Ron stood under the shower and sighed appreciatively as jets of water coursed over the new and swollen lines on his shoulders. The spray felt like hot needles prickling and burning his skin, and he brought his hand to one shoulder and pressed lightly, wincing at the pain that seared though his muscles.
Sex with Draco Malfoy, he was discovering, could be hazardous to his health.
The blond had given him an impressive injury with his perfect, pampered fingernails just a short while ago, but Ron reckoned the scratches to his shoulders were a small price to pay for the look of unfiltered bliss that lingered on Draco's face after their frenzied coupling.
He took a large sponge from the shower rack and squirted some of Draco's almond-scented soap gel onto the porous surface, squeezing it until a frothy lather bubbled up through its holes. Ron began to scrub himself with the sponge -- the sweet fragrance wafted around him through the steam and he felt a pull in the pit of his stomach as he responded to the scent he'd come to associate with Draco's scintillating body.
Creamy suds slid over Ron's lean, scarred frame: lines that marred his forearms from his attack in the Brains Room, and nicks and scrapes he'd collected in those final days of what would have been his seventh year decorated his chest, legs and stomach. Ron squeezed the sponge against his shoulder, and lather trickled down his back, tickling a bit as it hit the curve of his arse. He used the sponge to soap the inside of his thighs, but placed it on the rim of the tub to use his fingers to gently wash his sac and now, his steeling erection.
By Godric, it certainly didn't take much to arouse him anymore. Since Draco had sauntered his way into his life and his bed, the mere thought or sound or scent of him was enough to stir up feelings of desire and longing and...and it was a shame that the blond was still asleep in the other room. Ron's long fingers coiled around the base of his cock, almost unconsciously, and he exhaled slowly as he began to stroke himself.
It didn't take long to set a pleasurable rhythm, and he was wanking in earnest when the glass door slid open behind him. A rush of cool air hit his back, and Ron turned immediately, his hand freezing on his shaft.
"Is this a bad time?" Draco asked, wearing nothing but a sinful smile.
Ron felt heat flush his cheeks. Even though he was a grown man with a healthy sex drive, and Draco and he had certainly enjoyed watching each other pull off from time to time, there was still something terribly embarrassing about being caught with his dick in his hand, pulling off like some wild beast.
Draco stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him. He pressed his warm body against Ron's and slipped one hand into the lather coating his belly. The other rested on the hollow of his hip, fingers making lazy circles in the soap. "I'm sorry," he drawled in a way that implied he wasn't 'sorry' in the slightest. "Did I interrupt?"
Two soapy fingers slid down along the warm, dusky skin along the cleft of Ron's arse and over his perineum and, surprised at the sudden intimacy, he nearly crashed into the shower wall in front of him. His arms stretched out instinctively and his palms landed flat against the tile, saving his face from colliding with it. "Merlin's balls, Draco! What the hell?"
Draco hissed. "Merlin's balls," he repeated, "are an image I certainly could have done without."
Warmth coursed up and down Ron's spine, pooling at the small of his back, as Draco's fingers moved lazily around his opening. He could feel his shock disappearing with each slide, rising up and away like the steam that billowed around them. "I could have gone right into the wall."
"You didn't."
"But I could've."
"But you didn't. Spread your legs," Draco commanded, cutting through Ron's whinging. He pressed the tip of his forefinger at Ron's soapy-slick entrance. "Do it."
Achieving sexual dominance had been like everything else in their relationship: a constant battle of smarts and strength between the two men. Ron had won more often then he'd lost, but he secretly relished the times that Draco would take control of him -- when he would take him with a firm and steady hand and accept nothing short of 'yes, please and thank you' while he fucked him six ways from Sunday. When he'd ordered Ron to spread his legs, his body vibrated like the plucking of a guitar string, and he wasted no time in spreading his thighs apart until his feet were pressed against either side of the tub.
"What brought this on?" Ron asked, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as Draco pushed his finger inside and stroked him.
"You're naked, wet and covered in bubbles, Ron. Do I really need a reason beyond that?" Draco chuckled softly, nuzzled the back of Ron's neck and pressed a second finger deeper inside.
Ron sucked in a breath and bit his lower lip, his muscles aching a little as the friction burned down into his thighs. "I suppose not," he babbled distractedly, gripping around Draco's buried and busy fingers -- a line of spittle trickled from the corner of his open mouth. He could already feel his body pushing back against Draco and wondered absently if he'd always been so easy. Before he had time to properly mull over the matter, Draco withdrew his fingers, and Ron felt bereft.
"You stopped," he whined, looking over his shoulder. The angle was awkward, and he could just make out the crown of Draco's white-blond head.
"Only because I've thought of something better," the other man cooed. He kneaded Ron's squarish backside for a brief moment, and then spread his cheeks apart with his fingers, exposing his clenching hole to the shower's spray.
