Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/61393.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Ron_Weasley
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Ron_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-01-08 Words: 2024
****** Fool's Mate ******
by snakeling
Summary
     Harry is disturbed by something he saw. Ron is determined to show him
     that there is nothing to be upset about.
Harry was in Flourish and Blotts, turning the corner to the Transfiguration
section, when he nearly bumped into the couple. He was carrying a rather high
pile of books and nearly dropped them to the floor, only avoiding a fall
through completely ungraceful acrobatics.
Once he had stabilised his books, Harry looked up, ready to berate them, but
his words died in his throat as he actually took a good look at them.
They were kissing, oblivious to the world, and of him, kissing with an abandon
more suited to their own bedroom than to the busiest bookshop in Diagon Alley.
From where he stood, Harry could see their closed eyes, their tongues sliding
together, their hands blindly mapping their bodies, curling to cup and squeeze
each other’s arse.
To his complete mortification, Harry felt himself grow hard. It shouldn’t have
looked and felt that intense, that arousing. It shouldn’t, because the people
kissing were both men.
But it had.
===============================================================================
Ron was standing at the till alone, a pile of books at his feet; both Hermione
and, uncharacteristically, Harry had disappeared among the shelves. He heard
someone running and looked up to see Harry racing down the stairs.
“All right there, Harry? You look a little flushed.”
“I—”
Just at that moment Hermione appeared, a stack of books floating behind her.
“I’ll tell you later,” Harry said, lowering his voice.
When all books were paid for and shrunk to a more manageable size, the three
friends went back to the Burrow, Hermione taking Harry with her for a joint
apparition.
“I can’t wait for my birthday, to get my licence.”
“Only one week to wait. It’ll be here soon,” Hermione said sagely. “I’m going
to get a headstart with those books. What about you?”
Ron shrugged. “Dunno. You up for a game of Quidditch, Harry?”
“I don’t know.” Harry frowned, thinking about it, and Ron remembered that Harry
wanted to speak to him; Quidditch wouldn’t be the best activity for that. “I’d
prefer to play chess, actually.”
“Fine with me.”
They all walked upstairs, separating on the third floor when Hermione went to
the room she shared with Ginny. The boys went to Ron’s room. Harry set up the
chessboard while Ron cast a spell to lock the door and wove a silencing charm
around the room.
“Now we can talk without being disturbed. Okay, spill.”
Harry took one of Ron’s pawns and one of his and closed his hands behind his
back. He hesitated.
“In the bookshop, I saw something that unnerved me.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “That much is obvious, mate. Left.”
Harry opened his left hand. It was his pawn and his chess set instantly took on
white livery, while Ron’s turned black. Harry took his time setting the pawns
on the board again, moving them incessantly until the little figures began to
protest.
“Harry, for God’s sake, what did you see?”
Harry flushed red.
“There were two men. . .” He pushed a pawn two squares forward.
“And?” Ron prompted him when he made no move to continue.
“They were kissing.”
“So?”
Harry’s head snapped up, his jaw falling open.
“It doesn’t disturb you?”
“No, why should it?”
Ron looked at the board. He pushed one of his pawn two squares forward, the
little figure glaring at Harry’s pawn, unable to capture it. Finally, Ron
looked up and realised that his friend was still looking at him in disbelief.
He shook his head and sighed.
“Another cultural difference, I suppose. What do the Muggles — no, scratch that
— what do the Dursleys think of men who have sex with other men?”
Harry’s face flushed even redder and he looked down. He reached out blindly and
pushed another of his pawns. The black pieces erupted in cheers and catcalls,
while Harry’s pieces lamented loudly. Ron sighed again.
“Honestly, Harry. . .”
Ron moved his queen to the edge of the board.
“Checkmate.”
Harry stared at the board in shock. “You’re kidding.”
“’Fraid not. Now, leave the board alone and come here.”
Ron tugged Harry down next to him on the bed. He wrapped an arm around Harry’s
waist and settled close beside him.
“Judging from the look on your face I imagine the things your Uncle Vernon has
to say about men together aren’t positive, but it’s different here.”
Uncomfortable, Harry wriggled, but Ron’s hold was solid.
“Your uncle is an idiot. Everybody experiments.”
“Experiments?” Harry said in a whisper.
Ron nodded.
“Sure, we sow our wild oats, screw anybody willing, male or female, and then
marry a nice witch and produce heirs.”
Harry was still trying to escape his friend’s embrace.
“What about those who don’t like women? At all?”
“Usually they marry anyway. Purebloods especially expect their kids to continue
the line.”
Harry nodded in understanding. Ron’s hand was stroking his flank and he finally
relaxed. Ron’s other hand moved to cup Harry’s jaw until Ron could look into
his eyes. He saw unease, but also anticipation and something he couldn’t
identify. Slowly, giving Harry enough time to push back if he wanted, he
brought his lips to Harry’s. They were dry and slightly chapped and answered
his kiss tentatively; Ron forgot all about the girls he had kissed, because
none of those kisses compared to this one.
Even as he responded to the kiss, Harry had grown rigid, his hands tightly
clenched on his sides.
“Shh,” said Ron against his lips. “Don’t be scared, Harry. It’s all right.”
Harry’s breath was coming out in shallow gasps that were as much panic as they
were arousal.
“You’re my best friend.”
“And I’ll become your lover if you let me. Relax.”
He pushed Harry back on the bed. Straddling his hips, Ron sat up and unbuttoned
his own shirt, pulling the flaps open.
