Title: Releasing the Hounds
Author: eeyore9990
Characters: Ron Weasley/Harry Potter's bewbies
Rating: R
Warnings: more slashy than het but not really, unfortunate come shots, tit wanking
Themes/kinks chosen: Breasts
Word Count: ~3100
Summary: It's all about the tits... and that makes it okay. Right?
Author's notes: Undying thanks go to leela_cat who choked down her revulsion at the thought of Ron in any sort of sexual situation to beta this for me. Also, this is my very favorite bunny ever, I think. :D I had way too much fun writing this. *glee*

---

"Ow, fuck!"

The muffled voice came from the other side of the door to the Gryffindor dorms. Right on the other side, as Harry had inadvertently opened said door smack into the distraught person. So much for sneaking in.

The door was yanked from his grasp to show Ron standing there on one foot, massaging the toes of the other with the hand not steadying him on the door. "Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry awkwardly crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide his... things. "I didn't think anyone was in here. Sorry," he mumbled, avoiding Ron's eyes as he edged around him and into the room.

"Well?"

Harry stiffened, his steps dragging to a halt beside Seamus' bed. "Well, what?" he asked, knowing his tone sounded far too aggressive. Ron didn't deserve his anger, but he really, really didn't want to talk about...

"Well, let's see them!" Ron said, his voice much more excited than it should have been. He bounded around in front of Harry, eyes gleaming as he stared at Harry's chest.

"What?"

"C'mon, mate! It's not every day we get a free pair to play with! Get them out! I want to see."

"Ron." Harry's voice was flat and hard.

Ron's gaze shifted from Harry's chest to his face for a split second before the power of Harry's newly acquired breasts pulled it back down again. "Harrrrry," Ron whinged. "I want to see them."

The absurdity of the situation hit Harry then and he dropped onto his back on Seamus' bed, laughing until he had to clutch his sides. "Oh, God, Ron. It was fucking awful. And Snape was just smirking the whole time, and then these fucking things popped out and all I could think, the entire time, was that it was going to be horribly awkward. Because, come on, if me being a wizard is freaky, can you imagine what me being a wizard with tits is?! And then I just knew you'd be all weird about it and--"

"Harry, do you think you could have your existential crisis later?" Ron sat on the bed beside Harry, dipping the mattress so much that it forced Harry to roll into Ron's thigh. "We don't know how long you're going to have this amazing set of knockers, and really, I want to play with them before they go away."

"Existential crisis?" Harry asked, his mouth dropping open. Really, though everything Ron had said should have made Harry want to punch him in the mouth, Harry couldn't get past the fact that Ron even knew how to say existential crisis, much less what it was.

Staring at Harry's chest hard enough that Harry wondered if he was attempting wordless magic on his robes, Ron shrugged and said, "Hermione."

Ah. That made sense.

"Look, mate, I'm really not all that comfortable with the fact that I even have these bloody things, much less want to look at them."

"Close your eyes then."

"Ugh. Seriously, Ron..."

"If I had a pair, I'd let you see them." Ron flopped onto his back beside Harry and turned onto his side, resting his head on one hand as he poked Harry's hip and said, "Please?"

"You're not going to let up 'til I shuck my kit, are you?"

"I'll follow you around from now 'til they're gone, being as annoying as I know how to be--and remember, I've had a lifetime of experience living with Percy--until you give in and let me see them."

He would, too, the prat. Harry rolled his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Okay, fine, but if I do this, you owe me..."

"Yes! I'll do whatever you want, mate! I promise!"

Stomach twisting with nerves, Harry slowly unbuttoned his robes down to his waist and pulled his arms from them. Thankfully his button-down school shirt was large on him normally; his new breasts were rather on the extreme side of humongous, at least to Harry's eyes.

"Wait," Ron said, and Harry looked up in surprise. "I just want to... remember this moment. My first pair of real tits." He pressed one hand against his groin, and Harry jerked back in shock.

"Eww! Ron! Oh my God, tell me you're not getting off on this!"

"What? Of course I am! Bloody hell, Harry. Tits! How are you not off wanking over yourself right now, is what I want to know!"

