Title: Equi-Curiosity
Author: eeyore9990
Characters/Pairings: Ron, Bane
Rating: Hard R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Phallophilia
Other Warnings: Centaur!wank, Ron!wank, talking with one's mouth full
Word Count: ~1500
Summary/Description: How do Centaurs wank? Can they wank (in the traditional 'hands-on-cock' sense)? Ron Weasley investigates.
Author's Notes: You know, I never wondered about the mechanics of Centaur self-love until I fell into HP fandom. So… thanks, fandom. :D My life is now complete (until I start wondering about Erumpent mating rituals or some other such oddity.)

---

Ron paused with his fork halfway to his mouth when the thought hit him, and it wasn't until Hermione smacked his forehead with the back of her hand that he was able to focus once more. "What?" he asked, noticing for the first time the look of utter horror on Harry's face.

"There's something wrong with you," Hermione muttered, running her wand over him with one hand and digging around her satchel with the other until she produced a bezoar.

Ducking his head to avoid being poked in the eye with the business end of Hermione's wand, Ron glanced at Harry, a questioning look on his face.

"You... you stopped eating," Harry said, then gestured to the table where a bit of potato had splattered. "And you dropped some food."

Wiping the potato from the table with his bare hand, Ron leaned forward and said, "There's nothing wrong with me. I've just had the most… I dunno even know. A thought." When it became apparent that Hermione was choking with the need to make a snide remark, Ron groaned and said, "Not like that. I mean." Glancing around, Ron made sure no one was within hearing distance and then, for good measure, pulled out his own wand and cast a privacy spell around the three of them. "How do Centaurs wank? Think about it! Their cocks are way down there, and probably huge besides—have you ever seen a horse's willy when it's all… hang-downy? They'd have to get their whole upper half down there, reach under… How would it work?"

"Well," Hermione muttered, placing her own fork gently on her plate. "Now I know why you stopped eating."

Ron flushed, but pressed forward. "Come on, I'm serious! Harry, think about it…" But Ron didn't really need to say anything, because from the glazed expression in Harry's eyes, he was thinking about it. Turning to Hermione, he gestured with his hands—flinging a bit of potato onto her robes in the process—and said, "The mechanics of it must be impossible. But surely they wank. I mean. We all do, right?"

When he got nothing but blank stares in return, Ron shrugged and stuck his fork in his potatoes once more. One thing was certain, though. Whether Hermione and Harry were curious or not, Ron was going to find out just how Centaurs wanked.

---

"Are you still on about this?" Harry asked, rolling over in his bed to spear Ron with a look. "Who knows, mate? Who cares? They probably, I dunno, rub against a tree or something."

Ron immediately shook his head. "No, that wouldn't be wanking. Not proper wanking, anyway. That'd be… fromage."

"Fromage? Isn't that a type of cheese?"

"He means frottage," Seamus said, walking over to lean casually against the poster of Harry's bed. "And does this conversation mean you two are finally ready to confess your homoerotic passions for one another?"

"Shut up, Seamus!" Harry and Ron's voices blended as they both shouted at Seamus, Harry going so far as to chuck a pillow at him.

Ducking the pillow, Seamus scampered back to his side of the room, but not before calling out, "I see you're still in denial!"

"Anyway," Harry said, glaring across the room, "why are you so stuck on this? If you're really that interested, why don't you just ask Firenze?"

"Are you mad? I'd get chucked out of class and probably kicked in the head to boot! No, thanks." Ron frowned, chewing on his lip. "It's just… you know, once you get that thought in your head, you can't get rid of it until you know. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, mate. I mean, I don't exactly wander around contemplating how house-elves fuck, do I now?"

Ron threw up in his mouth a little. "Oh god, Harry, that's disgusting!"

"Well, so's this!"

"Oh, come on! It's nothing alike. Centaurs are… you know…" Unable to think of a good word, Ron shrugged and resorted to hand gestures. "House-elves," he said, "are definitely not."

"I'm not getting any sleep until your curiosity is satisfied, am I?"

Grinning, Ron said, "Probably not."

"Fine. Take my Cloak and go find out for yourself. But Ron, I'm telling you right now. I really don't want to know what you find out."

