Title: Belated Birthdays are Better: It's Better to Give AND Receive!
Pairing: Ron/Draco, Hermione/Ron
Length: 3,008 words
Summary: When Hermione won’t come through, guess who does? The birthday boy of course!
Warning: First fic, slash, het, I-don’t-own-blah-blah-blah…
Notes: Written for hailiebu’s 69 Day Challenge and weaselandferret's Draco’s birthday challenges (hey I’m a housewife/motherof3/exteacher I mulitask!) This turned out MUCH longer than I expected. The intro scene with Ron/Hermione ended up being a lot. Beta'd by hailiebu.
“Ron? Are you up here?” called Hermione.
“Over here,” called out a voice off to her left somewhere. She looked around until she spotted a flash of copper in the moonlight.
“What did you need to show me this late?”
She let out a startled squeak as he pulled her onto his lap and proceeded to maul her with his lips.
She began to melt into his kiss, the familiar pleasure sweeping across her. His tongue was exploring the crevices of her mouth, his hands firm on her back. She sighed in the back of her throat and settled herself deeper into his lap. He gasped as her crotch rubs against his. One hand slid lower to cup one firm cheek through her light summer robes, the other crept up and began fumbling with her clasp.
Mmmm, what a wonderful way to spend a warm June night, a usually dull Thursday night…a Thursday night in June… a Thursday night in June with an Arithmancy exam the next day. Oh no!
She pushed against him, untangling her tongue from his.
“Ron! Is this what you dragged me up here for?” she huffed.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.
“We have exams tomorrow!”
“Oh come off it Hermione, we’re in our sixth year, we don’t have O.W.L.S or N.E.W.T.S!”
“Honestly Ron, that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t take our studies seriously! Don’t you want to get good marks?”
“I don’t care about marks. It’s nighttime, it’s June, school is almost out for the year, I just want to relax and have a little fun with my girlfriend – is that too much to ask?”
“Oh, so you’re saying that all I am is a bit of fun for you?”
“No I didn’t…”
“Well you may as well have. You act like I’m some house elf just here to serve you ever need!”
“Hermione, all I ‘m saying is -”
“No Ronald, I think you’ve said enough.”
“Urgh! You never let me finish a sentence. You are just a know-it-all tease who only thinks about her books!”
“Well you are just a good-for-nothing prat who only thinks about his dick!”
Hermione turned to huff back to the dorms when Ron reached out and gently grabbed her arm. “Hey wait.”
She stopped but refused to turn and look him in the eye, preferring to keep her arms crossed across her chest in a reminder of what he's not going to get tonight – or ever if he didn’t fix this mess.
“Hermione, look at me please,” he pleaded, putting every ounce of charm he had into those 5 words. “Hey,” he continued, emboldened by her continued presence, “you’re right. I am a prat and I was just thinking with my dick. I’m sorry. It’s just that school will be out soon and I won’t really get to see much of you this summer, and all this stuff with The Order and Harry are heating up – who knows what will happen? I just wanted to spend so time with you before we leave. I didn’t mean to get carried away so quickly; you just have that affect on me. C’mon Hermione! Look at me please! I don’t want to start our summer with a fight like this.”
Hermione remained rigidly turned away, making Ron really start to worry. Just when he was truly beginning to panic, she slowly turned around to face him.
“Oh, all right. I believe you. I guess you can’t be totally blamed for getting carried away – I was pretty interested too.”
“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, pulling Hermione forward once more.
“Hold it!” Hermione admonished, putting her hands up to Ron’s chest to halt this new assault. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to continue right now. We still have exams tomorrow and I want to get good marks even if you don’t.” She looked sternly at him but softened her gaze at the disappointed/hurt look on his face. “But I refuse to be called a tease – why don’t we continue this over the weekend? Truce?”
