hpkinkfest | The Way To Blue, Part II (Reply)

Title: The Way To Blue
Author: eruditefics
My Own Prompt, this one
Kink Showcased: Hurt/Comfort
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Ron/Harry
Summary: Ron and Harry are just getting started with their relationship before Ron is taken during a mission. What results is something that threatens to tear them apart.
Warnings: Rape...mentioned, not really described. Ron goes through the ringer, so be warned. Seriously. Think Jamie Fraser..only less intense. Anal, Oral, Rimming etc...
Word Count: 13291
Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta Deathjunke! Wonderful speed! Also, marguerite_26 you are AMAZING for making this fest and being so patient. And if you're going to flame...just don't.

After a month of weekly sessions with Audrey, the ache in Harry's chest hadn't lessened at all, but now he knew how to deal with it. Harry was polite and constructive at work, using Audrey's calming exercises to keep himself centered. The pain was still acute whenever he saw Ron's tall form walking away from him, but now Harry could at least let the pain happen without having it take him over. It was an awful existence, but one he was willing to endure for Ron.

Anything for Ron.

Harry looked forlornly at his turkey sandwich as he made his way to Hermione's office. He didn’t want to eat, he never did anymore, but he continued because…well…what choice did he really have? He stopped at the loo and then sidled up to knock on Hermione's door. It was not like her to leave her door open.

He almost cried out at what he saw. Hermione and Ron were in a tearful embrace and she was rubbing soothing circles up and down his back. Harry could see the scars peeking out of the neck of his shirt and longed to touch them, to kiss them…to do anything. He bit his lip hard, longing and rage almost winning out. He needed Ron so badly, that he felt his legs might never work in time to let him slip quietly away.

"I can't believe you're here," Hermione said, her voice still quivering.

"I've missed you. I've missed everyone…I just couldn't…I didn't know…" Ron murmured, looking at his feet.

"It's alright, Ron. Everything's alright," Hermione whispered, never taking her hands off of him. "I'm just glad to have one of my best mates back."

"One of?" Ron said.

"Have you talked to…?"

"No. I can't. I can't. How could I?" Ron said, turning away from her.

"Ron…"

"Oh Mione! How could he ever love me after what happened? I gave in! I let them…do…that. I'm fucking ruined!" Ron cried, not letting go of Hermione's shoulders. Harry could feel his throat closing up.

"Ron, Harry will always love you. I feel like I've lost both of you lately, I…"

"I don't think I could take him turning away from me. I can't handle him not being able to touch me…to love me back. I don’t even want to think about it," Ron said, leaning into Hermione's embrace again.

"It will never be like that, Ron…" Hermione crooned soothingly.

"You can't know that."

Harry left as quietly as he could. He couldn't hear anymore, he’d just die if he heard another anguished word pass through Ron's beautiful lips. He felt like he wasn't ever going to take a breath again as he raced to the apparation point. As soon as he passed through the wards at Grimmauld Place and landed in the back yard, he fell to his knees. Harry let out a feral yell, a scream that ripped painfully through him as all of the worries, fears, rage and love tore through him in a torrent of equal parts fire and ice. He clutched at the grass desperately, trying to find something to anchor him to the ground.

Harry's fingers ached with the need to reach out and touch Ron, to hold onto his solid shoulders and run them through his smooth red hair. He needed Ron to know that he would always love him no matter what. It killed Harry that Ron didn’t already know that. How could he ever make that clear to Ron without scaring him away? Ron obviously needed distance, needed time to heal, but Harry had to tell Ron everything in his heart before it burst. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply, remembering what Audrey had said about deep breaths. He tried to do as she had suggested and focus on his love for Ron, not the pain of the loss. He thought back to their first kiss, reveling in the glow of that perfect moment.

"I can't believe you're seriously taking another shot!" Harry exclaimed as Ron tipped back yet another firewhiskey. They had just finished auror training and spent well into the early morning at The Leaky Cauldron with Dean and Seamus in celebration. Now, they were back at Grimmauld Place and Ron decided he needed more to drink.

"Hey! I'll have you know I hold my liquor very well," Ron said, leaning to the side and dribbling some of the amber liquid on his chin.

