Originally posted: May 19, 2006

Title: That's What Friends Are For
Author: sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Length/Word Count: One-shot, 1764
Genre: PWP
Summary: Harry couldn’t remember when it first happened or how it seemed to have become a habit over the years they’d shared a dorm.
Notes: My very first Harry/Ron, written as a gift for the lovely quite_grey. Special thanks to my beta, Immortal Phoenix. Any remaining mistakes belong to me.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.


That's What Friends Are For


He couldn’t remember when it had first happened, or how it seemed to have become a habit over the years they’d shared a dorm, but Harry always wanked listening to Ron’s panting, muffled by the red curtains that enclosed their beds. Sometimes Harry would try to match Ron pace for pace, listening to the harsh smacking their hands made as they traveled up and down slick cocks, their gasps and barely restrained moans seemingly in time with one another. Then Harry would let out a tiny yelp, hot come spurting out over his hands and stomach, and he could swear that Ron had come at the exact same moment. Other times, Harry would deliberately move slowly, straining to hear every sound emitted from Ron’s lips as Harry’s fingers barely caressed the velvety skin, and he would hold his breath. He’d only begin stroking himself fully when Ron’s breathing would get heavy and rough, but he would come quickly after Ron, biting his lip to keep from groaning as Ron muttered, “Scourgify” under his breath.

No matter how Harry tried to delude himself, Ron must have known that Harry listened, but he never said a word. And even when they’d both perfected the silencing charm back in fifth year, Ron still never used it when he wanked.

The night started out just like all the others with Harry growing hard beneath his cotton pajamas, thinking of their evening ritual as he climbed into his bed. He reached out to shut the hangings when he noticed Ron staring at him, or more aptly, staring at his erection proudly tenting the sheets. Harry froze, his skin flushed, and Ron’s gaze shifted to Harry’s eyes.

“Leave it,” he said, and Harry’s arm fell from the curtain. Ron’s voice dropped barely above a whisper. “Do you wanna watch this time?”

Harry gulped and glanced around the dorm. All the other hangings were shut; the rest of the occupants seemed to be fast asleep. He looked back at Ron and nodded, his heart beating frantically.

“Come here, then.” Ron beckoned, and Harry climbed onto the foot of the bed. His hands were sweaty, and he hastily rubbed them on his thighs. Ron seemed nervous too; his fingers shook a bit as he closed the bed hangings, then they were encased in a world of red.

“Um…we’d better…do you have your wand?”

“Oh yeah—” Ron fumbled around for a bit, grabbing his wand from beneath the pillows, and cast, “Silencio” under his breath. Ron stuffed the wand back in its place and without further preamble, lifted his arse, pushing his pants down around his knees. His large cock jutted out imposingly, freckled like the rest of Ron’s skin; Harry wondered if it felt similar to his own, hard beneath the impossibly sensitive flesh. He didn’t realise that he was gaping, and Ron furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well…say something,” Ron said, holding his cock loosely in one hand.

“It’s…it’s huge,” Harry answered, and Ron broke out into a wide smile.

“I know. I think I’m bigger than Charlie even,” he boasted, then leaned over to poke Harry’s knee. “Go on, then. Show me yours.”

“No—I’m…it’s not as big.”

“That’s alright. Lavender says that it doesn’t matter how big you are, it’s how you use it or something.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “She said that to you?”

“No, I overheard her talking to Parvati,” Ron admitted with a shrug.

“Has she seen it?”

“No!” Ron’s face tinged pink. “Well, no…I mean, that would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Weird.”

“Weird,” Ron echoed, “but kinda nice.”

“Yeah.” They both shifted uncomfortably, cocks twitching at the thought.

“So go on, show me yours.”

Harry wanted to protest again, but he figured fair was fair, and he rose to his knees, his cheeks hot as he pushed his pajama bottoms down. His cock sprung forth, glistening at the tip, and Ron’s mouth dropped open.

“Yours is wide.”

Harry’s face screwed up. “Wide?”

“Yeah, thick.” Ron’s tone took on a dreamy quality, and the next thing Harry knew, Ron leaned over and was grasping the hard length in his hands. Harry let out a sharp breath; he’d never felt anyone else touching him there before and it felt…it felt really good.

“Sorry, I just—”

“No, it’s alright,” Harry answered quickly, placing one hand over Ron’s before he could pull away.

“Yeah?” Ron said, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth; his fingers tightened.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, gripping a bedpost to steady himself. Ron gave an experimental pull, and Harry gasped. “Can I touch yours?”

“Yeah…” Ron got to his knees, too, without letting go. Harry tentatively wrapped his fingers around Ron’s shaft and tugged, grinning when Ron let out a hiss.

“I’m not gay, you know,” he spluttered as Harry ran his fingers along the underside of Ron’s cock. “It’s alright if you are—it’s just, I’m not.”