Ron chewed his lip, thinking her offer over. Hermione was beginning to wonder whether he really had to contemplate this or was this just a ploy to get some sympathy smooching out of her when he said, “All right. I guess I can live with that.”
“Fine, it’s settled then.” She turned to leave for good this time, “Are you coming?” she inquired as she looked over her shoulder at him.
“Naw, I think I’ll stay here awhile. Maybe have myself a good wank.”
“Ron! Honestly, that’s gross! And way too much information, thank you.”
“I was just kidding! But seriously you go on down. I’m just gonna veg here for awhile.”
Hermione just said, “Fine then,” and turned to leave. She hesitated for a moment on the first step, and Ron thought hopefully that she would change her mind and rejoin him, but she just squared her shoulders and proceed down the steps.
As soon as Ron was sure that Hermione was out of earshot, he lay back on the table with a groan. “Bullocks,” he cursed. He had a raging hard on. Actually, he’d had one for most of the day, which is why he’d been looking forward to spending some ‘quality time’ with Hermione.
As he lay there brooding over his sorry situation, his hand began to slowly stroke the offending member of his anatomy through his robes. His relaxed as the soothing movements gradually progressed to a more pressing feeling. He fumbled with his clothes until he finally had his bare cock in his hands, buttocks pressed firmly into the wood as he stroked himself harder and more vigorously. True, it wasn’t the exhilarating new feeling of Hermione’s small hands, but it was familiar and it was hot and he knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed. He lay there stroking, kneading, fingering, remembering, and he was about to progress to ejaculating when he was rudely interrupted by a bright flash and a familiar, sneering voice shouting, “Smile!”
He dropped his rigid and now even more frustrated cock and began to rub the spots out of his eyes when the voice continued, “Eww, Weasley. Don’t you realize where that hand has just been?”
Ron groaned inwardly as his fears were confirmed by his renewed sight and he now blinked unhappily up at a very amused Malfoy towering above him.
“What the fuck are you playing at Mal…,” he began and then he spied the offending object that had blinded him moments before clutched in Malfoy’s hands - Colin Creevey’s camera. “Oi! What the fuck do you think you are doing with that?”
“Why, taking your picture of course. It will look so nice wallpapering the Slytherin common room. Maybe I’ll make enough to do the Great Hall too.”
“You absolute Git! Give that here!” Ron seethed making a swipe at the camera.
Draco, aided by his seeker reflexes, dodged effortlessly out of the way. “Uh-unh Weasel. I don’t think so.” Tapping the camera with his wand he says a quick, “Evanesco,” before Ron could grab it.
Ron, enraged by this turn of events, lunged for Malfoy instead, screaming curses and death threats. Once again Malfoy glided effortlessly away from Ron’s flailing arms.
“You gonna kill me Weasel? Hmmm I wonder what Blasie will do when he finds that camera sitting on my bed with me nowhere to be found, hmmmm. His curiosity might just get the better of him and he will just have to develop the film to see what’s on it.”
“Malfoy, you really are completely twisted!”
“Thanks for the compliment, but I didn’t sneak in here tonight to argue with you Weaselby.”
“What do you want then?”
“I came to give you a present. A birthday present.”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“I know, actually it’s mine,” stated Malfoy with a suspicious smirk.
“Why should I care if your birthday is today?” Ron frowned.
“Actually it was 4 days ago on the 5th but I though you could give me my present today.”
“Who said I was going to give you anything? Besides you said you had a present for me.”
“Actually it’s a mutual gift.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Ron spat and started to leave. But then Draco uttered the words that froze Ron to where he was just at, as if Draco had cast the incantation for a binding spell.
“If you want that picture you will take what I have to give you and like it.”
Ron glared defiantly at Malfoy. “You can stuff that picture up your arse!”
“I am going to print so many of them that I will have enough to do just that,” quipped Draco.
Ron opened his mouth, undoubtedly to spit back another retort, but seemed to think better and instead bit out a terse, “What do you want then, Ferret.”
