Ronarry One Shots

Dulcify

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

Ships: RonWeasleyxHarryPotter

All credit goes to weasleyship on Ao3

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"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."