Author: Mosh Title: From the Depths Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
"So... you okay, then?" Ron scuffed his feet on the floor, looking down. The corridor was empty, as was most of Hogwarts these days. The silence seemed like a heavy pressure closing in on Ron, and he figured Harry must have been feeling the same judging by his awkward posture. Why was this so hard? "Yeah, fine. You know." Harry bit his lip, looking up at Ron from under the fall of his dark fringe. "Look, Ron-" "It's all right." Ron tried to keep his tone measured. "I know you've been busy. What with... everything that's been going on." He was going to leave it there; he'd already decided that he wasn't going to moan at Harry about his absence, but now they were together, alone at last, Ron felt almost annoyed that Harry hadn't sought him out earlier. "You could have talked to me," he eventually added, against his better judgement. "You know I wanted to help, and even though I wasn't allowed to be there, you could have come to me afterwards." Harry sighed sadly. He looked so tired. More tired than Ron could ever remember. He suddenly felt bad, and wished he hadn't said anything at all. "I know. I'm sorry." Ron swallowed, feeling guilty for pushing Harry so soon after Voldemort's downfall. Shit. "No. I'm sorry. Come on," he said, reaching out and squeezing Harry's shoulder quickly. "Follow me." Harry caught his eye again, setting off an all too familiar spark in the pit of Ron's stomach. It really had been a long time since they'd spent time together alone, Ron realised. He'd missed it. Missed Harry. He wondered if things would ever be the same between them again. After all, Harry had a lot to deal with now, and it was going to take time for him to come to terms with the fact that he'd just survived a war in which so many others had died. And that he'd killed Voldemort. Strangely, Ron didn't feel as much relief about it as he knew he should. He supposed the constant exhaustion that was evident on Harry's face quelled any desire in him to celebrate like the others. "Where are we going?" Harry said, falling into stride with Ron as they made their way towards the stairs. "You'll see." Ron glanced sideways, and to his relief, Harry responded with a smile and roll of his eyes. "I think you'll enjoy it." "Oooh, intriguing." "Oh, shut up," Ron said with a short laugh, though to his dismay, he found himself having to force it.
"Mind your own business," said Ron, throwing the confused-looking stone wizard a scowl. He located the door he was after quickly, and whispered, "pine fresh," at it. It swung open with a soft creak, and before Boris could say anything else, Ron caught Harry's arm and pulled him through, bolting the door firmly behind him. "Check this out." Ron led Harry into the Prefects' bathroom, looking proudly around the spotless, white marbled room. It was Ron's favourite privilege as Prefect. There hadn't been many students around since the war had broken out, so Ron had found himself spending less time prowling the halls for students out of bed in the evenings, and more time in the bathtub. Usually wondering if his family were okay, and where Harry was. Well, Ron thought, I don't need to worry about that anymore. "Oh yeah," Harry said, staring at the wide, pool sized bathtub with a grin. "I've been here before." Ron raised an eyebrow. "Really? When?" Harry wandered towards the side of the tub, running his fingers over one of the gleaming gold taps that lined the edge. "Fourth year, before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Cedric... well, he told me how to crack the mystery of the golden egg. I came here to do it." "Oh, right," Ron said, feeling somewhat let down. "But this is cool." Harry twisted the tap a little, and a couple of dark blue bubbles squeezed out of the spout and floated off across the middle of the deep, empty pool. "So, are we going to get in, then?" "Right," Ron said with a nod, suddenly wondering if this was such a good idea. It had seemed like a plan, but then, he hadn't actually considered the fact that he'd be expected to swim too. He kicked himself inwardly; of course he couldn't just sit and watch Harry, and he couldn't just dump Harry there and leave, either. "What colour do you want?" "Huh?" Ron said, snapping out of his thoughts. "Bubbles? Which ones do you want?" Harry turned to face him, already unbuttoning his shirt. Ron cast his eyes down to his own shirt, which was now half-undone. He wondered when he'd started to undress. "Any... I don't mind." He struggled the last button out of its hole. "The blue ones are good." He heard the screech of the tap as Harry twisted it fully, then the rushing of water hitting marble. Ron risked a glance up, to see Harry sliding his jeans down his thighs. Ron knew that it really shouldn't have that effect on him - a feeling like someone had just wrapped their arms around his chest and squeezed hard. And he realised, with a mortified wince, that they were going to have to bathe