Harry's mouth dropped open, and then he closed it, thinking. Really, what Ron was saying did make a lot of sense... "Loo, now. I need a mirror!"

They scrambled off the bed, Harry's robes tripping him up for a moment before he was able to fight his way out of them, and then they were pushing against one another, both trying to get through the doorway at the same time. They came to a halt in front of the wide mirror that hung over the sinks, both of them staring reverently at the place where Harry's breasts strained the material of his shirt, threatening to send his buttons pinging around the room.

"Sweet mother," Ron moaned--and Harry really hoped he wasn't having some sort of childhood flashback, because... eww--just before he sank to his knees on the floor. "Harry, mate..."

Ron was tall enough that Harry didn't have to remove his eyes from the mirror to meet his pleading gaze, even in his current position. "Yeah?"

"May I?"

Harry frowned, uncomprehending and turned to Ron. "May you what?"

"May I release them? Please?" He brought his hands up, clasping them beneath his chin. It would have been far more effective if he'd managed to drag his eyes off Harry's massive tits, but really, Harry couldn't blame him.

"Ron," Harry intoned, his voice as serious as he could make it. "You may release the hounds."

Ron unclasped his hands and wiped them on his trousers before reaching for Harry's shirt. Pulling it free of his waistband, Ron carefully smoothed the material and then slowly began to slip the buttons free. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead, prompting Harry to say, "All right there, mate?"

"It's just... the anticipation might do me in."

Harry's shirt, by this point, was unbuttoned to his abdomen and they both held their breath as Ron struggled to slip the next button from its hole. "Sorry," he muttered, forehead furrowing in concentration. "The material's a bit tight. Ah, there."

"Wait!" Harry said, and then moved them both so that he'd be able to see the grand unveiling as it happened. "Okay, go ahead. Just the shirt, though. I mean, let's not... uncover them until the whole thing is undone."

The next button was even more stressed, and Harry swore he heard his shirt sigh with relief when the button was finally freed.

After that, it was fairly easy, as Harry's breasts seemed to shift downward and squish in a bit once the straining material of his shirt was no longer supporting them.

"Wrists," Ron said, a tone of command in his voice.

"Err, what?"

"Give me your wrists. I'm going to undo those buttons, too. Then I'll take the whole thing off in one go. You know. Ta-da?"

Harry laughed, and the jiggling of his breasts nearly foiled their plan completely, but though his shirt parted enough for them to see his... well, his cleavage, it didn't slip any further. They did, however, spend several awe-filled moments staring at the creamy, taut skin of his inner-breasts before Harry tugged on the wrist Ron still had in his grasp.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

The moment had come. Harry caught his lower lip between his teeth as Ron stepped behind him. Their eyes met in the mirror and they exchanged rather loopy grins before Ron grasped the cuffs of Harry's shirt, muttered, "Ta bloody da," and whipped the shirt off Harry's body.

Simultaneous gasps told of the bounty they'd uncovered, and Harry couldn't stop himself from sliding his hands under them, lifting them so he and Ron could appreciate them in all their buxom glory.

"Oh my God. They're the most perfect things I've ever seen," Ron said in a hushed whisper. "Can I...?" Ron's hands hovered awkwardly in the air on either side of Harry's body and, feeling magnanimous, Harry nodded almost regally. Circling around Harry, but not standing in his line-of-sight, Ron gently ran the tip of one finger from the very top of Harry's left breast all the way down to the place where creamy skin began to darken. "And... and the...?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, why not?" But when Ron's finger rubbed over the nub, Harry gasped, startled at the pleasure that shot to his groin. "Bloody hell!"

Ron snatched his hand back, face crumpling with horror. "What?!"

"No, nothing! I mean. It's just. It felt, uh." Harry blew out a breath and grimaced. "It felt good," he mumbled. Then, wanting to see what would happen, he changed his grip to free up his thumbs and forefingers. He lightly squeezed the now-hardened nipples and gasped anew at the sensations that flooded through him. "Fuck!"

