Title: Get by Without
Sweets
Rating: R+
Summary: Hermione bets Harry that he can't
go a day without sweets.
Disclaimer: I don't own HP nor am I
making profit from writing this fan fic. JKR owns it all.
Warnings: Slash love
Author/Artist's notes: Gift for galaapples – happy
holidays!
"Ron! I can't believe you gave Harry those sweets!" Hermione chided as Harry dug into his box of sugar quills, which happened to be his favorite. He crooked his left eyebrow up and frowned, the feather of his sugar quill already between his lips.
"Why not? It's Christmas," Ron exclaimed. He shrugged, tearing at the wrapper of his own present from his best mate. Hermione rolled her eyes, standing up and yanking both the box and the quill in Harry's mouth away from him.
"You know what McGonagall said. Harry can't be eating anymore sweets, not after what happened last time." Harry sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch in the common room where they sat. Last time he had received a box of sweets, it had been poisoned by a follower of Voldemort. He had ended up in the infirmary wing for the next two weeks, his body slowly ridding the poison.
"What does that mean? You think I would give my best mate something deadly!" Ron exclaimed, easily angered, the tips of his ears quickly becoming of deep shade of crimson. Hermione shook her head, her hand on her hips.
"No! But you could have bought it from someone very unsavory, someone who knows your best friends with Harry," she stated logically. Ron growled, grabbing the box back from her and handing it back to Harry. She groaned, rolling her eyes as Harry merely began to suckle on another sugar quill as he beamed up at his best mate. "I bet you couldn't even go a whole day without eating a sweet!"
Harry frowned, shaking his head as he put down his box of sugar quills. "I could too if I wanted to!" he exclaimed. "Right, Ron?" Ron shrugged, looking away and not answering vocally. "You don't believe me?" Harry asked, jumping up from his seat and glaring at his two friends. "Well I can! And I will! I'll go one whole day without eating sweets – no I'll go a week! Starting right now."
Hermione gave a small smile, a bit satisfied as she turned back to her small pile of presents while Ron grabbed for the box of sugar quills, ready to relieve Harry from them. Harry growled, taking the box and stalking up to the boys dorms to lock up his collection of sweets.
He sighed and sat down on his bed. Part of him wondered briefly if he actually could win the bet. Then he remembered his friend's non-belief that he couldn't.
The bet didn't start taking its toll until dinner time when they had finished their main course and then moved onto dessert. He had unconsciously begun to reach for a pastry when Ron grabbed his arm and stopped him. "No sweets, remember?" he stated, raising his eyebrows. Harry nodded and sat back in his seat, sipping his pumpkin juice as he watched the staff members and few students at the great table eat their desserts.
He left the table, his stomach not really full and his mouth watering for the sweets which he had watched his best mate fill up on. It got worse when they reached the common room and Ron pulled out another box of sweets, this time pumpkin pastry puffs, to munch on while Hermione sat down and read them a book, a sort of tradition that they had started back in their first year.
After finishing the book, she stood up and stretched her arms, yawning loudly. She claimed tired and walked up the stairs, but not before winking at Ron and saying goodnight. Harry wondered briefly what the wink had meant but decided to put it aside when Hedwig dropped by with a small package from Lupin, wishing him and the others a Happy Christmas.
He opened the package with turned out to be another box of sugar quills. He sighed, frowning before handing them over to Ron. "Here, have them. I can't eat them and their partially for you anyways," he stated. Ron grinned, licking his lips and digging in.
As Harry watched Ron tuck into the sugar quills, slowly but surely devouring them, he wondered briefly how fast Ron's metabolism was. He noticed that his best mate could eat anything and as much of everything as he wanted without gaining a pound. His figure was still tall and slim though Harry knew well enough that there were muscles hidden beneath the jumper and baggy jeans.
He sighed and looked down at his own figure. He was pretty short for his age, really only about 5'11" where as Ron was quickly nearing 6' 7". He knew the only reason he was still fit was because of Quidditch, that and the fact that during the summer he barely ate anything at all.
Then his stomach growled – loudly. He cringed, frowning as Ron barked a laugh. "Was that you mate?" he chuckled, placing the box of sugar quills on the coffee table in front of them. Harry looked over at Ron and glared at him, noting the sprinkling of sugar that covered Ron's lips. "Want some sugar quills?" he asked, grinning wickedly, gesturing at the box that sat in front of them. "Wait," he started when Harry didn't reach for them and only narrow his eyes, "That's right, you can't have any."
He growled, annoyed as he stared at Ron, fixating on the sweetness that nestled on the skin of his lips. Ron stayed silent for a few moments before he finally leaned back slightly. "What? Do I've have a bogey or something hanging from my nose" he asked. Harry grinned, shaking his head before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Ron's, tasting the sugar there.