“I told you,” breathed Draco, stepping closer. “I want to give you a present,” he finished and kissed Ron on the lips.
Ron sputtered and shoved Draco violently away, “Geroff of me you poof!” He swiped his hand angrily across his mouth. “What the fuck did you do that for!”
Draco, completely unaffected by Ron’s violent reaction, replied, “Well as ‘touching’ as the earlier scene with your little girlfriend was, I am guessing that there wasn’t enough ‘touching’ involved or else you wouldn’t have been reduced to ‘touching’ yourself.”
“Sod off, Malfoy! That’s none of your business. At least I have a girlfriend, not that that matters to a fag like you.”
“Oh grouchy, grouchy. Don’t brag about that Mudblood girl of yours. Your little dog is no good to you. Too bad your bitch wasn’t in heat cause then you might have gotten laid.” Malfoy sniggered maliciously.
“Don’t you talk about Hermione like that you -” Ron’s angry words were lost in another astonishing Malfoy kiss. This time Ron was too surprised to act quickly. One minute Malfoy was spitting insults about Hermione, the next he was trying to suck Ron’s shoes up his throat. Draco took advantage of the hesitation to wrap his tongue possessively around Ron’s, making Ron sputter and flap weakly in protest. Just as Ron was mustering the wits to pull back safely out of the way once more, Draco did the unthinkable - well the even more unthinkable then he was already doing. He reached down and very firmly grabbed a hold of Ron’s cock, which had been lying forgotten, still naked in Ron’s lap.
Ron almost choked in shock and terror as Draco’s deft fingers started stoking his still hard - hey wait - why is it still hard? - and now throbbing dick.
“Ummmmmmmmm,” Ron moaned, kissing back subconsciously.
“There,” Draco pulled away to whisper, “isn’t that better?” He gave Ron a tug in just the right way.
Wow, I guess a guy really knows what to do, thought Ron. Hey wait, that’s not righ - Ron was startled out of his rather disturbing thought by something poking against his shoulder. Hey that can’t be his -
“Evanesco,” commanded Draco, tapping Ron’s robes at the shoulder. They vanished.
“Hey!” Ron began.
“Evanesco,” Draco repeated this time, touching Ron’s shirt and it too vanished.
“Evanesco,” he continued, as the hand not holding the wand distracted Ron with another tug on his now very interested cock. This time Ron barely noticed when his pants disappeared. As a matter of fact, the more Draco did with his non-wand-holding-hand, the less Ron noticed at all. He actually seemed to slip away to some blissful plane of existence, never to return until -
Draco had done the unthinkable, was doing the unthinkable again; Draco’s mouth was on his cock. Draco-poofing-ferret-Death Eater-lifelong enemy-Malfoy had his mouth on Ron’s cock! And all Ron could think of was to lie there and breath out unintelligible sounds like, “Ooomph!” and “Oooooooo!”
He lay there reveling in the feeling of Draco’s soft lips. And he was doing this thing with his tongue, making a tunnel with it, wrapping it, enclosing it, like a bun for those dog things Muggles eat or a case for a valuable scroll. It was there probing, licking. It was there grasping, touching. It was there and he was almost there and then it was not there.
“Hey!” protested a severely befuddled Ron.
“What’s the matter Ronald, can’t get enough of me, huh? So much better that that bitch of yours, aren’t I? A pureblood wizard will beat a mudblood witch any day – never forget that.”
Ron mumbled in protest, too aroused and confused to really comprehend Draco’s words. Reaching out with a freckled arm, he attempted to pull Draco’s head back down. Wanting to, needing to get the offending tongue wrapped back around his aching cock.
“Geez you ARE eager,” muttered Draco, “Hold on there. Just like a Gryffindor, always ready to take, take, take. But tonight you are going to learn how to give. Want to know why it’s better to get a present on 6/9 rather that 6/5?”
