What is wrong with me? Why this sudden desire to branch out into pairings like this!? Someone stop me, I don’t care how just
gag me, spank me, tie me up and have your wicked way with me- just anything!
Pairing(s): Ron Weasley/ Harry Potter.
Warning(s): It’s platonic slash but well… RW/HP all the same!
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He hears the whimpers before Harry is aware enough to silence them; shoving away the warm cocoon of covers, he steps- feet bared- upon the cold stone of the dormitory floor, running on tiptoes the short distance between his bed and Harry’s.
“Harry?” Harsh whisper against the silence of the room, a muffled cry smothered in response.
“‘M fine, Ron, g’back to sleep.”
Ron hesitated a moment, his hand half-reaching out for Harry’s bed hangings, his feet turning to little cubes of ice as he lingered in the chill of the room. He bit his lip a moment before making up his mind and parting the thick crimson curtains before him, climbing into his best friend’s bed.
“Ron- what?” Harry’s voice was hoarse as he turned over, turned to look at the redhead.
“Shh,” Ron shushed him, pushing an unresisting Harry over and slipping beneath the body-warmed covers. He watched as Harry scrubbed at his face with the sleeve of his pyjamas, trying to hide the evidence of his tears and nightmares.
Ron reached out, gently pulling Harry’s hands from his face, touching lightly at a heat-flushed cheek, his brow creasing a little as he looked down into Harry’s eyes- the greens of them still shining bright despite the darkness around them.
Ron ran his finger over Harry’s cheek, tracing across the sharp slice of his jaw before touching- timidly- at his lips, feeling as the hard mouth became pliant, opening in a silent gasp for breath.
He leaned in, carefully brushing his lips across Harry’s forehead, moving his lips to sweep across his cheek before slowly lowering his mouth to Harry’s own.
There was nothing sexual about the kiss; it was bestowed merely as the offering of comfort between friends, a gesture of trust and platonic, brotherly love. Their lips moving softly against each other’s, the merest flickering of tongue to mouth before Ron- as the initiator- pulled away.
He stroked his fingers over the side of Harry’s face once more before shifting so that he could cradle the other boy in his arms, offering him what wordless comforts he was able, glad that Harry would accept this at least from him.
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