“I’m not either.” Harry grasped Ron’s erection firmly at the base, sliding his fingers up and down. Ron soon got the hint, matching Harry’s rhythm, and they both began to pant. “At least I don’t think…” Harry’s voice trailed off into a groan, and Ron’s eyelids fluttered closed, tiny moans tickling Harry’s ears. He lost himself in the feeling of Ron’s calloused fingers pumping his cock, tiny drops of pre-come dribbling from the tip, and he barely noticed his own fingers had slackened until he heard Ron groaning his name.

“Harry…harder—”

Harry bit his lip and tightened his grip, pulling Ron forcibly to make up for his earlier inattention, and he almost fell over in his haste. His fingers clutched Ron’s shoulder to regain his balance, and he began to pump faster, harder, Ron matching his pace, their groans growing louder. Harry’s face was on fire, and his stomach muscles tensed, an odd fluttery sensation playing just beneath his skin.

“Ron…Ron, I’m gonna—” With a warning shout, Harry came hard, shooting the white pearly liquid all over Ron’s stomach. His head dropped to Ron’s shoulder, his chest heaving as he concentrated on continuing his stroking, though his body just wanted to collapse in post-orgasmic bliss.

“A little bit more…” Ron pleaded, but Harry’s hand went limp. He stared at Ron’s cock, purple and throbbing, held in his loose fist, and he licked his lips. “Harry…” Ron whined, and Harry sat up, staring at Ron’s eyes.

“Can I—I want to try something,” Harry mumbled. Ron looked wild, confused and desperate; Harry shivered. “Just lie back.”

Ron complied with the request, settling back on the pillows, although he still looked as if he didn’t understand what was happening. Harry’s gaze returned to Ron’s cock, heavy in his palm, and before he could think twice about his idea, he leaned over and swiped his tongue across the slit.

“Harry!” Ron shouted. Harry hesitantly looked up.

“Was that okay?”

“Bloody hell…” Ron lifted his hips, and Harry needed no further encouragement; he bent over and licked the head again. Ron tasted like Ron, really, mixed with salty sweat. Harry took a breath and inhaled the musky scent, then opened his mouth as wide as it would go, wrapping his lips around Ron’s shaft. He couldn’t get very much of it in without gagging, but Ron’s hips arched not giving him much of a choice in the matter. Harry choked and pulled away, coughing as Ron’s cock fell out of his mouth.

“What are you trying to do, kill me?”

“Sorry—it just felt really good,” Ron said sheepishly. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Just stay still, alright?”

“Alright,” Ron agreed, and Harry bent back over, tentatively taking the head into his mouth again. Harry placed his hands on Ron’s thighs, holding him down just in case Ron got any more ideas, then slowly slid his lips down the shaft, taking him in as far as he could go. Ron groaned, straining beneath Harry’s grip, and Harry grinned around his cock. His head began to bob, and he found if he relaxed his throat a little bit, he could take more of Ron in with every stroke.

It wasn’t long before Ron began to convulse beneath Harry’s grip, his cock pulsing rapidly between Harry’s lips, and suddenly Harry’s mouth was filled with warm salty come. He pulled away, grimacing at the taste. Replacing his mouth with his hand, he gave Ron a few languid pulls; Ron’s head was thrown back, eyes closed as he took a deep shuddering breath and then his muscles collapsed, and he lay spent on the bed.

Harry leaned back on his knees, wiping his sticky hand on Ron’s sheet. “You didn’t last very long,” he teased, smiling faintly.

“Yeah, well—bloody hell, Harry. You try it. I bet you won’t be lasting that long, either.” Ron finally opened his eyes, peaking up at Harry beneath pale lashes. “You’ve never done that before have you?”

“No,” Harry said quickly, averting his eyes. “Have you ever gotten one before?”

“No…blimey, Harry you gave me my first blow job. That’s…”

“Weird,” Harry interrupted, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“Yeah, weird,” Ron agreed, finally managing to prop up on his elbows, “but kinda nice.” Harry peaked down at Ron, catching his eye. They both grinned, then broke out into a fit of laughter, Ron leaning up to punch Harry’s arm.

“We should probably go to bed. Transfiguration’s first thing tomorrow,” Ron said, grabbing his wand to cast Scourgify over them both. Harry nodded and sat up on his knees, sliding his pajamas back over his hips. Ron simply kicked his pants to the floor.

“So…night, then.” Harry pushed aside the curtains and began to slide off the bed, when he felt Ron’s hand on his arm, stilling him.

“You know, sometime I could, well I could do that to you…if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Well, it only seems fair doesn’t it?” Ron shrugged and let go of Harry’s arm. “Not tonight or anything, but another time. Like tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be,” Ron quickly added, “but it’s Friday, and we wouldn’t have classes the next day, so I just thought—”

“No, no…it’s a great idea.” Harry clamored onto his bed, slipping under the blankets, turning to his side to face Ron. “So tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” They shared another grin, then Ron reached up to pull his curtains shut.

“Leave it,” Harry said, and Ron complied, dropping his hand.

“Night,” Ron whispered, snuggling down under the covers.

“Night,” Harry answered, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

--Fin--








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