Naked
Draco wriggled out of Ron’s sweaty embrace and went to the chest of
drawers. He blushed a little as he took his pyjama bottoms out of the
bottom drawer and got into them – he could feel Ron’s eyes raking over him, as hot and intrusive as his fingers had been twenty minutes earlier.
“What are you doing?”
“What
does it look like?” Draco would have snapped the words, but his body
was still buzzing pleasantly, and Ron was stretched naked over his bed
like a pasha. Ron’s blue eyes were heavy with sleep, but they still made
Draco’s stomach clench as they rested proprietarily on his chest.
“It looks like you’re putting on pyjamas,” Ron said, frowning at him. “Are you planning to wear clothes to bed with me?”
Something stuttered in Draco’s chest. But some automatic instinct inside him – the same thing that made him hum Weasley is our King
every time they played pick-up Quidditch with the lads – stopped him
showing it. He took out his pyjama top, defiantly, and shrugged it on.
Ron’s
eyes, much bluer than the sea-blue pyjamas, watched Draco’s hands as he
buttoned the top. “You shouldn’t. I sleep naked, and it’s wonderful!”
Ron threw all his limbs in the air, then sprawled onto the mattress
again, as if to demonstrate. He was wearing a smug expression. And
nothing else, which was really emphasised by the way his legs were
currently spread-eagled.
Draco felt himself blushing harder,
lines of hot pink blazing down his cheekbones. He tried not to look at
Ron’s cock (his mind stuttered over the word) and tried not to make it
obvious that he wasn’t looking.
Stupid Ron. No decorum whatsoever. He didn’t have to have it all hanging out like that, did he?
“Draco,” said Ron, voice rich and slow with amusement. “Are you blushing?”
“No!” Draco retorted, his voice too vehement, and Ron started laughing.
It
was a wonderful sound, deep and unselfconscious and ringing round the
room. Draco’s usual snarling response to anyone laughing at him was
failing to materialise, and it left him feeling rather odd. Sort of soft
and squirmy in the stomach area, and the exact opposite of soft
elsewhere.
“I always forget you’re a little innocent,” Ron
grinned. Draco narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but Ron kept
going. “Is that why you’re putting pyjamas on? Scared I’ll molest you in
the night?”
He was not an innocent, he just... well, it
had been the war, and then nobody really wanted to with him. He wasn’t
used to this sort of thing. Nobody had wanted to do anything with him
since he, and they, had been fifteen. A man who was unashamed of his
desires, and grown-up in what he wanted to do about them, had come as
something of a culture shock.
“You don’t have free rein to touch
me in the night, Weasley,” he said, drawing his face into a scowl with
some difficulty. Draco crossed the floor, and climbed back into bed.
“And I like pyjamas.”
He was perched on the edge of the mattress,
facing away from Ron. He could feel Ron’s gaze boring into the back of
his neck, currently the only bit of skin on show. He shut his eyes
tightly.
There was a soft, amused noise, and Ron’s hand fell
heavily onto his hip. Draco jerked in surprise and opened his mouth.
Before he could say anything, Ron had pressed close behind him, warm and
solid and naked all along his back.
Draco shut his mouth again
and tried to relax. He had an idea that cuddling and spooning and
suchlike was a common thing for couples to do in bed, and he couldn’t
bear to make his inexperience even more obvious. Besides, this was nice.
Ron was cuddling him, warm and protective and sweet. Like a teddy bear.
There was no reason to feel threatened.
He curled up a little tighter, his arms in front of his chest and his legs curled into a comma.
Ron’s
thumb was rubbing the small, bare bit of skin above the waistband of
his pyjama bottoms. Draco made a small noise and refused to open his
eyes.
The rubbing felt nice, though. And Ron’s fingers were clenching the material of his pyjamas a little.
Draco stayed still, but couldn’t keep back a small hmm of pleasure.
Ron’s thumb kept rubbing at his hip, then slowly his hand slipped round to touch Draco’s hardening cock.
Draco
shuddered a little, squirming, then pushed forward into the hand. Draco
kept his eyes resolutely closed, which only made the pleasure of Ron’s
big hand cherishing his cock more intense. Ron rubbed him through his
pyjamas, the soft material rubbing over his cock, catching on the head.
He was breathing hard into Draco’s ear, and the warm air on Draco’s neck
shivered. Ron’s palm massaged Draco’s shaft before his fingers gently
teased the head. Draco moaned.
At the sound Ron pushed forward,
his tensed chest suddenly pressed against Draco’s narrow back and his
bare cock nudging at Draco’s arse. Draco’s body prickled pleasurably all
over at the knowledge of how close Ron’s cock is, how if he just
scooted out of the pyjamas Ron could slide inside him so easily. Draco
pressed his head into the pillow and the smell of Ron’s hair surrounded
him.
“C’mon,” Ron grunted, his voice strained. His hands were
suddenly pulling Draco onto his back. Draco resisted for form’s sake
then let it happen, his eyes still tightly shut. Ron paused for a long
moment, while Draco’s tension spiralled. Then he felt Ron’s fingers
nudge at his chest: he was unbuttoning the pyjama shirt. Draco wondered
if Ron could feel his heart pounding.