Ron jolted backwards, surprised as Harry moved with Ron, beginning to almost crawl on top of Ron, his mouth fixated to Ron's lips. Ron flailed, looking about the room, trying to figure out something to do as Harry's hands roamed Ron's body, his tongue licking gently at Ron's lips, trying to push through, to taste more of those succulent sweets whose taste still very much resided in every crevice of Ron's mouth.
It wasn't until Harry's right hand gently ghosted over Ron's arousal through the thick layer of fabric of his trousers that Ron gasped, allowing Harry's tongue to delve into Ron's mouth and tangle with Ron's tongue.
Harry readily devoured Ron, relishing in his sweet taste, his own special flavor mixing in with the sweet luscious taste of the sugar quills and pastries from before. He groped and probed at Ron's body beneath him, memorizing each dip, each curve, each sharp edge of Ron's skin, feeling the flesh rise beneath his fingers tips as his hand pushed up under Ron's thin, hand-me down shirt. Whether Ron had realized it or not, they were very much alike.
Ron groaned loudly, his head falling backwards, resting on the couch's arm rest; his back arched upwards, his neck bared and his Adam's apple bobbing. Harry grinned, his lips moving to consume the skin of his neck as he began to move against him, his hips thrusting forwards, their arousals brushing against each other through the thick fabric of their trousers.
Ron's hand moved to cup the back of Harry's head, his fingers burring themselves into the thick head of hair, holding Harry's mouth to his neck as his other hand traveled between their bodies, rubbing, trying to pry belts open, trying to feel more.
Harry suckled greedily at Ron's neck, causing the blood beneath the skin to rise and cling, producing a large red mark that would be very noticeable in the morning unless Ron wore a turtle neck. His own hands began working on Ron's shirt, pushing it up and over Ron's head, causing them to break contact momentarily.
If Harry had been thinking logically, he would have worried briefly if Ron would stop him then, when they weren't connected except a bit below the waist, where they pulsed and rubbed against each other, both desperate for friction, for feeling. But Harry was much to focused on the taste, on the smell, on the sight, and sounds that were all coming from Ron.
And Ron wasn't putting up much of a fight anyways. If anything, he was going right along with Harry. He trusted his hips forwards up against Harry who now supported himself mainly with his arms and hands which rested on either side of Ron's head on the arm rest. He moved his hips rhythmically, grinding against Ron who groaned audibly below him. Ron's hands gripped at Harry's hips, not holding him in place nor guiding him.
Ron finally growled after a moment and sat up, his hands rushing to unfasten Harry's belt and trousers, flinging both aside along with Harry's undergarments when he finally got them off a few minuets later, Harry working along side of him. Soon both found themselves rutting against each other, skin against skin, pre-come intermingling with pre-come.
"Harry." Hearing his voice moaned so softly startled Harry slightly as he looked down at Ron. At that moment, part of him wished to fold into itself, to hide away from Ron's eyes and pray heavily that Ron would forget what had just overcome him and pretend nothing happened. It was obviously too late for this.
Ron looked up at Harry, his eyes lids heavy, his fingers gently probing the small puckered hole at Harry's backside. Harry jerked, hissed, his eyes closed as he bit his lip. Ron paused, looking up at Harry for motivation, for something to tell him either to stop or keep going.
Harry opened his eyes slowly, reaching behind him, guiding Ron's hand back to the small hole and Ron took over, preparing Harry for something neither of them ever thought they would be doing for real.
A few moments later, Harry rose and slowly but surely lowered himself onto Ron, hissing at the feel of Ron inside of him. His eyes stung slightly and he gasped loudly, dragging in ragged breaths as Ron wrapped one hand around Harry, spreading the pre-come that gathered at the head. "Harry," he whispered, beginning to move his hand, gently coaxing Harry into a rhythm.
Harry slowly began to move, controlling the pace. It hurt and Harry knew he would feel sore in the morning as he looked down at Ron, his eyes locked on the blue ones before him. Ron grinned softly, reaching upwards and gently pulling Harry down, pressing his lips against Harry's. Harry sighed deeply and smiled when he found that the essence of the sugar quills still resided there, in Ron's hot mouth.
Both moved together, simultaneously, in rhythm, both wanting, wishing for release which came soon enough. Harry through his head back and let out a breathy gasp, Ron's name on his lips as he came. Ron fallowed quickly behind, the only difference in that he called out Harry's name loudly, for all of Gryffindor tower to hear.
Harry collapsed partially on top of Ron, tired and a bit sore. He smiled happily and nestled next to Ron, content. "We should really clean ourselves up mate," Ron stated after a few minuets of quiet as he swiped one finger through the sticky mess they had made that littered his stomach.
Harry chuckled nodding. "We should also tell Hermione I lost the bet." Ron looked down at him, grinning from ear to ear.
"Alright, as long as we don't tell her how, I think we'll be okay."
Fin.