It was late in the evening. Ron was at home in his bed, lying on his back head in hands. And as he turned his thoughts over and over again in said head, he finally came to the realization he'd been fearing for years:

"Oh my God, I'm in love with my best friend!"

And alas, it was true: Ronald Weasley had despite himself developed a very severe crush on Harry Potter. What was to be done? For a long time now, he'd been trying to deny it with far-flung reasoning such as "it's normal for me to think about him so much because he's my friend" or "his appearing during my sexual fantasies is a common mental reflex", but since Harry had come to stay at the Weasley residence for vacation, and he and Ron were furthermore sleeping in the same room on attached bunk beds not even the wildest leaps of logic could rationalize what Ron felt.

Enter Harry Potter.

"Hey, Ron!" he saluted; and completely oblivious to his friend's current raging dilemma, he started to undress and put on his pyjamas. That of course just set the redhead on the way for a raging something else.

Ron buried his head in his pillow to stop himself from looking…

"How the hell does he manage to stay so sexy?" he thought "Is he trying to make me as miserable as possible?"

***

It was late at night. Everyone in the Weasley residence was asleep but Ron and Harry. They were still wide awake in their respective beds, and rambling on about everything and nothing in particular as such close friends are wont when sleeping together.

"You know, Ron" said Harry at one point "You're a good friend; It's nice to have someone like you in this bloody magic world we're living in…"

Ron was surprised:

"Oh, really?" he said "Gee, thanks…"

"No, I'm serious" said Harry "Blimey, I don't know what I'd be doing without you…"

"What do you mean?" said Ron, trying to sound as neutral as possible. It's not everyday that one's secret crush tells one this kind of things, and he was becoming very nervous.

"I mean, don't get me wrong" continued Harry "It's not that I long for a normal life and all that dramatic stuff; I love being a wizard and a hero and whatnot. But it's good sometimes to have someone to talk to about stuff other than Voldemort."
"Wow" said Ron "Thanks…"

"Friends?

"Forever!"

They smiled, and there was a long pause; then, Harry laughed:

"We really need to get ourselves girlfriends…" he said.

"Meh…" said Ron "Who needs those?"

"Ron, I'm serious" said Harry, barely holding back a laugh "You have no idea how many times I have to wank every day!"

The duo burst into laughter. Ron, seeing that the discussion was going to last, climbed down from his -ironically as the reader will see, top- bunk and sat down on the floor next to Harry's bed; he felt a jolt in his heart. He wouldn't have admitted it for worlds, but Harry was just so ht in his Gryffindor knickers…

"No, think about it" continued Harry "I mean, I'm a celebrity, and you're a handsome Quidditch player: at our age, we should be getting laid… a lot!"

This time Harry laughed, and Ron just smiled. Then, the redhead redirected the discussion; he liked what he'd just heard.

"You really think I'm handsome?" he asked Harry..

"Sure" answered Harry, not a trace of slyness in his voice.

"Wow" said Ron "Thanks again… You're quite the looker too, you know..."

"Oh, I do!" said Harry, and the two boys laughed again.

They looked at each other; then they looked away; then back again, then away. And after a little while, Ron started turning his head towards Harry. Outside, he was silent and timid; but on the inside, his heart was beating furiously, and he was telling himself "This was it! This is your chance!"

Of course, that was mainly the hormones talking.

"You know…" said Ron at last, slowly putting his hand on Harry's bed "We could try to do something on our own…"

"What?" said Harry.

"Nothing…" said Ron, suddenly looking the other way.

Then, there was a very awkward silence; one could cut the tension with a butter knife. But after some time, Harry timidly began moving his hand toward Ron's; and, without rushes, one finger at a time, he started touching it:

"I'm game if you're game…" said Harry.

Ron looked up at him:

"Really?"

"Really…"

"Oh" said the redhead "I'm game alright…"

And without any more warning or foreplay than those few words, Ron pounced onto the bed and started passionately kissing Harry. For Ron, this was the first kiss in his life, and for Harry not so much, but for both of them, it felt just as magical.

The sheets fell to the ground. They boy's anxious hands explored their almost naked bodies touching, grappling and fondling toned muscles and features, whilst their lips kissed and under their underwear things were already getting stiff and excited:

"Who the hell needs girls?" said Ron, finally pulling away.

"Nobody!" said Harry. Then, he pointed his wand (literal, not metaphorical) at the door, and pronounced the locking charm:

"Colloportus!"

And he threw Ron down on the bed, and got on top. With an immense grin on his face, animal passion in his eyes, and an enormous bulge in his knickers, he held down the redhead and told him:

"Get ready for the ride of your life!"

Ron was in seventh heaven, and it just got better thenceforth. Unfortunately, the rating system only allows us to go this far, so the reader will have to take our word that both the boys them reached climax that night more times than the hours they slept.

***

"This is wrong!" said Harry, letting himself fall on the bed.

"Completely…" said Ron.

"We should stop this when we get girlfriends" said Harry.

"Definitely." said Ron.

…

"Well, we should stop most of it when we get girlfriends…" said Harry.

"That sounds like a plan…" said Ron.

"In friendship's name…" said Harry.

"Long live friendship!" said Ron.

And the two boys went for another round of "friendship". The next day, they woke up blissfully amorous, snuggled in each other's arms.