Ron undid every button, one by one, until Draco could feel a strip of cool air over his bared chest. “Draco.”
His
voice was rumbling a little, and it plucked at Draco’s nerves like the
strings of an instrument. He shivered and let his legs fall open,
followed by his eyes.
Ron’s face was close, his deep blue eyes
darkened with lust and intent on him. Draco felt himself blush, and
leaned up to kiss him. Ron’s mouth was firm and soft, and his fingers
skated up the ladder of Draco’s ribs deliciously.
Draco felt
shudderingly naked. Ron’s face was so near his breath was puffing
against Draco’s lips, his blue eyes drinking in Draco’s expressions.
There was no way to hide Ron’s effect on him: the way his eyelids
fluttered at Ron’s fingers rolling his nipple, the way his mouth went
slack at the pinch.
They pushed the pyjama bottoms down together.
Draco flushed harder at the greedy way Ron eyed his cock, and Ron
nudged the back of his fingers over his cheek. “Adorable.”
Draco
tried not to pout. “Shut up and suck it, Weasley,” he snapped. He was a
Malfoy, being scary and sexually dominant was practically his
birthright.
...Eugh. He’d never meant to think about his father that way.
Then
every thought dropped out of his head, because Ron was sucking his
cock. Ron’s hot mouth swallowed him down, slow and steady and sweet.
Draco clutched the sheet in his hand and clenched his eyes shut. He
wasn’t going to disgrace himself by coming now, even if his whole
body felt hot and Ron’s smell was all around him and even if he
couldn’t see Ron’s lips stretched around his cock, he could hear it and
that was –
He groaned helpessly. “Oh God, Ron, you’re so – ”
Ron’s thick fingers were nudging between his cheeks. Draco spread his
legs further and felt Ron press two fingers inside his hole.
He
was still slick and loose from before but Ron was gentle with him. He
stretched and slicked him slowly, still working Draco’s cock. He pressed
his tongue to the sensitive spot under the head and found Draco’s
prostate together, and Draco broke.
“C’mon, fuck me! Stop playing
around and just – ” He stopped, flushing brilliantly, but it was okay:
Ron settled his heavy body between Draco’s thighs and the next moment
Draco lost his breath.
Ron’s cock slid inside him, heavy and
delicious, easing that ache he’d caused. Ron’s face was flushed, his
reddened lower lip caught between his teeth, his red hair stuck to his
face in sweaty tendrils. Draco ran a greedy hand over Ron’s shoulders,
feeling them work as he fucked him, and moaned into the space between
their lips.
“Fuck, Draco, I love that you’re so – so innocent and so not – ”
“I love how you fuck me.”
Ron thrust hard, his cock slamming all the way inside. Draco gave a breathless laugh.
“Like it when I say it, do you? Fuck me, fuck me, c’mon – ”
Ron
groaned and set his forehead against Draco’s shoulder, his hips still
hunching, pushing himself inside. Draco thrust up, pushing his cock
against Ron’s stomach, seeking friction.
Ron’s hands were all
over him, clutching at his thigh, sliding along his ribs, pinching and
rolling a nipple. No one had ever seemed so happy to have Draco naked
under him, so eager to take advantage of all the bare flesh. And Ron’s
hands were fantastic; Draco groaned under him, pressing against the
touches, seeking more.
Then one hand wrapped around his cock. Ron
was fucking him harder now, thumping inside him, brushing his prostate.
Draco met every thrust, fucking back, wanting to match Ron as best he
could – and then Ron’s cock thumped firmly against that spot inside him
and twisted on the head of his cock and Draco threw back his head as his
legs stiffened and he came, shuddering, into Ron’s hand.
Ron
groaned, the sound loud and raw, and fucked Draco straight through his
orgasm and beyond. Draco lay shuddering under him, oversensitive, as
Ron’s thick cock pounded him and Ron’s hands enjoyed him. Then Ron’s
face clenched, his blue eyes finally hidden as they closed, and he came.
He
lowered his head onto Draco’s collarbone and panted as they came down
from the high. His hot breath on Draco’s collarbone made him squirm a
little, but there was no way he could get it up again tonight. He felt
wrung out.
Ron’s hair smelled fucking fantastic. Draco traced the muscles of his back with one hand and grinned up at the ceiling. I’m having sex with him, he told it. He’s all mine. I am the greatest at everything.
Except sex. Draco would happily accept second place there.
After
a while, Ron turned his head and spoke against Draco’s skin, breath
spangling damply over Draco’s nerves. “So have I converted you to naked
sleeping?”
Draco snorted. “Please. If pyjamas get me sex like that? No way. You shot yourself in the foot, Weasley.”
Ron
pushed up to kneel next to Draco. For a moment he looked flabbergasted,
his mouth working but no sound coming out. Then the shock melted off
his face, to be replaced by amusement. He shook his head. “Well, at
least the plaid means other people won’t get to see you naked by
chance... and if I get to strip those big pyjamas off you and have you
bare for me, I think I could come round to pyjamas for bed.”
He
slid back down on the bed and Draco wriggled into place in his arms.
Their naked cocks brushed against each other, and Draco caught his
breath.
Well, there was still time to change his mind...