Ron's hands joined his, and it was a bit weird, but at least he was holding the bloody things up so Harry could explore at his leisure. He continued to pinch and pull at his nipples as Ron sighed, the sound blissful, and leaned forward, nuzzling his face between them.

"Bzuuuh? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Harry asked, jumping backward and wincing when his breasts dropped out of Ron's hands, bouncing against his chest. "Ow."

"Sorry, mate, they're just... they're so bloody perfect. I couldn't help myself."

"That's just wrong, Ron." When Ron snickered, Harry rolled his eyes.

"Harry, it's not like it's you. I mean... they're just there. A gift from some benevolent god. If we didn't take advantage of this opportunity, what would that make us?"

"Normal?" Harry ventured.

"You're out of your mind, mate! These are breasts." He reached out and ran a loving finger along the side of one. "They're meant to be treasured." Harry tried hard not to look too skeptical, but Ron obviously noticed. "Think of the things we could do with them!"

Harry looked down at his chest. "Uh. I think we've pretty much covered all that."

"No! There's so much more we could do." Harry backed away from the fervour in Ron's eyes.

"No... no we couldn't."

"Oh yes we could!" Ron gripped Harry's shoulders, shaking him lightly--probably just to watch his breasts jiggle.

Harry blew out a breath and decided to play along. "Like what?"

Ron licked his lips and whispered, "Have you ever heard of tit wanking?"

At the words, an image formed in Harry's head and his breath caught even as his cock stirred. Yanking himself away from Ron, he ran back into the dorm room and climbed onto his own bed, pulling the curtains closed. Quickly shucking his trousers and y-fronts, he grabbed his cock and worked it until it was fully hard. Sitting up, he rolled his back and shoulders as much as he could, trying to get the tits closer to his cock. When the firm flesh of one breast finally touched the head of his cock, Harry squeezed the breasts together, trying to capture his cock completely between them. As his cock bobbed free, Harry winced and pushed harder against the breasts and curved his back even more, gasping at the pain that sent shooting up his spine and into his neck.

Giving up, he fell back to the bed with a groan. "It doesn't work!" he shouted.

The curtains parted and Ron's head appeared. "Not bendy enough?"

Harry shook his head, disappointed and still achy enough that his cock was rapidly losing interest.

"Erm." Ron coughed and scratched the back of his neck, eyes averted from where Harry's cock lay against his thigh, but still managing to gaze worshipfully on his breasts. "Mind if I try?"

"Honestly, it's a bit painful. Even if you were pushing on my shoulders, I don't think it'd work."

"Yeahhh... see, that's not quite what I had in mind."

Harry tilted his head, blinking in confusion at Ron before understanding dawned. "What?! No! Oh my God, Ron, you can't possibly be suggesting...that!"

"Pleeeease, Harry?"

"You already owe me a kidney for letting you look at them!"

"I'd do it for you!"

"You've said that before, but I don't know how you can possibly think our situations would ever be reversed. I mean... this was an accident."

Ron got a thoughtful look on his face that sparked terror in Harry's heart just before he said, "But you were Neville's potions partner. Right?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and said, "Yesss," even as he grabbed the blanket on his bed and pulled on it, trying to get enough of the material to cover himself with.

"And you know what he put in. And what stage the potion was at when he did it, right?"

The bad feeling was getting worse. Harry put his hands over his face. "Yes," he said, the sound muffled.

"We could make a bloody fortune, Harry! Just think of it! All those blokes out there, breast-starved! We could bring this to the masses and..."

"Ron!"

"Hmmm?"

"If I let you do this--" he shuddered "--will you promise to forget you ever had that idea? Please? I do not want to end up in Azkaban!"

Ron's "I promise" was out of his mouth so fast his lips barely moved.

Harry gulped. "Uh." Fuck. What now?

Ron moved one hand to the button of his trousers and Harry meeped, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling as he listened to the sound of Ron's zip being lowered. "Oh, God, are we really doing this?"

"Fuck yeah."

Harry made a face. "What should I do?"

"Lie back. Maybe hang your head off the edge of the bed? And I'll just slide right in there between those beautiful things."