Ron made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat. Hot water coursed down his back, rinsing away the soap and winding around his trembling thigh as it pooled at the bottom of the tub. Amidst the torrent, Ron felt the tip of Draco's small, hot tongue flick against his anus, and his knees nearly buckled under him. "Nnghfuck."
The blond pulled his mouth away from Ron's quivering muscle. "Were you using my gel?" he asked off-handedly, and then drove his tongue into Ron's entrance again, darting it in and out of him quickly.
An annoying burn began to sear into Ron's shoulders and he gritted his teeth, concentrating on the sweet flicksuckswirl of Draco's tongue inside of him. He pushed back against Draco's mouth, greedy for more. Urgings of 'more' and 'God please' dripped from his lips, much like the way Draco's saliva seemed to ooze down over his sac.
Draco gave Ron's entrance one last, dragging lick, and then got back to his feet. "Need you so much," he purred, rubbing the head of his cock against Ron's buttock. He moved his empty hand over Ron's hip and curled his fist around his uncut length. "Going to fuck you, Ron."
He could only whimper in reply; Ron leaned forward against the shower tile and breathed through his mouth while hot water dripped from his dark red hair onto his face. More than once, droplets fell into his eyes, and while it hurt to keep them open, he couldn't help watch Draco's thin fingers pull and squeeze at his aching cock.
"Yes. Hard as you can."
"There's not a lot of room to be particularly athletic here. But since you seem so desperate, I'll see what I can manage."
Ron felt his face flush at Draco's tone; the blond had him just where he wanted him, and they both knew it. Draco increased the grip on his cock, pulling back the foreskin and running his fingertips over the spongy head. He placed a hard bite to the side of his neck, and Ron cried out, a desperate and breathy sound that echoed off of the tile that surrounded them.
Ron began to buck forward into Draco's lightly trembling hand. Fluid that had leaked from the head of his cock mingled with the soap, creating a lubricant that felt like liquid heat against his skin. He cushioned his forehead by propping his arm on the tiled wall and cried out when he felt the head of Draco's cock forcing its way inside of him; the friction pulled his muscles and made them burn. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth. "Oh gods, Draco, do it," he pleaded.
"You know," Draco panted, "it amazes me that no matter how many times I've pounded into this gorgeous freckled arse of yours, you always manage to remain so bloody tight. You're just too much," he groaned near Ron's ear. "You're so fucking hot. Want--I...fuck."
"Fuck me harder," Ron sobbed, loving the snap of Draco's hips and the way their bodies collided over and over.
Draco nipped the shell of Ron's ear - a little too hard - and lay against Ron's frame, slamming his hips upward. "Nngh, almost there."
"Wanttocome," Ron blurted, clasping his right hand over Draco's, intertwining their fingers and stroking his shaft at a breakneck pace. The two men bucked and lurched together with surprising coordination, and Ron felt the familiar coil in his stomach tighten and he bore down on Draco's cock. His wet skin turned prickly-hot as his orgasm drew closer -- he was so fucking close, teetering on the edge of something wonderful -- something hot and black and endless -- all he needed was one last push.
"Nnnnngh," Draco groaned as he came, his body twitching and jerking as his release spurted out of him, flooding Ron's channel.
The winding coil in Ron's stomach sprang and snapped and then he was tumbling into bliss after Draco. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as milky fluid sprayed out against the tile with a force that surprised him. His cock throbbed in both of their hands and he looked down in time to see their fingers sliding in the come that had oozed back against his shaft. He rubbed his face against his forearm, mumbling incoherently.
Draco nuzzled Ron's skin, kissing him and licking drops of water from his aching shoulders as it pelted down on the both of them. "Fuck." Ron thought he sounded a little awed as he peeled his body away and stepped out of the shower.
The hot water still spattered against his skin, but Ron immediately felt cold without Draco's body over his. He was about to began the slow ascent to standing upright when Draco came back into the stall and pushed something wide and smooth into his stretched hole.
"Unh!" Ron's hand immediately reached behind him to see what the hell had just been placed inside of him, and his fingers were met with something cool and hard. "The hell is this?"
"Butt plug," Draco answered matter-of-factly. "Listen, love -- I have to go out and run a few errands; I won't be long. Keep that in until I get back. I'll be very upset if you remove it beforehand without good reason. Is that understood?" Draco bit the back of Ron's neck. "I love you," he said quickly, and then he was gone again.
Ron gasped and clenched his muscles around the plug that Draco has lodged in his arse, his mind twirling at the last thing Draco had said to him.
I love you.
He'd felt the same emotion flitting about in his heart for months now -- really, he'd known from the first moment he and Draco had kissed that he'd fallen absolutely head over for him -- but this was, well, it was so big that Ron had trouble wrapping his mind around it.
Impossible things were happening.
The world was flat. It was snowing in Hell. He was in love with Draco Malfoy.
And what's more, he was loved back.