"You may hold it, but it doesn’t mean you aren't completely arsed right now," Harry said, pushing his sleeve over his hand and running it over Ron's chin. Harry's heart leapt in his throat when Ron leaned into his touch, closing his eyes.

Harry had wanted Ron for so long. He never would have thought, not in a million years, that Ron liked blokes, let alone wanted him. Now, in the haze of alcohol, Ron was leaning against Harry's palm and Harry's inebriated mind felt for a second like he had a chance. He leaned in, shaking, desperate to press his lips up against Ron's full mouth. He stopped abruptly. His mind was screaming at him all of the way in which this would make Ron leave, it would ruin the best friendship he ever had. Harry moved back over to his side of the couch and took a shot of firewhisky.

"Now who's completely arsed!" Ron said, his face bright red.

"I am, thank you very much," Harry stated, punching Ron lightly in the arm. "I want to go to bed, but my legs don’t seem to want to move.

"I feel ya, mate," Ron said in Harry's ear. He had somehow found his way back to Harry's side of the sofa. Suddenly, Ron's hand was on Harry's knee, his thumb moving lazy circles over his skin through a small hole in his worn denims. Harry closed his eyes and tried hard not to shudder at the feeling. Ron's lips ghosted over his neck and Harry groaned.

"Fuck, Ron…what…Oh fuck!" Harry cried out as he felt Ron's tongue run up the hard tendons of his neck.

"I want you, Harry. Love you…. you taste so good," Ron murmured, his hot breath searing Harry's skin.

"No no no no…oh god…no no no. Ron, you're pissed!" Harry said, weakly trying to push Ron away. He didn't think he could take it if Ron sobered up and was immediately horrified at what they had done.

"Yep, finally have the bollocks to make a move," Ron said, wrapping a hand around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. Harry felt Ron's erection press into his side.

Harry thought he was going to jump out of his skin. He wanted Ron so badly and he smelled so good pressed up against his side. Ron’s musky, sweet scent invaded Harry’s senses. Harry longed to lunge forward and capture Ron's mouth in a long awaited kiss. However, he needed to know that Ron wouldn't hate him in the morning. Harry damned his logical mind as he wandlessly summoned the Sober-up potion Hermione insisted they keep in their medicine cabinet.

"Here, Ron, drink this," Harry said, flipping the cap on his own little purple vial.

Ron looked suddenly wounded and forlorn. "If I drink this, I'll lose all nerve," Ron whispered, wrapping his long fingers around Harry's wrist. There was a shocking amount of desperation in his eyes.

"I won't…" Harry whispered. With that, Ron slowly drank the sweet, purple potion.

A few agonizing seconds passed and Ron's grip tightened on Harry's wrist. When the clouds cleared in Harry's mind, he looked over to find Ron staring wide-eyed and fearful at him, but he made no attempt to move away. "Harry…" he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Harry brought his hand to the back of Ron's neck and leaned forward slowly. When Ron licked his lips Harry couldn't hold back anymore. He pressed his mouth hard against Ron's. It only took a few more moments and suddenly Ron's hands were wrapped around Harry's shoulders and his tongue was moving across Harry's lips. Harry opened his mouth and moaned as he felt Ron's tongue slide over his own. Ron pushed him back onto the sofa and Harry went willingly, his entire body on fire.

Harry writhed and moaned underneath Ron as his long fingers ran up and down Harry's sides, gently touching his ribs and moving across is abdomen. Harry could hear Ron's deep breathing, saw the nervous and determined look on his face and fell in love with him even more. Ron wanted him, he wanted to impress Harry and he was trying so hard to make it good. Harry could read it all over Ron's face.

Something powerful surged inside Harry and he pushed Ron back. Ron looked hurt for a second, but Harry crawled up and successfully got Ron on his back on the other end of the sofa. He immediately kissing along Ron's sinewy neck, lavishing kisses on all of his freckles with relish. Harry had wanted to run his lips over that smooth, perfect skin for so long, that he thought he would bite right through his lips if they weren't already occupied. When Harry's teeth found purchase on Ron's soft earlobe, Ron groaned, thrust up his hips and then froze.