Harry thought about that for about a second before he shook his head violently. "No! I mean, eww. Your... stuff... will be hanging in my face."

Silence descended as they both thought about the logistics of their situation.

"Okay, so lie back and I'll just sort of kneel over you. You'll need to push them together though, because I'll have to hold myself off you."

Harry sighed and lay back. "You know, I think I'm still going to hang my head off here," he said. "I really don't want to... see. You mind?"

"Don't care, Harry. Really. Just want the tits."

Harry let his head fall back before he rolled his eyes. "You so owe me for this."

"Yeah, I know," Ron said, his voice shaky and rough-sounding. "God, Harry. This is fantastic."

"You haven't done anything yet."

"Anticipation, mate."

"Whatever. Just hurry up and get it over with."

"Push them together for me?"

Harry reached to push the breasts together just as he felt something warm and firm bump against his chest. Oh, God, it's his... Harry's face screwed up even as he gingerly pushed the breasts together with just the tips of his fingers. He didn't want to get any closer to Ron's tackle than he had to.

Harry wasn't sure if it would be worse to hum to himself or just lay there quietly. Each option just seemed so very wrong, but the sound of Ron's breathing as he worked his... No, no. Harry wasn't going to think about what Ron was doing.

At all.

Ever.

Ron went still, and Harry had a moment to feel panic that he might be coming before he heard Ron say, "Er, do you have any...?"

"Any what? And, oh my God, can you please hurry? Seamus and Dean are going to come back some time!"

"I know! And I'm trying. But it's not very... comfortable--"

"You think?!"

"I just need some lube, or some lotion or something. Do you have any?"

"Bedside table, drawer."

Ron sighed in relief and the bed jostled as he went after the bottle of hand lotion Harry kept for furtive, late-night wank sessions. As he listened to the sounds of Ron fumbling with the bottle, Harry began to panic all over again. "Oh, Christ, I can't believe we're doing this! We're going to get caught. Someone's going to walk in! I can't believe they haven't already. Jesus, Ron, hurry the fuck up! If someone comes in, they're going to think we're... that you and I are... and--"

Ron poked Harry in the side--please, God, let that have been his finger!--and said, "Oy! You could do worse!"

"Really? Really? Fantastic time to come out to me, Ron!"

"What? No! I'm not... you know I'm not..."

Harry lay stiffly on the bed, lips pressed together so he wouldn't beg Ron again to hurry the fuck up already. And then he had time to curse himself for the warming charm he kept on his lotion when Ron squirted it on his chest--the other is going to feel just like that--before Ron was sliding through the goop again.

"Oh yeah, that's better. So much better. Tighter, Harry. C'mon, mate, push them... yeaaaaaah."

Harry cringed as the bed shook, Ron's breathing coming faster and faster, now interspersed with whimpers and moans and then, "Oh, god!"

The cry sounded pained, and Harry raised his head... just in time for a splatter of come to land squarely in his eye.

"Owww! Owww, dammit, Ron! Gah! Owww! How could you do that? You came on me!" Harry scrubbed at his eye, trying to rub the stinging pain from it.

"Shhh! Keep it down, mate," Ron said, his voice sounding sluggish. "Sorry, but why the bloody hell did you look up?"

"It sounded like you were hurt!" Harry blinked furiously as tears filled his throbbing eye.

"Oh. Well. No."

"Ugh. Ugh. I have to go shower. I can't believe you came on me. Ugh." Stomping toward the door, a wicked, evil thought coalesced fully-formed in Harry's head and he paused. "Oh, Ron?"

"Mmm?" Ron murmured, voice already heavy with sleep.

"Remember how you said you'd do anything?" Taking Ron's silence as an answer, Harry said, "I always wondered what getting sucked off would feel like..."

Ron's loud snores—much louder than normal, and honestly, did he think Harry was that stupid—filled the room, until Harry snorted and turned toward the showers.

"I'm being nice, here," he muttered loudly. "'S not as if I've ever fucked anyone, now is it?"

The thump of Ron falling out of bed was the most satisfying sound Harry had heard all day.