Title: Blackout
Author: gypsyflame
Characters/Pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Altered state orgasms
Other Warnings: Hate!sex; name-calling; infidelity
Word Count: 1,500
Summary/Description: Draco won’t admit why he keeps going back.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the_flic for the great beta, even though she’s not so much into Ron/Draco. ;-)



Draco Malfoy hated Ron Weasley. That was a universal truth.

Draco Malfoy often let Ron Weasley fuck him. That, while perhaps not universal, was also truth.

That those two truths would seem to be mutually exclusive was something that caused Draco no end of confusion. Sex was supposed to be something you did with someone you loved. Or liked. Or at least found attractive.

Draco wasn’t at all attracted to Weasley. The only thing he found more abhorrent than red hair was freckles, and Weasley had both in abundance; he was tall and lanky and moved without grace. If sometimes Draco’s stomach leapt at the sight of Weasley’s large, strong hands, or at the way his broad shoulders rolled under his Auror robes… well, that could be chalked up to disgust.

From time to time, Draco comforted himself with the knowledge that he had been drunk the first time. But then, he hadn’t been drunk the second time – nor the third, nor most of the dozens of times that had followed – so it was rather poor comfort. There were several other excuses he used to rationalize his behaviour. Maybe he was rebelling against his father, or delighting in getting one over on Granger, or showing the first symptoms of serious mental instability. The real reason was something Draco steadfastly refused to acknowledge.

The simple truth was that Weasley made Draco come harder than anyone else had ever been able to, and Draco couldn’t get enough.

***

The Minister’s mansion was perhaps not the most ideal spot for a tryst, especially considering that both of their wives were attending the ball as well. But when Draco had met Weasley’s gaze across the ballroom that night, the man’s eyes had narrowed in that way that always set Draco’s pulse racing, and Draco had found himself heading for the stairs within five minutes. A couple of hastily cast wards on one of the guest bedrooms later…

“Fuck, Weasley, put your back into it,” Draco demanded, pushing his hips up in an attempt to get Weasley’s cock deeper inside him. “Your sister could fuck me harder than this.”

“Shut up.” Weasley’s muscled chest was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, hands planted on either side of Draco’s shoulders as his own hips surged between Draco’s spread legs. “Why do you always have to talk?”

“I wouldn’t have to talk if you would do your fucking – mpfh!”

Draco’s muffled exclamation of outrage was prompted by the hand Weasley had slapped over his mouth.

“That’s better,” said Weasley.

Draco grabbed Weasley’s wrist, intending to throw the git off him, but then Weasley shifted just so, and Draco’s indignation melted. The new angle sent Weasley’s cock scraping over his prostate with every forceful thrust. Draco’s hand slid off of Weasley’s wrist and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Much better. But I like you more on your knees.”

Weasley pulled out abruptly. Draco groaned in frustration and kicked at him with one trembling leg, but Weasley just grabbed it and used his hold as leverage to flip Draco onto his stomach. With a long-suffering sigh, Draco pushed himself up on his hands and knees, spreading his legs and arching his back impatiently.

“Fuck, yeah, lift that arse up for me. Slut.”

Furious, Draco started scrambling away. Weasley lunged forward and caught him around the waist with one arm, using his other hand to guide his cock back into Draco’s arse. The moment the thick head breached Draco’s greedy hole, he was lost. He shoved himself back on Weasley’s cock.

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Draco said, in a last-ditch effort to salvage at least some of his dignity.

“Can’t help it.” Weasley smoothed his hands over Draco’s hips and back, setting the same quick pace as before. “You are a slut. You always want this so bad.”

“No more than you do.”

Weasley squeezed one of Draco’s arsecheeks almost to the point of pain. “Maybe not.”

There were no more words after that. Weasley took hold of Draco’s hips with both hands and fucked him brutally, hipbones knocking against Draco’s arse hard enough to bruise, cock pushing so deep inside Draco that it made him short of breath. Draco only lasted a few thrusts before he had to sink down from his hands to his elbows, forehead falling against the coverlet.