Harry froze too. The feeling of Ron's erection pressed insistently against his was enough to send him into orgasm with one more thrust. Ron's eyes met his with a hungry, powerful look in them. He rolled his hips against Harry again. Harry moaned, burying his face in Ron's neck and gripping his shoulders. Ron's hands cupped Harry's arse, pushing him forward and Harry cried out at the feeling of Ron's hardness pressed against his own. Ron's wide mouth found his again, tongue dancing in desperation with Harry's as they began to roll their hips together in earnest.

He could hear Ron moaning and whimpering, his breathing heavy against Harry's face. Ron's hands were tightening on Harry's bum, his thrusts becoming more frantic. The mere thought of Ron coming, of him losing control, made Harry climax, calling out Ron's name. He felt Ron shudder beneath him, whispering Harry's name and kissing the side of his face.

They stayed frozen in that moment for some time, Ron’s large warm hand rubbing up and down Harry's back and Harry's nose nuzzling the crook of Ron's neck.

"Ron," Harry moaned, palming his erection as tears fell down his cheek. He missed Ron horribly and his body missed him too, despite feeling guilty for wanting Ron in light of all he had gone through. He sat there in the grass, his head pressed against the cold brick of the side of the house, eyes closed against the ambient lights of London.

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As Ron made his way to the Burrow he still felt the warmth of Hermione’s embrace. Finally talking to her had made everything feel so much better, made him feel human again. However, that horrible, gaping black hole in the pit of his chest would never go away. Ron resigned himself to the empty feeling. He could never face Harry again. Even the thought of his former lover had the power to nearly bring him to his knees with despair.

Ron was sure Hermione had meant well and really believed that Harry would love Ron no matter what. He knew that it was the truth that Harry was missing him, he could see it in Harry's pained and pleading glances. Ron was certain that things could never go back to the way they were, that Harry would never be able to touch him again. He was tainted. He was used.

Ron slammed his fist into the wall of his attic bedroom, immediately repairing the wall and feeling ashamed for getting so angry so easily. Audrey had helped him get a hold of his emotions and now she was helping him to talk to his family and friends more, to reach out. He didn’t want to let her down. It wasn’t until today that she had mentioned Harry though.

"I'm so glad that you've opened up to your family more, Ron. This is great progress. You're healing remarkably. And you're planning on seeing Hermione at lunch?" Audrey smiled, her quill poised over her notebook, but her deep green eyes focused intently on him.

"Yeah, she returned the owl in record time. I'm actually looking forward to it," Ron shrugged, being truthful.

"Excellent. Learning to lean on people again, it will soon feel more comfortable and you'll feel safer every day. Percy did point out that you are smiling much more these days, but it never quite reaches your eyes yet." Audrey said, her honey colored brows creasing in concern.

"Oh so it's Percy now, is it?" Ron said, giving her a hard time. He could tell there was something going on between them and loved to watch her squirm to avoid his direct questioning. "That's not very professional of you, Healer Davis.

"Well, love can make fools of us all, I suppose," She sighed wistfully.

"Love?" Ron said, nearly choking on his own tongue. The thought of Percy in love put a decidedly unpleasant image inside of his mind.

"Yes, Ron. You'd know all about that though, being in love yourself," She said gently, her eyes falling on him again.

"Audrey…" Ron said in a menacing tone. His heart was racing. He wasn’t ready for this. He couldn’t think about him. He couldn't talk about him. He couldn't face all of that fear and doubt. He'd never make it out of his own head.

"It's been over two months now, Ron. We need to talk about Harry. You'll never heal if you don't acknowledge what you're feeling," Audrey said, moving to the leather sofa next to him.

Ron was shaking, his eyes watering and his fists clenching. He leapt up from the seat to avoid her touch and went for his coat. He couldn't sit there and listen to her pretend to understand what was going through his head. She didn't know the torture, worse than anything he had felt, at having to hear Harry's voice every single time he uttered Ron's name through the deluminator. She didn’t have to watch her love's head disappear around the corner and long to reach out and touch him. She didn't have to feel so unworthy. Ron made his way to the door, but found it to be magically sealed.

"You can't keep me here!" Ron shouted.