But Ron didn't hear him, buried as his head was in Harry's trunk, looking for the blasted Invisibility Cloak.

---

Finding the Centaur camp was easy enough. Getting one to wank was… not.

Ron had spent nearly every night of the past week spying on the Centaurs, just waiting for one to go off alone to see to himself, as it were. And so far, nothing.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Ron tried to find a comfortable position against the tree he was leaning on, but not so comfortable that he'd fall asleep. It was a bit tricky, but he finally found the perfect spot… just as the distant sound of hooves clopping away reached him, drawing his attention back to the herd.

The Centaur Bane was trotting rather stiffly away from the group Ron had been watching, his hindquarters twitching occasionally. Thus far, Ron hadn't seen any of the Centaurs break away from the herd, much less in so… odd a manner.

Hope rising in his chest, Ron carefully got to his feet and began to follow Bane through the Forbidden Forest, his wand clenched tightly in his fist. He was curious, after all, not suicidal.

After walking for a few minutes, keeping Bane just in his sight, Bane… disappeared. It was as if he'd been sucked into the ground, or fallen into a hole. Cursing under his breath, Ron hoped for the best and took off at a run.

He was nearly on top of Bane before he saw him. Thankfully, the night was filled with enough forest-y sounds to mask the noise of Ron's approach—though he'd been as careful as possible not to step on any twigs or splash through any puddles.

Bane hadn't fallen, as Ron had assumed; he'd merely dropped down to the ground, his equine body resting on its side while his upper, more human-looking half, was bent over it. One of Bane's strong hands smoothed over his flank, almost in a calming motion, even as his tail twitched, thumping the ground and trailing hair over Bane's forearms.

Ron gulped and dropped back behind a bush, even though he knew Bane wouldn't be able to see him under the Invisibility Cloak. Parting the branches of the bush, Ron peeked through… and what he saw made his jaw drop.

Bane's cock—though surely there was a better word for it than that, gorgeous thing that it was—was fully extended and nearly as long as Bane's hind legs. As Ron watched in awe, Bane twisted his upper half, bringing both hand around to grip his cock and he began a slow sliding motion with them up and down the length in a slow, gliding caress.

Breathing hard, Ron fumbled with his trousers. This was… bloody hell. This was just… there were no words to describe the moment, actually. It was at once the oddest thing Ron had ever seen and the most arousing thing.

Bane's milking of his cock never sped up, though Ron's hand on his own was moving so fast it was nearly a blur. But eventually Bane stilled, his hands grasping his cock near the root at his hindquarters began to hunch in an odd, jerky motion. The muscles along Bane's arms corded and Ron could see the tendons standing out in his neck just before he threw his head back and whinnied to the sky.

As Bane began to come in great spurts just a few meters away, Ron fell forward onto his hands and knees—likely leaving a human-sized indentation in the bush he'd been peeking through—and came all over the ground, his own scream of completion trapped in his throat.

---

"Well?"

"Well what?" Ron asked around a mouthful of eggs.

"You were back in the dorm by midnight last night, and you're eating again," Harry said, staring steadily at Ron. "You figured it out, didn't you?"

Ron couldn't stop the slow, knowledgeable grin that stretched across his face. "Yep."

"So?"

Raising his eyebrows innocently, Ron said, "So… what?"

"So how do they," Harry glanced around and lowered his voice, though didn't think to hide his hand gesture when he hissed, "you know?"

Ron picked up his pumpkin juice and drained it. "Well, I'm thinking if you want to want to know that, you can ask Firenze."

"Wanker! I let you borrow my Cloak!"

"And I was the one with a numb arse and no sleep this whole week. If you want to know, go see for yourself. Though I can tell you… it's definitely worth the wait."

Harry glared at him, though he tried to act unconcerned when he shrugged and said, "You'll tell me eventually. You're pants at keeping secrets."

Ron just shrugged and shoveled more food in his mouth. "Either that," he said, ignoring the fine spray of egg that spattered the table, "or you're welcome to come out with me tonight."

"You're going back?"

"After what I saw? Wouldn't miss it, mate. Wouldn't miss it for anything."