Chapter Text
Third Year
It started as comfort. The first time Harry had ever climbed into Ron’s bed for the night was when they were thirteen. Ron knew Harry had the occasional nightmare, they all did, especially during first year as they were young boys away from home for the first time. Third year had been Harry’s tipping point, however. The Dementors, learning of Sirius Black, as well as all the mess of the last two years, had finally caught up with him.
Harsh breathing woke the redhead up just for him to see Harry sitting straight up on his bed. His knees were tucked into his chest with his arms around them. At that moment he looked so very small as he shook like he’d been drenched in chilled water.
“Harry?” Wet eyes looked up at Ron and reminded him of Ginny when she’d have nightmares. So he did the same thing he did with her, scooted over in his bed and patted the empty space for Harry to come and lie down. Jumping at the chance, the brunet slipped out of his covers and into Ron’s. No words were spoken, just a soft kiss to the forehead because that’s what always made Ginny feel better and an offer to hold hands. He woke up the next day with Harry’s face in his hair.
Fourth Year
The next time they shared a bed was the night before they went to the Quidditch World Cup. Harry had been excited between getting to go to the greatest wizarding sporting event and being able to contact Sirius more freely than at Privet Drive. They had stayed up, of course, playing chess, exploding snap, and exactly one game of Gobstones before tumbling into Ron’s bed, Harry’s cot forgotten. They woke up in a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as Hermione pounded on the door for them to get up and come down for breakfast.
~~
This time when Harry climbed into Ron’s bed, he came uninvited. Ron had been angry with him. The redhead was never good at admitting jealousy, especially when it came to Harry. Harry just seemed to get everything. He was the Chosen One, a hero who vanquished the Dark Lord in his infancy. And now he was the unforeseen fourth champion of the Tri (meaning bloody THREE) wizard Tournament. If he wins he’d get eternal glory and all that like he wasn’t already a bloody legend. Sure, they had reconciled after the first task, but hanging around Harry again just made it easier for him to remember why he avoided him. No one failed to remind him just how special his best mate was. Stupid Malfoy, though mockingly, even reminded him that Harry was oh so very cool for being a champion (even if he cheated to be one, not that Ron beleived, maybe) and Ron was subpar in comparison to him.
Okay, so he wasn’t mad at Harry specifically. But that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to him at the moment. The quickest way to make your problems go away was by ignoring them after all.
“Ron.” He feigned sleep when he heard the voice in his ear. Sure, Harry saved him that day, not that he chose to be a hostage, but he was still peeved. It warmed him to know that out of everyone, he was the one that Harry would miss most. But at the same time, he was a tad bit embarrassed at being the only male damsel in distress.
His covers shifted and mattress depressed as Harry climbed in fully. An arm wrapped around him and pulled him into Harry’s firm -how Harry was putting on muscle, he’d never know- chest. His face burned red as he thanked Merlin that the light was out. Harry was holding him like they were a-
“Do you have any idea how scared I was? All the way down to the lake I was looking for you. I needed to see you before I went there, just to find out you were part of my task.” The arm around him tightened. They stayed like that all night and in the morning they made up. Again. Ron never asked about the way Harry’s fingers played along the hem on his nightshirt and brushed his hip bones and Harry never mentioned it.
~~
“RON!” Ron sighed thanking Hermione for making sure he actually learnt that silencing spell. After one night of Harry waking all of them up twice within the same hour, Seamus looked about ready to cast a spell himself. Before Ron could even make a motion to get up, Harry was already in his bed, wrapping his arms around him.
“It was you. He killed you this time instead of Cedric. We were outside the Burrow, by the pond, and he came and killed you with the curse.” Ron sighed pulling Harry into his own hug. The nightmares had gotten worse since Cedric died.
A lot worse.
He admitted that he was at his wit’s end with Harry. He’d try to talk to him about what he’d seen just to be shut down as his friend clammed up about whatever he saw. All he could do was hug him and let him cry, but that wasn’t enough. Especially now that the dream had been about him and not Cedric.
“What can I do Harry? What can I do to make it better?” Ron pleaded just a little bit.
“I wanna know you’re here. That you’re here and with me,” the crying teen whispered back. Two clammy hands cupped Ron’s face and before he could ask what was going on, cold wet lips were upon his. The kiss was sloppy from Harry’s inexperience (not that Ron had any himself) with their teeth clinking together awkwardly. Harry’s lips were salty from his tears. The brunet let go and dug his face into the crook of Ron’s neck breathing in and out.
They woke up hugging each other the next morning. Neither of them mentioned the kiss as they got ready to ride the train back to King’s Cross.
Fifth Year
The next night was in Grimmauld Place. With the Dementor attack, Harry went back to having nightmares about them only this time they were commanded by Voldemort. It was a mess of emotions every night, especially as Harry’s trial drew closer.
“Ron, I need you.” In any other case, it would have been weird to hear that from his best friend. But he understood what it meant. At this point, Ron didn’t even bother sleeping in the middle of his bed anymore as Harry would eventually join him despite going to sleep in his own bed every night.
“What do you need Harry?” Ron asked as he felt his friend’s breath on his cheek. A hand wandered his chest slowly as if it were looking for something. The Gryffindor gasped, snapping fully awake as his nipple was caught between two fingers.
“Sorry! I know it’s weird- I just- Can I- I wanted to feel better- I don’t know why- Goodnight Ron,” Harry bulldozed through his one sentence after the other trying to get something out before he called it quits and moved from beside him. Whether it be reflex or understanding, the ginger reached out to grab his friend and pulled him back into bed with him. Harry needed him and even if it was weird, he could give him what he asked for.