"No, no I cannot. But just give me a chance. Please, Ron, just talk to me," Audrey's slender fingers touched Ron's hand on the doorknob. The warmth of her touch immediately put Ron at ease. Ever since he began to talk about what happened to him, he'd needed the loving touches and friendly embraces so much that he nearly sighed in relief when ever someone touched him. It was the first time Audrey had crossed that line and touched him and Ron felt immediate trust in her like nothing he had felt since that awful ordeal.

Ron relaxed and pulled his hand off the door. Audrey took off the charm and let the door slide open a crack. "It's open. You're not trapped in here," Audrey said calmly, sitting down in her high backed leather chair. Ron stayed standing, but made no move to leave.

"I hear his voice all the time," Ron whispered, pulling out the deluminator and gripping it tightly in his hand.

"Is that the deluminator you told me about?" She asked quietly. Ron nodded his head. "You hear Harry speaking your name?"

"He says it every day in some way, most times more than just once," Ron said, remembering Harry's tenor resonating from his pocket at all hours of the day, reminding him of what he could never have.

"Why don't you go to him? Doesn't that mean that's where your heart is leading you?" Audrey said, still maintaining her unbreakable calm.

"Because I can't fucking stand it!" Ron shouted miserably, the tears once again welling up in his eyes. He was tired of crying, tired of being so broken. The thought of Harry seeing him in pieces could just add to the pile of things certain to make Harry reject him.

"What? Being touched? You seem to be okay with some physical affection now. No one is going to hurt you, Ron," Audrey whispered gently.

"It's not that! I know Harry would never hurt me…physically," Ron said, his shaking legs giving out and placing him back on the sofa.

"You're afraid he'll reject you," Audrey said. It wasn’t a question.

"How could he love me? Those men, those fucking Deatheaters, they used me. They touched me. They did things not even Harry's done. I'm covered in scars and I'm completely used up. I still feel like part of me belongs to those sick fucks. Harry would never love me like this," Ron said, his fists clenching tightly, as if to keep him from falling apart. "They FUCKED me Audrey. Fucked me without any lube or oil, fucked me while I cried out in pain. They fucked me until I bled and cramped, then they left me to rot with their disgusting fucking filth dripping inside of me. If the thought makes me sick, how could Harry ever want to touch me again?" Ron said, feeling the sick rising in his throat.

Audrey, for her part, didn’t flinch at the awful truth. She already knew it all.

"They shoved their cocks in my mouth and made me suck them off, made me swallow. I was theirs, their little toy and I cried and begged for them to stop. I begged!" Ron curled up in a ball, hating himself for being so weak. He used to be so strong, so sure. After all they had been through during the war, Ron had so much faith in himself. It all disappeared in that dark basement and the quivering mass that was left would never be enough for Harry. Ron knew it.

"You know you had no choice," Audrey said matter-of-factly.

"I could have died!" Ron cried. "I could have let them kill me."

"No, Ron, no. Never say that. Why did you keep going?" Audrey said. They had never talked about his choice, never talked about what got him through the torture.

"I couldn't leave Harry," Ron croaked, the truth of it all hitting him hard in the chest. In the last few months, Ron had been running from what had kept him going in that basement. Harry. His Harry. And now he was turning his back on it all.

"So why have you left him now?" Audrey said in a soothing voice. "Why won't you give him the chance?"

"I'm a coward," Ron said weakly.

"We both know that's not true. Look at how much you've accomplished in the past two months! You've picked yourself up and kept a hold of all those things that make you amazing. You're nothing if not incredibly brave," She said, a determined edge to her voice that surprised Ron.

"I have to go meet Hermione," Ron said, turning to walk out of the room. Audrey didn't say a word and he was thankful for it. The truth was weighing heavy on him and Ron knew what he had to do. He began to steel his body from the onslaught of fear and go head first into battle. But first, he needed to lay those fears out on the table to the only other person in the world who knew him like Harry did.

"Ron…"

Harry's broken voice coming from the deluminator broke Ron out of his reverie. He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists as he thought about what he must do. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled the deluminator out. His chest glowed with a faint blue light when he flicked open the cap and Ron let it lead him. He'd go to Harry now. He needed Harry and needed Harry to know that he didn't leave.

