earning a whimper in response as Ron opened
his eyes, “Almost there, baby, you can take it.” He kept pushing until he finally bottomed out,
causing a loud cry from Ron, followed by breathy moaning.

None of Harry’s hyper detailed fantasies had prepared him for the actual feeling of being
inside his best friend. The heat, the way his body sucked him in, clenching around him.
However, nothing was as heavenly as the way Ron was looking at him. Like Harry was the
only person in the world. Like nothing else even mattered except for him.

It was precious.

A guttural noise escaped his throat as he began thrusting. With one hand clutching Ron’s hip,
and the other his shoulder, Harry made every thrust forceful. Meaningful. “Never forget who
you belong to,” he grunted, Ron never took his eyes off of him, even as he bit his lip to quiet
his moaning so he could listen to Harry. “And never,” Harry slid nearly all the way out before
violently thrusting back in to accentuate the severity of his words, “Never let anyone else
touch you again.”

“Never,” Ron panted, clawing at Harry’s arms, and arching his back, trying to force himself
further down on the hardness that was filling him.

Harry chuckled, and patted one of Ron’s burning cheeks. “Good,” he whispered, “That’s my
good boy. Mine.”

“Yours,” Ron whispered back, bearing down in desperation, “I…Harry, please-”

He was cut off by his own moans as Harry finally obliged to his neediness, and began
thrusting once again. He stayed steady at first, a teasing pace that left Ron breathing heavily,
but remain in a state of anticipation.

Harry once again looked over to the other bed, this time surprised to see that Dean and
Seamus had slowed down, and now Dean was on top, rocking his hips in a gentle way. Softly
kissing his lover, and running a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

But that wasn’t what Harry had planned, and he’d already experienced enough to know that
Ron did not want slow. Or gentle. Apparently, this whole time, he had wanted to be destroyed
as badly as Harry had been wanting to destroy him.

His thrusting instantly became erratic. His thighs were burning but he did not stop. Ron’s
cries, and moans, and whimpers spurred him. Harry could feel Ron’s nails tearing into his
flesh, and it only added to all the other glorious sensations. He bent down and pulled Ron’s
mouth into a kiss before sharply biting his bottom lip. He knew it was bleeding before he
pulled away. What was unexpected though, was the devilish smile Ron gave him.

God, he’s perfect.

Harry attached himself to Ron’s lips again, feeling his lovers hands on the back of his neck
and head. Their lips moved fluidly together, sliding easily amongst the sweat, saliva, and
blood, exchanging the salty and metallic taste between their mouths which felt so filthy, so
bizarrely hot, so torturously wrong yet deliciously right.

Harry left the kiss first, needing to breathe, but Ron held tight to the back of his head, looking
him deep in the eye.

“I fucking love you,” he breathed.

“I fucking love you,” Harry replied instantly, not needing to think twice. Because it was all
over now. Ron was his. And he did love him. Harry would kill for him, give him the whole
world, shower him with affection. Harry would give him anything as long as he continued to
stare at him like he was the only person who had ever mattered.

Harry pushed himself back up and grasped Ron’s waist again, picking up his pace. Ron’s
hand slowly reached for his own throbbing member, clearly aching for release.

And Harry smacked him.

Not truly in a way to harm him. Only enough to startle him, and give him a small, tempting
taste of the pain he craved with his pleasure. When Ron turned his head back, his eyes wide,
Harry grasped his chin.

“You can cum without touching yourself,” he snapped, “Next time you remember to ask
permission.”

Ron nodded under his hand, and Harry let go, increasing the ferocity of his already ruthless
pounding. Pushing in far and hard enough to make sure that for the next few days, every step
Ron took would remind him of this night.

Harry could feel his orgasm building, but he wasn’t ready yet. “Go on then,” he murmured to
Ron, “Cum. Cum for me.” And as he leaned down to kiss his blood stained lips, he felt the
warm, thick fluid pooling between them. Ron moaned heavily into Harry’s mouth, his hands
shaking as they clutched at the sides of his face, and Harry soon followed, forcing back his
own desire to moan as wantonly as Ron had, but he needed to stay the one in charge, the one
in control of both Ron and himself. They couldn’t have it any other way.

Harry did not stop kissing Ron until he had gone completely flaccid inside of him, and then
slowly sat up, trying to steady his breathing, wiping sweat off his forehead. Ron rested an
arm across his face as he caught his own breath, his glistening chest rising and falling. Harry
felt a shift in himself. His angers and frustrations melting away. His brain going back to
normal.

“Wow.”

