rarry microfic | just a couple of boys on a summer afternoon
“We - mphf - shouldn’t be doing this - ”
Ron releases Harry’s bottom lip, breath short. “Says who?”
“I - ” Harry doesn’t know, really, but he wouldn’t have been able to answer anyway as Ron uses that moment to sink his teeth into the muscles straining at the base of Harry’s neck.
“Ah!”
Ron quickly muffles Harry’s cry with his palm, warm and calloused, and chuckles breathlessly. The sound vibrates pleasantly along Harry’s skin. “Shhh, mate, you want Mum to come check on us?”
Ron’s mouth is back on Harry’s in an instant, licking into him, and Harry whimpers helplessly. His hands are at Ron’s neck, fisted in the back of his t-shirt, drawing him as close as he possibly can. This is…wrong, somehow, surely, Harry thinks, buzzed on adrenaline and high on the sheer heat of Ron surrounding him, pressing him into the bright orange blankets of his bed.
They’re mates, Harry thinks wildly with Ron’s tongue running over his teeth.
It’s the most alive he’s felt possibly in his whole life, actually, it’s the least wrong thing he’s ever done, and he never wants it to stop.
Ron’s fingers slip under the hem of Harry’s shirt, softly stroking the skin of his belly as though he’s something to be cherished, to be worshiped, and Harry feels like he might cry.
He’s kissing his best mate, and he’s losing his goddamn mind.
He hopes it lasts forever.