23 : Lovers
Title: Lovers
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter / Ron Weasley
Prompt: Lovers
Word Count: 1000
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Written for fanfic100 and posted at harryron.

The one hundred stories are inspired by Broke Back Mountain.

Ron looks back on one hundred memories of his life with and without Harry.

Enjoy.


Lovers
****
Harry and Ginny came over for dinner, yet again.

We were such stereotypical suburban couples.

It was sickening.

Some evenings I had to go into the bathroom and run my wrists under cold water to stop shaking.

But I was doing really well.

Until Harry and Ginny came over for dinner, yet again.

I was doing well, until I noticed that Harry wasn’t watching Ginny anymore.

He was watching me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I was about to run when Ginny spoke. “Oh, Harry, please can I tell them?”

Harry smiled wanly. “Of course you can, Gin,” he said.

Hermione sat up straighter, her six month pregnancy in her lap.

“I’m six weeks gone,” Ginny announced beaming.

Hermione went into raptures and Harry looked at me. “Congratulations,” I said weakly.

He smiled.

My heart sank a little bit. He could never leave her now. Not that I’d leave Hermione and my girls, but the option was there.

Sort of.

After letting the girls run on for a few minutes, he interrupted. “I had an idea,” he said and they both looked up. My heart started racing, although I had no idea why. “Before you both, well, explode – I thought maybe Ron and I could go away for a week somewhere – sort of, male bonding thingy?”

The girls looked at each other. “Fine by me, if you can go in the next couple of weeks, before I’m off work,” Hermione said, shrugging.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ginny said encouragingly. “You two have a busy year ahead of you, too!”

They both looked fondly at us and I wanted to kill him.

Doesn’t he think he should ask me if I want to go away with him?

Does he think I don’t realise what he wants?

Does he think he can just click his fingers and I’ll come running?

Harry looked down at his hands and swallowed.

He looked up and caught my eye.

“Sure,” I said, weakly. “It shouldn’t be a problem to get the time off work for either of us, the Quidditch season is over.”

They were both so pleased that we were making an effort; Hermione smiled warmly at me and I had to leave the room. She thought Harry and I would work through whatever our problem was before the babies came.

I felt like dirt.

I was half-heartedly putting stuff away in the kitchen when Harry came in and closed the door.

He looked very nervous and I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “You can’t just do this to me, Harry,” I whispered.

“We do need to talk about things, Ron,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything else.”

“You know we will,” I said dully and he shrugged.

“Please,” he said.

I nodded. “Just go home now, I need to get my head round the baby and stuff. Find somewhere for us to go, and I’ll go.”

****
Harry found a cottage in Northern Scotland.

“Why can’t you go somewhere sunny, like normal people?” Hermione asked.

“Since when has Harry been normal?” I asked, my back to her as I packed.

What was I supposed to say? We can’t go somewhere sunny – we’d come back without a tan, because we’ll have been fucking all week.

Harry and Ginny arrived and we said our goodbyes.

I felt like I was seeing everything through some sort of mist and all sounds were muted.

I wondered why I let him do this to me.

We Apparated to the cottage.

I snorted. It really was the perfect romantic location and I shook my head in wonderment. Did he really think we could just do this casually and then go home?

I threw myself in an armchair. “OK then, talk,” I said.

He sat on the coffee table by my feet. Too close. “Look, whatever happens, we can’t carry on like we have been. It’s destructive.”

I ran a hand over my face. “Harry, what is destructive is you fucking me every time you can’t cope with change in your life.”

He blinked. “I don’t…”

“You were freaked about trying for a baby, and now you need this,” I gestured between us, “because she is pregnant and you are stuck; you were freaked when you first came home; hell, you were freaked about You Know Who that summer.”

“No!” he snapped. “That summer… no, it… it wasn’t because I was freaking out. And when I came home, yes, I was scared... me… Ginny, but I saw you and I had to… and this… now…”

He closed his eyes. “I love you,” he said simply.

“Oh, Harry!”

“I know. I’ve messed everything up. But, I love you,” he sighed. “The past two years have felt like… like...”

“Like pressure building in a volcano,” I supplied, helpfully.

He leant forward and clasped my hand in both of his. “Yes!” he nodded frantically. “Seeing you, but not…”

“Harry,” I interrupted, pushing his hair out of his eyes with my free hand. “Are you suggesting we take a break like this to let off steam every now and again, and then go back to our wives?”

“No!” he said indignantly, and I raised my eyebrows. “That’s… just…. Yes?”

“Oh, Harry,” I sighed.

He looked so nervous, but I was there, wasn’t I?

I wouldn’t have been there if I wasn’t going to say yes.

To him.

To anything he wanted.

I pulled him up towards me and he made a surprised sound and then his eyes lit up and he was in my lap, straddling me.

And his hands were in my hair and his mouth descended on mine.

Mine.

He was right.

Right? This was far from right; this was so wrong.

But we needed it.

“Just every summer,” he whispered between kisses. “It’ll be OK,” as my shirt came off. “I have to be with you,” as he sucked on my neck. “It’ll be enough.”

“Shut up, Harry,” I said as I unzipped his jeans and slipped my hand inside.

He thrust into my hand as I rubbed him through his boxers. “So long,” he whispered. “Too long… want… yes…” and he came in my hand.

He laughed, shakily.

“Building like a volcano,” I sniggered.


My Big Damn Table.