Harry had completely forgotten about Dean and Seamus. He turned to look at them. Seamus
was sitting against the headboard, Dean resting half on his lap. They appeared as though they
had been watching for a while now.

“I knew you were a dominant one,” Seamus remarked, his hand slowly rubbing up and down
Dean’s arm, “I didn’t know you were that aggressive.”

“You started it,” Harry retorted, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh come on,” Dean remarked in defense of Seamus, “You both needed the push and you
know it.” He paused, “And it was fun to watch.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve let me get like that with you,” Seamus commented
thoughtfully, now slipping one of his hands into his boyfriends.

Harry let them continue talking with each other as he turned his attention back to the boy
underneath him.

“Ron,” he said quietly, glad to see his breathing had at least slowed, but he was still shaking,
“Are you okay?”

“Probably still coming out of it,” Seamus told him, “Just give him a couple minutes. I pushed
him into it pretty hard.”

“So easily,” Dean added, “Full sub, that one.”

“Coming out of what?” Harry asked, feeling confused by a lot of what they had just said.

“Well…” Seamus replied slowly, “You know…that place you go when you’re shagging like
that. I mean…” He tilted his head, “You went somewhere, right? That place that makes you
want to treat him…like that.”
Harry considered what he was saying, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said with a heavy exhale,
“Yeah I did.”

“Yeah, so, Ron has one too,” Seamus continued, “And, um...” He shrugged, “With that one,
that mindset, it’s harder to pull out of. Especially when things get…intense like that, and
especially the first time they experience it. It’s gonna take him a minute.”

Harry recalled that dazed gleam in Ron’s eye, his voice suddenly sounding small, the
begging. The exact opposite of what Harry had turned into. He ran a hand through his hair,
sighing. He wished Ron would come back to him. Harry thrived on his attention now. It was
addictive. Ron was addictive.

Harry ran his hands up and down his lovers sides, then carefully slid off of him and rested his
back on the headboard, pulling the blanket over both of them, and gently tugged on Ron’s
arm, hoping he was at least aware enough to reposition himself. Harry didn’t worry much
longer, and Ron soon pushed himself into Harry’s lap, resting on his side and covering his
face again with his arm.

“You okay?” Harry whispered, gently rubbing his shoulder, which bore a large violently red
mark where he had been grabbing earlier, threatening to bruise. Though he felt no guilt about
it. They had both wanted it.

When Harry looked back at the other couple, they were whispering to each other, Seamus
bent down close to Dean’s face, kissing every so often.

Harry then felt Ron shifting in his lap, he had moved onto his back and was now looking up
at him. Harry smiled, searching his eyes, placing a hand on the side of his face. He noticed he
still appeared dazed, but smiled back at him.

Harry leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. He
didn’t say it to hear it back. He only wanted Ron to know. When he straightened back up,
Ron had finally focused on him. “Hey, you.”

Ron took a few shaky breaths, and slowly sat up. Harry could feel the eyes of Dean and
Seamus on them, but he didn’t care. Nothing needed to be private at this point.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked again.

“Yeah,” Ron replied with a nervous chuckle, “I…well no, I’m a little bit sore…everywhere.”
He looked at the expression on Harry’s face and smiled. “It’s okay. Really. I wouldn’t want it
any other way.”

“Mm,” Harry sighed happily, and pulled Ron into him, “Good.” He smirked, unable to help
himself, and whispered, “My good boy.”

Ron shuddered against him. “Don’t do that,” he whispered back, sounding like he was
smiling, but pouting at the same time, “I need a break.”
“Sorry,” Harry replied, kissing him on the cheek, then on the forehead, “We should probably
move to one of our beds, though.”

“I’m fine here,” Seamus said across from them, his arm resting across Dean’s body from his
spot on his lap, “You’ve already shagged in it, might as well sleep in it.” Dean chuckled, then
they both adjusted to laying down, Dean resting his head on Seamus’s chest now.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then shrugged. Harry leaned over and doused the lantern
on the nightstand nearest to them. The moment he laid down, Ron pushed very close to him,
sliding his arm over his waist, and resting his cheek on his chest. Harry let out a small sigh of
happiness. Contentment.

“You sure you’re alright?” he whispered, just wanting to make absolutely sure.

“I’m sure,” Ron whispered, “I loved every second.”

“I thought so,” Harry couldn’t help saying, “Just wanted to check.”

Ron scoffed, and turned to kiss Harry’s chest before resting his head again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Just as they had both closed their eyes and began to fully settle, a voice cut through the
darkness.

“Hey, Harry?” it was Dean.

“Er,” Harry said, confused, “What’s up?”

“You think I could get that Chaser position now?”

~Fin
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