He found himself in the backyard at Grimmauld Place, the dark of the night watered down by the lights of the city. He saw Harry there, sitting against a wall, his head thrown back and tears falling down his cheeks. Ron paused to look at Harry…to really look at him. Harry’s smooth, tan skin and unruly black hair were the same as they had always been, making Ron feel instantly like he was coming back home. His strong jaw line and muscular chest twitched slightly with the cries he was attempting to hold in. Over the past few months, Ron had avoided letting his eyes linger for too long, fearful of the hurt it could bring. In this moment, Ron was bathed in memory and he knew now why Harry was his reason to keep going. All Ron wanted to do was wrap his arms around Harry and drown in him. He cringed slightly, hoping Harry would at least oblige him that.

Ron kneeled carefully next to Harry, reached out and used his thumb to wipe away the tears. Harry just smiled.

"It almost feels real this time. I'm not going to open my eyes…let it last just a little longer," Harry turned his head, grabbed Ron's hand and began to kiss along his fingertips and down over his palm. When Harry's lips found the scars left over from the magically conjured chains Ron was once in, he froze. Ron winced and turned his head to the side, afraid to look at Harry.

"Ron," Harry gasped. Ron's first reflex was to pull away, to run, but Harry gripped him tighter. "Please, Ron. Please don't go."

Ron sat completely still, Harry's fingers still wrapped around his wrist, looking at the light reflecting on the grass. Slowly and with tremors running through his body, Ron looked up and met Harry's eyes. Even in the dark, the green stood out vibrantly against the whites of Harry's eyes and a rush of memory flooded back to Ron; The first time he saw Harry, trying to get to the platform...The day he climbed up and became the knight on the chessboard…Them battling spiders in the forest…Throwing himself in front of Sirius Black's wand to save Harry…That awful, gut wrenching feeling of watching Harry nearly die during the triwizard tournament…Running his hand over Harry's back when he had another nightmare…Wrapping his arms around Harry when he cried over Dumbledore…Pulling him from that icy pool…Watching Harry's dead body curled up in Hagrid's large grip…kissing down Harry's bare chest…watching Harry moan and call his name as he came. It was all there, surrounding Ron in so much that he nearly couldn't breathe. It was always for Harry.

"Harry…Harry…" Ron whispered, unable to find the rest of his voice. He wanted to apologize, to tell him he loved him, to tell him how scared he was…but all that seemed to come out was his name.

"Shhhhh," Harry said, his thumb resting lightly on Ron's lips. Ron turned into his hand and kissed his palm. He heard Harry sigh heavily and closed his eyes at the sound.

Harry rose onto his knees in the grass and Ron echoed his movements, their bodies now nearly touching. He arched his back slightly when Harry's fingers began to card through his hair, enjoying the chills that ran down his spine. He hasn't had that feeling since before…

"Ron…can I?" Harry said, his voice shaking. Ron opened his eyes to see Harry's arms up, his hands hovering at Ron's shoulders. "It's…um…well…we can…it's okay, Ron. Whatever you want…"

Ron was startled by Harry's stammering and the thundering realization that Harry was just as scared and timid. He wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him as close as he possibly could. He breathed in Harry's scent. He let the spikes of Harry's unruly hair tickle his nose, finding an immeasurable solace in the familiar feeling. Ron could feel Harry's shoulders shaking and it brought all of the times he heard Harry's voice in the deluminator, all of the nights he'd spent needing Harry and almost rushed to his side to mind.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry," Ron whispered, running his hand up and down Harry's strong, firm back. "I shouldn't have avoided you, I shouldn't have left. I was such a coward…"

"No, Ron. Don't start any of that. You're here now…you're here. I just want…I need. Oh gods, Ron. I was so scared, so worried you would never want to be near me again!" Harry buried his face back in Ron's neck.

"It was unforgivable. The entire time I was in there…the whole time they were…well, I stayed alive for you. I kept going just to see you again and then I couldn't. I didn't think you would…" Ron stumbled over his words, afraid to say all of his worst fears out loud to Harry.