naked, since he hadn't actually planned on doing this to begin with. He'd been so surprised to get a message from Harry to meet him, that he'd left the dorm room straight away. It had been three weeks since they'd seen each other. Well, three weeks since they'd spent time together alone. Harry had been down at base camp for most of the term, where the Order were still trying to find the few escaped Death Eaters who were on the prowl, no doubt to continue Voldemort's dirty work. Ron had wondered why the hell Harry had had to stay there so long after the final battle - he'd fulfilled his duty. "Hey, Harry?" "Mm?" "Are you back now, then? For good, I mean?" Ron didn't tear his attention from his belt, half not wanting Harry to see his flush, and half not wanting to see Harry naked which would only make it worse. "Yeah," Harry said. Ron heard the dull thud of Harry's shoes hitting the tiles, then the muffled hiss of his trousers following shortly after. "The others are taking care of the loose ends. They said I should try to get back to my normal life, you know, how it was before." "Oh, good." Ron wondered how Harry could even consider his life before the war as normal, what with being hunted by the most psychotic wizard of the age. Normal was now, starting from the moment Harry had fired the killing curse and ended it. The very thought still made Ron's stomach turn over. Harry, alone with Voldemort. He felt the prickle of cool air against his skin, and, finding himself down to his boxers, he brushed these thoughts aside. He heard Harry descend into the pool with a faint splash that was almost inaudible under the steady gush of the tap. Embarrassed, Ron turned to the side a little, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his underwear. A fat, shiny blue bubble floated past him, lazily bobbing up and down in the air. Ron took a deep breath and slid his boxers down. Just go over and get into the bath, he told himself, Harry won't be looking, just do it quickly. He finally got his legs to work, but when he glanced at Harry - who was edging around the pool, half immersed in water and bubbles - he found him looking back. Ron felt that earlier flush make a violent reappearance. Harry coloured too, looking away quickly. Fuck. Ron slid into the steaming water, thankful to finally be concealed under it. They floated silently around the pool for some time, Ron wondering what Harry was thinking, and Harry seeming oblivious to the glances Ron couldn't seem to stop casting him. He looked skinnier than ever, paler too, though Ron supposed that Harry's sudden, long over due growth spurt hadn't helped in that department. And the war, of course. Once the water was almost up to their chests, Harry swam over to the tap and turned it off. Some of the larger bubbles had popped, but there was still a thick layer of them covering the water's surface. Ron liked them. Mostly because they were blue and smelled faintly of fruit, but also because they were calming to look at. He scooped some up into his hands and blew, sending a flurry of tiny bubbles across to the centre of the pool. He heard Harry laugh quietly, and turned to find him watching from the side, large green eyes for once relaxed and amused. Ron offered a grin back, but it felt so odd to be spending time with Harry that he knew his smile hadn't touched his eyes. Why did he still feel like there was something off? They'd talked already, they'd cleared the air, why was there something still amiss, Ron wondered. He tried to shake the feeling off, ducking under the water until he couldn't hold his breath any longer. When he emerged, spluttering and brushing his wet hair back from his forehead, Harry had moved closer. Way too close: Ron could see droplets of water tracking pathways down the smooth curve of Harry's neck, twisting inward and running down across his collarbone. Ron's heart seemed to thump against his chest, and he almost took a step backwards, though knew it would have been awful if he did. He held fast. Harry looked like he was about to say something, but nothing came. He blinked, to which Ron blinked back, deciding that this whole thing was indeed a bad idea. "Ron-" "Harry-" Any other time, Ron would have laughed, but for some reason, he didn't find it funny. Harry seemed to drift closer still. "So..." Ron started, but he didn't know what to say. What the fuck is going on, he wanted to shout, why is this so difficult? Why didn't you get in touch sooner? Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to talk to you? I hate them for what they made you do. I hate that you had to go and face Voldemort alone. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, and you just said 'goodbye' like we were going to see each other the next day. Do you have any idea? But he couldn't get anything past the lump in his throat. Until Harry pressed forwards, curling his arms around Ron's neck, catching Ron's small shout of surprise in his mouth. Well, fuck. Ron froze, Harry froze, their lips pressed together, still. Then Harry's fingers gently brushed up along Ron's neck, threading though his hair, urging him. Ron gave up trying to work out how this had happened, and found himself leaning towards Harry, his arms sliding comfortably around Harry's slick and warm waist, their lips moving slowly together, just the lightest of touches, as if they were testing the water. Ron had not been expecting that at all, but it suddenly felt like the ache that had been constantly nagging him was pouring out from between his lips and dying in Harry's mouth, on Harry's tongue and in the moan he made as he walked Ron back towards the edge of the pool, their movements seeming to happen in slow-motion from the heady heat and pressure of the water. Harry broke away to whisper, "I'm sorry," but before Ron could even gather his voice for a response, he was kissing Harry again, because he honestly didn't know how to say that it was okay and that Harry really didn't have anything to apologise for. Harry rotated his hips lightly, pulling a moan from Ron's throat as their erections slid together, and oh God, it wasn't enough. Ron ran his hands down the damp curve of Harry's back, crushing him closer, wondering how long he could go without having to breathe properly if it meant that Harry's tongue would keep doing that slow, rhythmic slide against his own. And it just kept getting deeper, until Ron thought that he might not be able to stop. Ever. Harry pulled back, and Ron found himself automatically following, but stopped when Harry moaned, "Touch me." Oh God, this can't be real, Ron thought, no way can this be real. Harry closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Ron's, breathing quick bursts of air against Ron's mouth. Ron couldn't seem to get his arms to work; he wondered if perhaps the water was too hot, because he couldn't think straight. Touch Harry. He took a deep breath, then ran his fingertips around Harry's waist, marvelling at how smooth and soft his skin was there beneath the ridge of his hipbone. Harry's cock was thick and solid in his hand, and Ron watched fascinated as Harry's eyelids fluttered, and his mouth opened with a gasp. He stroked once experimentally, and Harry shuddered, pulling his lower lip behind his teeth. "That's amazing," Ron muttered before he could stop himself. Harry's mouth quirked at the sides. "This okay?" Harry nodded, rocking his hips forwards, sliding his cock into Ron's hand with another, much louder gasp. "Here," he said quietly, returning the gesture. "Oh-holy-fuck," Ron moaned, "Oh, God..." Harry brushed his lips against Ron's, fisting his cock with long, slow strokes that seemed to be pulling Ron's orgasm lazily from the depths of his body. It was perfect. Ron wondered why they had never done this before, and when exactly he had resigned himself to the fact that he thought of Harry as more than a friend. It had never even registered, he realised, until Harry had gone away. He brushed his cheek against Harry's, leaning down to kiss his neck, then shoulder, biting down when Harry thrust forwards and swore against his ear, arching into the tight slide of Harry's hand. And soon they found a rhythm, moaning and rocking together, hands working faster while teeth clinked gently and tongues pushed against each other with an increasing insistence. Harry broke away, moaning, "Come, now... with me..." Ron felt as if he'd suddenly been wrenched from a smothering pressure, coming hard while Harry continued to stroke his cock throughout, hearing his own voice as if through wool as he tried to say what he was feeling, but couldn't, and it just seemed to go on and on until Ron was drawing in ragged breaths, holding on to Harry, dimly feeling the heat and movement of Harry's cock in his palm, hearing Harry moaning curses as he rolled through his own orgasm. Ron buried his face into Harry's damp hair, pulling him closer, the rise and fall of his chest growing steadily slower as he caught his breath. He would have been contented to stay there all night, but as he listened to the fizzing of the bubbles as they slowly ebbed away, he became aware that the water was growing tepid, and realised that they must have been still like that for a long time. He sighed, pressing a kiss to Harry's neck. "Glad you're back." "Yeah," Harry murmured, sounding sleepy. Though when he straightened, his expression was serious, if not a little grave. "I've got loads to tell you. Some good stuff, some bad." Ron nodded. "I know." They climbed out of the pool to dry off, though Ron found it hard to stop kissing Harry now that he knew he could. The sky outside was dark when the made their way out into the corridor, the only sound breaking the silence of the castle was the wind, as it whipped against the walls. Ron shivered, pulling Harry closer as they headed towards Gryffindor Tower. He felt Harry's arm slide around his waist and smiled to himself. It really was about time they caught up with each other. ~Fin~ |
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