Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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4th October 2011 16:59 - Fic: Don't Die A Virgin [Ron/Draco, R]
Title: Don't Die A Virgin
Author: [info]sabethea
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: life-threatening situations: arousal from being in extremely dangerous/life-threatening situations,
Other Warnings: none, really
Word Count: ~1800
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts is raging, and so is Ron's sex drive. Surely he can manage to have sex before he dies in battle?
Author's Notes: Vast amounts of liberties taken with the book 7 Battle of Hogwarts. I suspect canon-lovers will find many issues with what I've written – sorry!

Ron was going to die. And that was okay with him, it really was.

Thing was, he was going to die a virgin, and that seemed – well, it seemed wrong, somehow. Unfair. Like he was missing out on something not just important, but kind of vital. And the trouble was, this was like, the battle, the big one and all that... and it was really annoying that all Ron could think about was not saving Harry, wasn’t anything to do with Fighting Death Eaters... it was “oh fuck, I’m going to die having never had sex.”

It was a pity, therefore, that the first person Ron bumped into after he'd thought this just happened to be Draco Malfoy. Who, weirdly, seemed not to be The Enemy any more (except he wasn't precisely a friend either) but was just – well, was just what? There. Available. Pretty hot for a guy.

Ron wished he hadn't thought that. He could really do without adding complications to his life like finding bloody Malfoy attractive. Especially given that this was neither the time nor the place... but then again, since it looked like there never would be a time or a place for Ron ever again, and Draco had practically run into his arms...

Ron wasn't quite sure what happened next, but somehow he was snogging Draco Malfoy in the corridors of Hogwarts with a fierce battle raging all around them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Draco's voice covered the range of about an octave in the space of six words, ending on what was precious nearly a squeak.

“Nothing,” Ron said hastily, dragging his hands away from Malfoy's shoulders and wishing he couldn't still feel the way Malfoy's lips had clung to his for a second or two.

“You kissed me.”

“No I didn't.”

“I never knew you wanted me so much.” Draco's drawl was back, albeit somewhat over-done.

“I don't want you,” Ron shot back, angrily. “I just want...”

“Want what, Weasley?” Draco's eyes had purple-black shadows under them; in any other circumstances Ron would have taken a sadistic pleasure in how ill the other boy looked, but that was kind of beside the point right now. “What is it that's worth you not trying to murder me yourself, and instead... well, making what looks like a pass at me?”

Ron could feel the red blush covering his face, even up to the tips of his ears. “I just don't want to die a virgin, okay? And you're the only person around here who isn't distracted by other stuff.”

“'Other stuff' being Weasley code for 'war on a scale neither of us have ever seen before', I gather,” said Draco lightly, before adding, his tone suddenly fierce, “And you're wrong, Weasley. I'd do anything in the world to save my parents. Do you get me? Anything. But since that doesn't seem to be an option at the moment, I think I could do with a little... distraction.” There was a pause, and Ron had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming next. He was right. “And you're a virgin?”

“Shut up.” Ron's ears surely couldn't get any redder, but they were so hot that he thought they might explode. “Look, this was a bad plan. A really bad plan. One of those plans which are so bad they can't get any badder -”

“Worse,” Draco corrected.


“They couldn't get any worse.”

Ron worked through this in his head, then did a double-take. “You're choosing now to criticise my grammar, Malfoy?” He'd already known the world was running mad – Harry was actively trying to get himself killed, Hermione was God-knows-where, and he had actually made a move on Draco Malfoy. But still, his fucking English was really not the priority here. Unfortunately, that meant that he'd lost the words to tell Malfoy so.

“You're right,” said Draco; and Ron did another double-take right there. Malfoy had agreed with him? Malfoy had agreed with him??? “We're wasting time.” Draco gave a slow smile, which Ron had to acknowledge was rather attractive. “I can think of much better things we could be doing.”

Before Ron could get his head round that one, Malfoy had leaned in and kissed him, hard and firm, on the lips. And okay, maybe it was just because it was now or never – because Ron was going back to the battle, and he'd kill Malfoy's parents himself if they looked like they were going to hurt Harry.... or at any rate he'd try to... Ron lost the train of thought at this point, concentrating on the feel of Draco's lips, of the pale arms which felt so good wrapped round his neck, the bulge in Draco's...

“You're hard,” Ron said accusingly.

“That is sort of the point of sex,” Draco drawled.

“Yeah, but...” Ron gave up. “But nothing.”

“Au contraire,” Draco said, moving his hands lower to clasp Ron's backside. “A very nice butt.”