Harry pulled his head back and placed his hands gently on either side of Ron's face. He pressed his forehead against Ron's and he could feel the faint outline of his fading scar against his own skin. He looked down, too afraid of being completely exposed to meet Harry's eyes.

"Look at me, Ron." Harry said firmly. Ron looked up, startled at Harry's intensity. "I will always love you, no matter what. Always. Don't ever think otherwise. I know this is still really new for us, but we've had years together. We're just at the next step now, the step where I can tell you I love you and need you and that nothing can change that," Harry's voice began to catch in his throat. "Please, believe me."

"I want to," Ron whispered, his breath bouncing back on him from Harry's face.

"Please, Ron," Harry was begging. They were on their knees, holding tightly to one another and Harry was pleading. His hands were now fisted in the back of Ron's shirt, like he was afraid Ron would disappear if he didn't hold tightly to him and his voice was tragically desperate. Ron's heart broke for Harry, but in that moment, the gaping hole inside of him felt like it was beginning to fill.

"Yes," Ron whispered and suddenly Harry's lips were on his own. He hadn't felt Harry’s kiss in so long, it lit up his entire body. Everything that had lain dormant, that Ron had thought died inside of him, seemed to flare up in that one endless moment. Ron wanted to pull away, even though he was amazed at the feeling, he worried that Harry would begin to think about what those men did. Once he remembered he wouldn’t want Ron, wouldn’t want his mouth on Ron's. Harry must have noticed Ron's jaw go slightly slack because he pulled back. Harry's eyes spent a moment searching Ron, almost like he was reading a defined set of words across Ron's features.

"Ron. This is us. It's just you and me here. I want you and I'll always want you. Please, don’t even think that," Harry murmured between pressing light kisses over Ron's eyelids when he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Ron wanted to believe him, he wanted to believe every word and just let go of all of the pain and doubt that had been plaguing him. He was okay now, he knew he was. He wanted to feel Harry again. He wanted so badly to feel good enough, to feel worthy of Harry.

Ron, tired of all of the want, pulled Harry close to him without any more hesitation.

They began to kiss frantically, throwing every emotion they could against each other in the cool night air. Ron eventually laid Harry down in the grass, kissing along his neck and licking the tendons there in the way that he knew drove Harry mad. He wanted to sigh every time Harry ran his hands over his body. To feel so loved, so worshipped was something Ron never thought would happen to him again. Having his Harry there underneath him made everything feel infinitely more hopeful. He felt Harry roll his hips beneath him and for the first time since before he was tortured, Ron felt a jolt between his legs. He froze again.

"We don't have to…I'm sorry…this is too fast…" Harry was stammering, trying to get out from his position.

"No, it's okay, Harry. It's just that I haven't…this is the first time that I've felt…ummm…randy since….well…" Ron was stammering too, and quickly loosing faith in their communication skills. Instead of talking, he moved a hand to Harry's hip, holding him firmly in place and pressing himself against Harry's hardness. Harry moaned desperately and Ron felt an even more intense jolt coil at the base of his spine.

"Fuck, Ron," Harry croaked as they developed a rhythm against each other. Ron found himself fumbling for Harry’s zipper, desperate for more contact. Harry let out a needy moan and pressed his erection into Ron’s hand.

Ron felt powerful, he felt like someone sexual instead of just a used up piece of Deatheater garbage. When his hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, Ron sighed, an enormous weight of tension seeming to leave him. Harry was aching with need for him. He wasn’t disgusted. Ron knew that Harry said he would always love and want him, but to feel it felt so good and so real. After the awful journey it took to get him to this point, Ron could hardly believe he made it through.

Ron was so focused on Harry that he didn’t even realize that Harry’s hands were creeping lower. He felt Harry’s hand dip inside of his pants and his fingertips brushed over his throbbing cock. Unbidden images of masked men, taunting him, pulling at his flaccid cock, threatening to cut him up took over Ron’s mind. Harry must have sensed the change, because his entire body froze.

"Kiss me, Harry," Ron whispered. They weren’t going to win. They weren’t going to ruin Ron anymore. Harry kissed him, slowly, gently, his tongue sweeping across Ron’s lip. He could feel the arousal rush back to him, pushing all of those dark, awful memories away and forcing him to think only of Harry. He imagined the way Harry looked when he came, focusing on each little gasp and moan as he pumped Harry’s cock.

