Ronarry One Shots

Of Blind Dates & Drunken Confessions

Summary: After yet another failed blind date for Ron, Harry tries to lift his best friend's spirits by getting pretty damn sloshed – not anticipating the drunken confessions it leads to...

Ships: RonWeasleyxHarryPotter

All credit goes to noxsoulmate on Ao3

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Harry finds him at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, exactly where the blind date was supposed to happen. Forty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry says as he drops into the open seat. "Better luck next time."

Ron scoffs. "No. There won't be a next time."

"But–"

"No," his friend replies with much more force, finally looking up at him. The intensity of his gaze pierces Harry's gut, just like it always does.

It sets in motion the same turmoil inside of him that it has since around their sixth, possibly even their fifth year together at Hogwarts. The turmoil Harry will never be brave enough to admit to feeling. Not only because Ron is his best friend but also because he has no idea how it would be received. Ron has never dated a guy, never even hinted at feelings towards men. True, Harry has also never fessed up to it, but...

But.

Harry pushes these thoughts aside – the same thoughts that always come to mind when Ron stares at him so intently.

"No," Ron says again, more calmly now but still with conviction. "This was the last time I let Ginny or Luna or Pansy or really anyone set me up on a stupid blind date again. Seriously, Harry, I think this one was the nicest one I had so far."

Harry frowns. "Wait, I thought you said she didn't show up."

"Exactly," Ron replies, finishing off his pumpkin juice in one go. "Probably saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. I mean, just look at my blind date history, look at the luck I had."

Harry takes a minute to think over all of Ron's blind date woes and shudders, unable to suppress the reaction.

Ron nods and repeats. "Exactly. So I'm counting the no-show as one of the best. Happy early birthday to me."

Harry rakes his brain for something to say but he comes up with nothing. He wants to console his best friend, he truly does; wants to tell him that the right one is out there waiting, that he just needs to keep looking. That just because he turns thirty-four tomorrow, it doesn't mean anything.

But on the other hand, well.

On the other hand, he wants to tell him that the right one is sitting right here, right across from him, right now. That he has been right here for most of their lives and that he will be here for the rest of them, for however long Ron will let him.

It's been so painful, watching Ron go on all these blind dates set up by the women in their lives; painful and heartbreaking. It always makes him feel like a shitty friend when another date fails and Harry can't help but be a little bit – just a tiny bit – relieved.

He sucks it up and concentrates on his friend instead.

"Alright," he says, all business-like as he leans forward. "What do you need? How can I help you?"

"Honestly? I just wanna get drunk."

"Then that's what we will do."

As a man of his word, Harry takes his mission seriously. Which is how they end up back at Harry's place, drinking Lemon Drop Cocktails – no one ever said you can't get drunk in a classy way, thank you very much – that probably hold way more vodka than necessary. Not that anyone cares as they gradually get more and more drunk, laughing and giggling like school kids over the stupidest things. They recount their days at school, laugh about some of their adventures, wonder how they survived others. They cackle as they think about their friends, all happily married or at least in stable, long-term relationships. It's either find the humour or cry, and they're too drunk to cry. At least that's what they decide, so they have no qualms laughing about them all.