“Wha...? Oh.” Ron got the point. As sounds of fighting broke in on his thoughts, he looked around hastily. No one in sight. No one except Malfoy, that was. “Shut up and fucking get on with it,” he hissed. “And how many people have you had sex with anyway?”

To his surprise, a light colour tinted Draco's cheeks. It clashed with the darkness under his eyes, but was strangely appealing. Mind you, Ron was finding almost everything strangely appealing about Malfoy at the moment. It must be the stress of the situation. Yes, that was it. Ron just needed to get off and Malfoy was the only person who could help him do it. It was logical. A stress reaction.

“None of your business,” said Draco.

“Shut up,” Ron said again, moving in for the kill. He pressed his lips against Draco's once more, then opened his mouth and slid his tongue inside Malfoy's. He'd done this much before, though only with girls; but it felt different with Malfoy. Never mind that, though: if they didn't stop snogging and get on with the action then they'd be killed – imagine being killed snogging Draco Malfoy... Ron didn't even want to GO there.

Malfoy had reached a hand down between them and had rucked up Ron's robes. He was stroking Ron's cock, and it felt far too good.

“So,” Draco said, “do you top or bottom?”


“I think you're a top,” Malfoy murmured, shrugging his own robes apart and gathering up his cock together with Ron's. “I think you want to thrust inside me, mmm?”

After a blank moment, as Ron could think of nothing but the feel of his cock and Draco's rubbing together, he realised what Malfoy was getting at.

“I definitely top,” he said. Then, hesitating, “Look, maybe this isn't such a great idea.” He should be thinking of something other than getting his end away, shouldn't he, with people dying all around him?

“Do you want to die a virgin, Weasley?” Draco taunted him.

“Shut up.”

“You know you want your cock in my arse...” Draco's voice had a slight catch in it, as he continued to work his cock and Ron's together. “To... to see if you can – ahh – make me scream.”

With a rough movement, Ron grabbed Draco's wrists and pushed him round so he was facing the wall. It caused a pang of something which was almost pain as Malfoy stopped touching his cock, but it was worth it. He knew he shouldn't be turned on by the thought of Draco screaming for him – hell, he shouldn't be turned on at all right now, not when he could hear the sounds of fighting; smell the acrid smoke of burning in his nostrils. But the danger made him hornier than ever; and as he rucked up Draco's robes around his waist and looked at his pale white arse shining in the torchlight, Ron couldn't think of anything much except fucking him. He muttered a lubricating spell, and pushed sloppy fingers inside Draco. Draco made a deep “aah” noise somewhere in his chest, and Ron had a moment when he thought he was just going to shoot his load over Malfoy's back before he could get inside him. The thought that this might be his only chance to fuck someone held him back, however: he was determined to experience as much as he possibly could. He changed the two fingers inside Draco for three, his other hand on his own cock as he felt Malfoy's muscles relax enough to let him push in. Then it was time to put his cock in Malfoy and... fuck... fuck Ron was so glad he wasn't going to die without feeling this, and if this killed him it was going to be a bloody brilliant way to go.

Draco was making little mewling noises like a frightened kitten, his head tossed back and his hair tickling Ron's chin. Ron had his eyes screwed shut as he thrust his hips back and fro, pushing into Malfoy. The noises of battle were lost beneath the tiny squeaks emanating from Malfoy; Ron could hear his own stertorous breathing, and for perhaps the first time in his life didn't give a bugger how stupid he sounded. Draco was tight and hot and Ron was desperate and hard and the combination of those was beyond description, beyond conscious thought. He reached a hand round, to find that Draco's hand was already around his own cock; Ron laced his fingers over Draco's and worked him in time with his own thrusts. One, two, one, two, fuck.

Draco came first, splattering the wall with his own come. Some of it splashed off, staining Draco's robes and face, and that was enough to make Ron reach his own orgasm with a loud groan. He shuddered against Draco's back, his forehead slick with sweat.

When Ron pulled out, Draco collapsed to the floor. Ron, breathing heavily for a moment or two, stood there. Then, as the sounds of battle once more reached him, he remembered what was happening, where he was. Shoving his robes down around him hastily, he brushed a hand through his hair – then thought how stupid it was that he was worrying what his hair looked like, for fuck's sake, when people were dying. He made for the exit, but just as he got there, he paused for a second and looked back. Draco had pulled himself up to a sitting position, but there were tears streaming down his face. He looked broken, devastated. For a second, Ron hesitated; then, drawing his wand, he went out to battle.

He always wondered what might have been had he stayed.
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