Harry kissed along Ron’s neck and moved his hand back under the waist of Ron’s pants. This time, the memory of Harry’s touch and the anticipation of more spurned Ron forward. He placed his hand over Harry’s and lined up their leaking cocks, rubbing them together and groaning.

"Oh Ron, you feel so good," Harry groaned. "It’s been so long, I’m not going to last."

"Come Harry, come for me," Ron whispered, his own orgasm approaching quickly after months of inactivity. Harry convulsed beneath him and Ron felt his own body begin to tense.

"I love you, Ron. Love you so much," Harry moaned as hot fluid spilled over Ron’s hand. Hearing the words felt so good to Ron, it washed over him and he finally let go, his orgasm lasting longer than he’d ever felt before.

They lay there for a few wonderful moments, Ron resting his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, until his arms got too tired to hold himself up.

"We’re wet," Ron said, smiling as he brushed bits of wet grass from Harry’s hair.

"And sticky," Harry said, grinning.

"I think maybe I need a shower," Ron said, getting up and hastily zipping his pants. "Do you mind if I…"

"Ron, this is still your house," Harry said solemnly.

"Alright, I’ll just pop up into my loo and wash real quickly."

"Want some company?" Harry said, running a hand down Ron’s arm.

Ron stiffened. He didn’t think he could entertain the thought of Harry seeing him naked, seeing all of the scars…the curse marks permanent reminders of what he went through. He couldn't take Harry’s scrutinizing gaze, or worse, a pitying look. He ran through his mind, trying to think of an excuse. He wanted things to keep moving forward with Harry and didn’t want to obstruct that with his own fears.

"On second thought, I think I’d rather start some tea," Harry said hastily, as though he was yet again reading Ron’s thoughts across his forehead.

Ron went upstairs and started a shower. A feeling of easiness washing over him as he noticed his bathroom had been kept clean and fully stocked with all of his usual items. Harry knew he’d come back…he always comes back. He undressed, avoiding the mirror and let the water fall over him. Ron washed quickly, anxious to get down to Harry again. After so long, he just wanted to spend every moment he could with Harry.

Ron was suddenly struck with a sullen thought: If he couldn’t be naked in front of Harry, how could they ever move forward? He remembered Audrey’s words earlier that day, about how he was brave for simply making it through, but Ron wanted to do more than make it. He wanted to be with Harry again…to really be with him. He sighed as he toweled himself off, yet again steeling himself. He slipped on some pajama pants (still kept for him in the top drawer of his dresser) and didn’t put a shirt on as he padded softly down the stairs.

"It looks like all I’ve got is the breakfast tea. I’m sorry I don’t have that chamomile stuff you like to drink at night…" Harry turned around and his words caught in his throat. Ron shook a little as a drop of water ran down his back, pausing and shifting as it hit the prominent scars. He had a couple of slashes across his torso as well, a result nasty ‘reducto’ curse done with morbid precision. The healers managed to seal him up, stop the bleeding and end the pain, but magical wounds always left a permanent mark. He saw Harry’s vision get stormy, his hands clench at his sides and his muscles ripple menacingly beneath his thin shirt.

Ron couldn’t stand to look at Harry, didn’t want to see the look of pity move across his lover’s face. Harry had always seen Ron as his equal and this would make Ron feel like a victim all over again. He turned his head slightly to the side. He jumped when he felt Harry’s thick, callused fingers ghost over the deep, white line running diagonally across his chest. Then, both of Harry’s warm hands were splayed across Ron’s chest. He looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. There was no pity there, there was a bevy of emotions flitting across Harry’s dark features, but he wasn’t looking at Ron like a wounded animal.

Ron groaned, grateful, in love and relieved. He grabbed the back of Harry’s head and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Without even breaking their contact, Ron watched Harry float the teacups back into the sink with a flick of his hand. Harry pushed Ron against the table, his desire pressing against Ron’s leg.

"Already?" Ron said, smiling shyly.

"Making up for lost time," Harry smirked, a slightly predatory look in his eyes. Ron really loved it when Harry gave him that look. "This okay?" Harry said, a question marring his features for a moment.