It was rising inside him already, that singularly hot, sharp pleasure that he only ever felt with Weasley, pleasure that blanked his mind and turned him into an entirely physical creature. All he cared about was getting more, more of Weasley’s cock reaming him open, more pressure against his prostate, more friction on his throbbing cock.

Draco gripped his swollen length and stroked it harshly, being as careless with himself as Weasley would have been if he’d bothered to give Draco a reach-around. He pushed his face into the bed to muffle his moans. Driven by mindless desire, he spread his knees further and pushed himself into every violent thrust.

“Yeah, move with me, baby, come on.” Weasley slapped Draco’s arse with one hand. “Come on.”

“Don’t call me baby,” Draco gasped out, as he always did, even though the condescending pet name – one of dozens Weasley had in his arsenal – never failed to heighten his own arousal.

Suddenly Weasley was bending over Draco’s body so they were pressed chest-to-back, his hips moving in circles instead of thrusting in and out. “What do you want me to call you?” he whispered into Draco’s ear. “Sweetheart? Darling?” He shoved his cock in deep and ground it against Draco’s prostate hard enough to make Draco see stars. “Whore?”

Draco moaned.

“That’s the one,” Weasley said, voice dripping with a thick satisfaction that made Draco want to hit him. “You going to come for me, whore?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk,” Draco snapped.

Weasley chuckled and straightened up, resuming his previous savage pace. Draco fisted one hand in the coverlet as he wanked himself furiously with the other, struggling to breathe through the intense pleasure. Weasley was battering his prostate, over and over again, until it was too much and Draco’s world exploded, fire racing though his veins. His body shook, his cock shot hard and fast over the bed, and Draco’s vision darkened as he lost consciousness.

When he came back to himself, it was to the sound of a harsh groan and the feeling of Weasley losing his load deep inside him. Draco took a shuddering breath, then whined in discomfort when Weasley pulled out. He lowered himself flat onto his stomach.

Draco kept his eyes closed as he listened to Weasley laying down next to him. His smugness over Weasley’s rapid, panting breaths was only somewhat tainted by the fact that his own breathing wasn’t any better controlled.

“It really freaks me out when you do that,” Weasley finally said.

“What?”

“Pass out like that.”

Draco cracked one eye open and fixed Weasley with a baleful glare. “I do not pass out,” he lied.

Weasley snorted, unfooled, but didn’t press the issue.

Draco shut his eye again and ignored Weasley, allowing himself a few moments to bask in the warm glow that came from being well and truly fucked. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this to Astoria – she could always tell when he’d had someone up his arse, and she took perverse pleasure in badgering him for all the details. She’d been dying with curiosity lately over who his “stallion of a lover” was. Draco had managed to avoid any specifics so far, but Astoria could be frighteningly persistent.

Weasley cleared his throat, interrupting Draco’s thoughts. “You’d tell me if I was being too rough, wouldn’t you?”

Draco’s eyes flew open in surprise. “You couldn’t be too rough,” he said, appalled by the very notion. Then, before he could stop himself, he added, “That’s not why.”

“No?” A slow smile spread over Weasley’s face. “Then why? Is it really just so good that you black out?”

That came far too close to the truth for Draco’s comfort. He rolled onto his back and sat up. “Don’t pretend it’s not good for you, too,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hey.” Weasley caught his arm and tugged until Draco was facing him again. “I’m only teasing. Of course it’s good for me. I wouldn’t keep doing this if it wasn’t, especially since it means having to put up with your mouth.”

“This isn’t healthy,” said Draco, but he let Weasley pull him back down onto the bed.

“I don’t care. You make me come so fucking hard, I’d put up with a lot more than your mouth.”

Draco’s lips twitched and he spread his legs so that Weasley could settle between them. “Careful what you say.”

“I’m not worried.” Weasley bit Draco’s neck, right where he was most sensitive. “Now, let’s see if I can make you black out again.”