Ron, barely listening, shook his head impatiently, grabbing for Draco once again.
Draco leaned away and continued, “Because 6/9 is a very special day. A day for 69, which is a very special number. A number symbolizing mutual gift giving. Corny, I know, but fun – very, very fun.” He tapped his wand to his robes and incanted, “Evanesco totalus.”
Briefly, he stood before Ron in all his naked glory and then the tongue was back, and Ron was arching against the table, his buttocks pressing against the wood, Malfoy’s body smooth alongside his, Malfoy’s lips tight against the root of his cock, Malfoy’s legs straddling his shoulders, Malfoy’s dick pressing against his lips, Malfoy’s musky taste on his tongue. Wait, what the?!
Ron bucked up in panic, nipping Draco in his haste to be free, but Draco was prepared and pinned him back down with his strong legs.
“Calm down Weasley!” Draco spat Ron’s dick out to growl, “And if you bite me again I swear Pomfrey will have to reattach your penis with a permanent sticking charm.”
Draco waited for Ron to stop fighting before he went back to what he was doing. Doing rather well. Rather amazingly well. So well that Ron couldn’t remember what all the fuss was about. It was good to feel those smoldering lips around his shaft, that hand cupping his balls, those nails digging into his arse. Soooo good. Good enough to ignore the flesh in his mouth, persistently pushing, probing. Those hairs that were tickling his nose weren’t so bad. The taste wasn’t even as bad as Hagrid’s tea.
Besides, it was hard to think with that mouth moving faster and the dick pushing harder and the nails pinching rougher. All he wanted to do was thrust up into that mouth and pull down on those hips above him and listen to those mewling sounds Malfoy (he?) was making and just go with the pace as it took him farther and faster and Whoa! He was there. He was coming and his hand pressed down on Malfoy’s head (how did that get there) and his finger pushed into Malfoy’s arse (how did THAT get THERE) and he was still coming and then Malfoy was coming and (wait, Malfoy was coming in HIS mouth). That thought and the ensuing panic, and Malfoy’s momentary orgasmic state was enough to allow Ron to throw Malfoy off.
Draco momentarily glared at Ron, but at the sight of Ron hopping about with a mouth full of come that he did not know what to do with sent Draco into a fit of vicious giggles. “Just swallow it Weasel. My come is probably the most valuable thing you’ve ever had in your mouth!”
At the blatant reminder of what was in his mouth, Ron completely panicked and sprayed the offending substance everywhere, including the now fuming Draco.
“Arugggh! Dammit Weasley! You really are a complete cretin!” Draco snarled as he reached for his wand. “Scourgify,” he muttered over himself to clean up the sticky, dripping mess.
Ron was still sputtering and spitting as Draco flicked his wand and muttered the incantation to return his clothes to him. As he got dressed he glared over at the now gagging Weasley. “Oh stop! It wasn’t THAT bad. I swallowed yours for Merlin’s sake!”
“Yah, well I’m sure a poof like you has had plenty of practice!” Ron shot back.
“You will just never appreciate the finer points of gift giving,” Draco replied as he stretched languidly. “Why don’t you ponder that while I head off to bed? Bye Weasley.”
“Good riddance,” Ron murmured to Draco’s rapidly retreating form before he realized one very important detail he overlooked until just then. “Hey,” he shouted after him. “What did you do with my clothes?”
“I banished them,” came Draco’s faint reply, “You’re a wizard. Summon them back.”
“But my wand was in them you git!” Rob cried, and to his dismay there was no reply.
He quickly rushed down the steps, hoping to catch Malfoy before he got too far, but he stopped when he saw a package sitting on the steps.
“What?” Ron frowned at the brightly wrapped parcel, turning it this way and that, until he spied a tag. Pulling it off, he read, “You really are an idiot, Weasley. Open It!”
Inside were Ron’s clothes (folded neatly), the camera, and another note that said, “Happy Birthday to Me”