"I want you, Harry," Ron said, leaning up to kiss him.

"Just tell me…" Harry started, kissing down Ron’s neck.

"I will."

Suddenly, Harry was yanking Ron’s pajamas down his thighs. Ron wasn’t ready for that, not by a long shot, but he didn’t want to back down now. He didn’t want to be afraid of Harry even for a moment. Horror struck him as he realized there were scars across his groin too and as Harry was kissing reverently and slowly up his legs, panic was trying to overtake Ron’s resolve.

There was a gasp and a shudder and Harry’s hands tightened on Ron’s thighs for a moment. Ron cringed, waiting for words of sympathy and a stop to any and all activities. However, he jumped in the next moment when he felt Harry’s tongue lick across where he knew his scars to be. Ron moaned softly, feeling like Harry was painting over all of the darkness and pain, adding his own colors.

When Harry wrapped his lips around Ron’s cock, Ron cried out and dug his fingernails into the kitchen table. He tried to keep from thrusting up into Harry’s mouth and he put his hands in Harry’s hair hoping to hold him steady as well. All too soon, Harry pulled away and kissed up Ron’s chest, licking the scars that weaved across his flesh. As Harry’s lips came up to meet Ron’s, his fingers begin to move into Ron’s cleft. It was something they had never done together before, but an area Ron was fearfully familiar with. He bit his lip as he fought the urge to curl up in a ball.

"Shhhh, Ron. This is us. This is you and me. I’ll always love you," Harry whispered, murmuring a lubrication spell under his breath. Ron felt the cold liquid drip against his sensitive skin. "Open your legs."

Ron let his legs fall to the side, nervous but calmed slightly by the amount of trust he felt for Harry. He was Harry’s and no one else’s. Everything they did now erased anything anyone else had done to him before. Ron clenched for a moment when he felt one of Harry’s fingers breach him, but a few whispered words from the other wizard and he was relaxing again. When Harry crooked a finger upwards, Ron bucked up, crying out and wanting more.

Harry smiled triumphantly before dipping his head down and kissing a path back down Ron’s body. As Harry added a second finger and stretched Ron further, he once again took Ron’s cock in his mouth. Ron gripped Harry’s hair tightly, moaning deep from within his chest as Harry’s fingers pumped in an out of him, hitting that spot over and over again.

"Harry, Harry I’m close," Ron warned, trying to keep his hips still. He whimpered when Harry’s mouth left him. Suddenly, Ron felt Harry lick a path across his tight ring of muscle and wrap his fingers around his aching cock. When Harry’s tongue entered him, Ron came instantly and hard, crying out Harry’s name. He felt like Harry owned him, like the specter of no memory could break through them at this point.

"You okay?" Harry asked, casting a cleansing spell and looking down at Ron with a striking uncertainty…like he had gone too far and ruined everything.

"Fuck, Harry," Ron groaned, Pulling Harry down into a kiss. He tasted like strawberries, overlaying a musky taste. "Let me…" Ron reached down, taking Harry in hand again. Harry’s cock pulsed almost immediately, spilling across Ron’s chest. Ron gasped at the warmth across his bare skin; shocked that Harry came again so quickly.

"You’re so beautiful. Nothing could change how I feel about you, Ron. Please tell me you believe me," Harry said, desperately begging again.

"I do…right now. I can’t make any promises that thoughts won’t pop into my head every now and then though, Harry. I don’t know if I’ll ever be altogether again," Ron said sadly.

"You’re still Ron. You’re my Ron," Harry said, kissing him softly.

"Let’s have a kip?" Ron said, running his hand down Harry’s smooth back.

As Ron slid between the sheets of their bed, he felt a sense of peace that he thought would never come over him again. He rolled onto his side and felt Harry wrap his hands around his waist and pull his back against his chest. Harry held him a little too tightly and Ron could have sworn he felt tears running down his back. Too afraid to face anything more that night, Ron just gripped Harry’s hands tightly in a gesture reassuring him that they would talk about it later.

Right now, he just wanted to sleep, listening to Harry’s deep breathing and feeling comfortable in his own skin for the first time in months.

(((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))

Part I

Part III