===============================================================================
Harry let Ron push him against the pillows. His new position gave him an
unobstructed view of Ron, and a surge of warmth pooled in his groin at the
tantalising display of naked flesh. He raised a hand, strongly attracted to the
very small nipples peaking out from under the shirt, but let it fall before he
reached his objective. Ron had seen the move and he took Harry’s hand, placing
it on his chest and rubbing lightly against it.
Harry could feel the little nub growing harder under his palm, and he raised
his other hand to touch the other nipple. Experimentally, he flicked his thumb
against one nipple, and Ron moaned. Harry stopped, unsure what the moan meant.
Ron began unbuttoning Harry’s shirt. He slowly parted the folds, slipping his
hands under the fabric. Harry suddenly understood Ron’s reaction and he let out
a moan of his own as Ron brushed his nipples.
Then Ron bent forward, as if to kiss him, but the red head dipped beneath his
chin. He licked and suckled on the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck. Harry let
his head fall back, the better to give Ron access.
Ron moved even lower, nipping at the collarbone, licking and kissing until he
reached his goal. He put his pursed mouth around Harry’s nipple, not actually
touching it, but enclosing it in the warm, damp cavern of his mouth. Harry
cried out in pleasure and frustration, clutching Ron’s head to his chest.
Finally, Ron closed his lips on the little nub, tugging on it, licking and
nipping lightly, causing Harry to buck on the bed.
Ron moved until their erections were grinding together, separated by their
trousers. Harry was mindless with need. Nothing more existed than the mouth on
his chest and the hard cock against his own. He ground his hips even harder
against Ron’s as his orgasm overwhelmed him. White lights exploded behind his
closed eyes and he felt himself come, soaking his still fastened trousers. Over
him, Ron kept grinding for a few seconds more, then shuddered his release.
They remained in the same position for a few long minutes, enjoying their
closeness in the afterglow. Finally, feeling pinned, Harry wriggled out from
under Ron, who rolled onto his side, raising himself on an elbow. With his
other hand, he caressed Harry’s cheek. They smiled at each other without
talking. After a moment, Ron reached to take his wand from the bedside table
and cast a cleaning spell on both of them.
Harry knelt on the bed, towering over his friend.
“I want to see you naked,” he said, biting his lip in uncertainty.
Ron unclasped the button of his Muggle jeans, then deliberately let his hands
fall on either side of him, looking up with an encouraging grin. Harry reached
for the zipper and pulled it down slowly, smiling as Ron’s fists clenched in
the bed sheets.
Abandoning the jeans for a moment, he trapped Ron’s arms by pushing his shirt
down to his elbows. Grinning widely now, he pulled the jeans down, helped by
Ron lifting his hips off the bed. Harry made short work of trainers and socks
and finally his friend was naked except for underwear and bunched up shirt. The
shorts did nothing to hide an impressive bulge and Harry’s eyes lingered on it
until Ron said in a strained voice, “Well, do something about it!”
Instead of obeying, or even answering, Harry scrambled off the bed. Making sure
Ron could see him, he slowly began to remove his own shirt.
Ron looked at him wide-eyed for a second and then sat up, struggling to
extricate himself from the rest of his clothes.
“Don’t!”
The words snapped in the silence of the room and Ron froze.
“Harry. . .”
“No. You stay on the bed and leave that shirt as it is, or I’ll leave. I mean
it, Ron.”
With a muffled cry of protest, Ron obeyed and fell back on the bed. Harry took
his time undressing, until Ron’s shorts threatened to split from the pressure.
At last, Harry was naked and Ron moaned at the sight. Harry climbed onto the
bed, settling in the space between Ron’s spread legs. With a light finger, he
traced the contours of Ron’s erection through the fabric, causing him to
involuntarily buck his hips.
He reached for the elastic band of Ron’s shorts and slowly, agonisingly,
stretched it, pulling it over his cock, and then carefully releasing it between
cock and balls. Ron let out a muffled protest that transformed into a moan when
Harry bent his head and put his lips on the skin of his cock just above the
fabric.
He trailed his open mouth up and down the underside of Ron’s cock, relishing
the sounds he pulled out of him. Harry took the head between his lips and began
to suck lightly, using a hand to knead the balls through the light cotton of
the shorts, while the other reached upward to twist a nipple. Even with the
elastic of his shorts acting like a cock-ring, Ron was a seventeen-year-old
boy, and it wasn’t long before he spilt himself in Harry’s mouth.
===============================================================================
In his post-orgasmic daze, Ron felt Harry carefully ease the shorts off his
genitals and down his legs, as well as freeing his arms from the shirt. He
curled up against Harry and started when he felt something hard poke him in the
thigh. Ron turned on his side and took Harry’s hard cock in his hand. He
squeezed experimentally, making Harry suck in a breath.
Harry clasped his hand against Ron’s neck and plunged his tongue in his mouth
even as Ron started pulling on his cock. Ron wriggled on the bed to give his
other hand access to Harry’s balls. He stroked them lightly, then dipped lower
on the perineum, and into the crease of his arse. A light touch to his hole
proved Harry’s undoing and he climaxed in Ron’s hand, his moan swallowed by
Ron’s mouth.
Languidly, they settled against each other in a comfortable position and fell
into a light doze. Ron suddenly went rigid and pushed back against Harry.
“Wait a minute. You were bloody sure of yourself all of a sudden for someone
who hadn’t a clue about gay sex!”
Harry only grinned wickedly and drew Ron back into his arms.
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