“Go ahead, it’s okay,” he said assured bringing the hand back to his chest. His shirt was soon lifted, exposed to the cool air of the old building. Hands roamed his freckled chest until his nipples were rubbed to hardness. With a soft thank you, Harry shifted so his face was level with Ron’s chest. His warm breath caressed the sensitive buds before he closed his mouth over one of them and sucked.
It felt weird but in a good way. Harry only bit him once by accident but after that it was alright. He would go as far as to say he enjoyed it. His hand went to Harry’s unruly hair and ran through it, lightly scratching his scalp.
~~
“Ron, I need it,” Harry said with his cheeks tinged red. With wide eyes, Ron grabbed his friend and pulled him up to their room. Harry had never mentioned needing him without the cover of darkness, so whatever happened to make him tell Ron in the middle of the common room must’ve been bad. He had just come back from detention with Umbridge, but it couldn’t have been any worse than with Filch or Snape.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked after he made sure they were alone.
“She has a quill. Makes you write in your own blood, it was horrible Ron.” Ron swallowed. That was much much worse than anything Filch or Snape made them do, “I just need you right now. Please.” Without another word, Ron opened up his button down an allowed Harry to attach himself. Soft suckling noises soon filled their small enclosed area. He had made sure to cast the same silencing charms from last year on their new room so no noise would leave beyond the boundary set by his bed and the wall Harry’s was against.
Harry’s hand had taken to rubbing up on the other nipple, twisting and pulling it between his fingers. He scratched at it softly with his finger pad, rough from the work Harry did as a child. Ron’s breathing became more laboured as the play got harder and faster. The occasional nip was accompanied with a harsh tug with Harry’s fingers causing both nipples to become red and pulsing.
“Hey, calm down. It’s starting to feel weird.” By that, Ron meant that it started affecting his groin. He willed his cock to behave as the ministrations continued, “Harry,” he whined at a particularly hard bite. Green eyes looked up into his, the nipple still between his lips. Harry popped off with a small apology. His hands quickly returning to his sides.
“Sorry, I got carried away…” Harry trailed off wiping the saliva from his mouth. He looked down at the golden sheets. Hermione always said he lacked “emotional range" and while she was right for the most part, it wasn’t like that when it came to Harry. He could read Harry like a first year charms lesson, and right now Ron knew there was something else the bespectacled teen had on his mind, but he didn’t know if he should push it or not.
“Harry,” he began, “What is it?” He prodded gently. If Harry shut down then he’d just drop it, but this was one of those times he hoped that the Boy-Who-Lived would rely on him instead of trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Remember last year. When I had that dream about you dying instead of Cedric?” Harry asked looking back up at him. Ron always thought he had pretty eyes even though that’d be a weird thing to tell his friend. And right now those eyes were staring into his.
“Yeah. You kissed me.” Harry shuddered at his words. Ron frowned, why would that matter? They’d obviously done weirder things than kiss. Besides, he had kissed Dean (they both lost that stupid drinking game Seamus made up and their punishment was to kiss, not that Ron really minded giving his friend a quick peck with all that smuggled fire whiskey in his system) and he’d given Hermione her fair share of forehead and temple kisses. Not to mention the kind of person his mum was. Kissing was no big deal, even if it had been on the lips. They only did it once and it was for comfort.
“What would you say if I wanted to do it again?”
“I’d say okay,” Ron answered immediately. Harry frowned deeply causing Ron’s heart to twist uncomfortably. Did Harry not want to kiss him? Did he regret their kiss?
“Ron. I love you.”
“I love you too-”
“RON!” The redhead jumped back from the sudden outburst, “Just be quiet for a second. I love you, but not like I love Hermione. Do you get that?” Ron furrowed his brow for a moment until it clicked. Oh. That’s why Harry felt so weird about kissing him.
He tried to smile despite the pangs of unexplained sadness in his chest, “Oh, so you want me to help you get with ‘Mione. All you had to say-”
“Merlin, Ron. You really do have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I love you, you git. Not Hermione, not Cho. You. I want to kiss you because I want to be with you. Do you get that?”
Ron sat there with his mouth open before letting out a small oh.
“I never thought that. I thought it was all just for comfort and stuff.” His face grew hot as he remembered all the times he excused Harry’s actions. The “trying to get comfortable”, the “wand in his pocket”, the “sighs of relief”.
“Have you been...getting off to the thing we do?” Ron squeaked out.
Harry’s face flushed as well, “Only sometimes. I know it’s disgusting-”
“No! It’s fine. I just didn’t think you-”
“I never wanked while we did it! Even if I did get hard, I waited until after!” Harry blurted out. They both covered their tomato faces and groaned in abject embarrassment.
“Okay, so you’re in love with me and even though the thing started as comfort you started getting horny from it.”
“Can we stop calling it the thing . We’re not eleven Ron. I was sucking your tits,” Harry said bluntly causing them both to laugh like the immature teens they were.
“Don’t call them tits,” Ron said pushing the brunet playfully.
“They’re the cutest tits I’ve ever seen,” Harry cooed cupping the small amount of fat on Ron’s chest. He got closer to the redhead before giving him an experimental peck on the lips, “So um how do you feel about me mate?”
“Harry if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have let you get in bed with me in the first place.”
“So do you wanna be my boyfriend?” Harry asked with the same cheeky smiled Ron had been drawn to since their first year.
“And be even more stuck with you?” He replied with a grin of his own.