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Ron was royally fucked.
He wasn’t sure whether his being fucked was a good thing or not quite yet but how could he?
He realized he’s in love with his best friend.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t that shocked. The two of them had been hanging out per usual. Laughing and drinking butterbeers in their flat and he’d looked over and, wearing a big smile, they’d shot the butterbeer out their noses at each other’s jokes and Ron found it so endearing.
His entire body felt warm and soft, and not just from the drink, but their shared smiles and laughter filling up the room. It was the most comfortable he’d felt in such a long time.
And when Harry’s eyes locked on Ron’s own, he couldn’t stop the thought from filtering through his head.
He’s in love with Harry.
It made Ron pause, startlingly so, but not because he was so shocked or scared but rather how he wasn’t.
Ron being in love with Harry just made so much sense to him that he was stunned at how he hadn’t realized it before.
However, by how quickly Ron stopped his laughing and drinking, which was quite rare even when they weren’t drunk, Harry quickly stopped as well, concern filtered in his bright green eyes.
“Ron? Mate,” Harry sat up and gripped Ron’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Ron blinked.
Was there something wrong? Was Ron’s feelings for his best friend something to be ashamed of, or at least upset by?
No, he didn’t think so.
A smile overtook his face, a wide and genuine one which Harry returned, albeit cautiously.
“Everything’s fine, Hare. Actually better than fine. Everything’s bloody fucking perfect, mate.”
*
It was strange at first. Harry, of course, wasn’t the first bloke he’d ever liked, but he was the first one he’d ever been in love with.
He’d been with Hermione for a while after the war. They’d loved each other before deciding that they both just made more sense as friends.
Especially when Hermione came out as asexual and said she didn’t really like relationships all that much, either, she just wanted to read.
Ron laughed and said he wasn’t surprised she found a book hotter than him. Knowledge was the most compatible for the brightest witch of her age. Always had been.
But now he looked at Harry and saw how much he really found him attractive.
In all honesty, Ron had always been attracted to his best mate. He may be oblivious at times but he wasn’t blind.
He knew how hot Harry was. He saw how others looked at him.
However, after realizing how deep his feelings went, he couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
Ron has and always will be the most perceptive to anything Harry Potter but it doesn’t change how he’s noticed more towards him.
More than how it drives him wild when Harry bites his lips when he’s thinking. When Harry forgets to shave or cut his hair. When Harry smirks smugly at him after a game of Quidditch at the Burrow. When his caramel cheeks are flushed red from the firewhisky he’s guzzled down.
More than all that (not that he doesn’t appreciate that, either).
Like how Harry always pets a dog or cat or owl or really anything when he crosses paths with an animal or creature. A pleased face will overtake his face anytime he does get to rub at the ickle things.
Like how he knows Harry loves to bake but never cook. He’s always scared of someone getting angry with him for messing up a meal but can’t wipe away a prideful grin when someone likes his cakes and tarts.
Like how Harry will shovel his food down for fear of someone taking it away from him. Like how Harry will try to always keep his showers and baths short.
Ron knows that his fears are a result of the abuse he put up with for years from the Dursley’s. He knows that they instilled a constant state of being less than in his head and Ron will stop at nothing to help change that. No one deserves happiness and security in oneself more than Harry Potter.
But Ron also sees how Harry never hesitates to say thank you for any small deed, even when it’s something as minimal as a free sample on Diagon Alley. He sees how Harry sits and reads with Teddy and tells him countless stories of the knight with the ever changing face but constant smile and the beast with a heart of gold and an always ready bar of chocolate that fell in love despite the odds. Sees how Harry allowed people to push and pick away at him and never let it affect him.
Ron just finds Harry irresistible is every possible way.
*
Ron didn’t necessarily think his feelings were unrequited but he didn’t expect Harry to return them in the way Ron did.
He knew Harry also found him attractive. Saw it in the way his eyes would darken when Ron would walk around the flat in only his boxers, his eyes trailed over the exposed pale and freckled skin. Saw it in the way Harry would swallow when the two both got a little too close for “best friends” when they both got a little too wasted. Saw it in the way Harry would clench his hands into fists when Ron smugly gloat after he’d win at Quidditch, too.
The problem for Ron was that he didn’t think he could settle for only fucking Harry once and never being with him again. He wanted more than that.
He wanted to grab Harry’s hand in his own and walk around in public. He didn’t care if the Daily Prophet twisted it into some dumb tabloid articles.
He wanted to pepper Harry’s face in kisses in their kitchen and lazily make out on the couch.
He wanted to wake up with his arms wrapped securely around his waist, whether from a nightmare or a sound night of rest. All that mattered to him was that Harry was there and was his.
Ron could settle for only ever being friends but he didn’t want to ever put himself through being some stupid one-night-stand with the one person who mattered more than anyone else.
So naturally they sleep together.
They’d been joking around in their living room, tossing back shots like it was nothing.
Which was pretty standard for them.
“Ha! 4 for me, Ronniekins. Suck it.” Harry giggled.
Ron rolled his eyes. “You are such a lightweight, Potter.”
Harry narrowed his eyes and then hiccuped, which didn’t really help him deliver in what he probably thought was an intimidating glare.
Ron found it extremely adorable and had to physically restrain himself from leaning in and putting one on him.
“I resent that, Weasley. You have no idea how much I can drink.”
“Yes I do. You’re like 5’5” and weigh 120 pounds. You can’t drink much more or you’ll die.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
Harry paused, “Yeah, I kind of do.”
Ron’s hand froze with his own shot halfway to his mouth. He quickly set it down on their coffee table. He cleared his throat. “Oh?”
Harry’s face was redder than it was and Ron knew it was due to more than just their cheap alcohol. “Yes. I wish to.” He looked away from Ron and rubbed the back of his neck but Ron could see his Adam’s apple bob, which he knew to be a telltale sign of arousal around him. “Fuck you, that is.”
Ron fiddled with a loose thread in his jeans. “You’re only saying this because you’re drunk.”
Harry shrugged. “Perhaps.”
Ron sighed. He knew it was too good to be true.
“But you know what they say about liquid courage.”
His blue eyes shot up to meet Harry’s green ones. His nervousness mirrored back to him, but the lust still there.
Ron cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Hare, come on, mate. I-we... This isn’t a good idea.”
“Do you not want me too,” Harry looked away and Ron could hear that ever familiar insecurity filter through his wavering voice. Harry’s jaw was clenched. Ron knew that he did that to keep himself from crying.
Ron jumped forward. “What! Of course I do. I want you so fucking bad, Harry. You wouldn’t believe it.”
Harry peaked at him through his long lashes. “You do?”
“Yes. Bloody hell!”
Harry smiled before he stopped, frowning. “Then what’s the problem?”
Ron gently held Harry’s face in his hands. “I don’t want either of us to regret this, okay? I...”
“You,” he prompted.
Ron inhaled. “I’m in love with you Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re what?”
“I love you,” Ron repeated, confidently. He brushed his thumb against his cheekbone. “You don’t have to say it back. There’s no pressure to return my feelings but I wanted you to know. I want you Harry. I love you. But I don’t want to just sleep with you and that be the end of it. I want more than that with you.”
Harry stayed silent for several minutes. Ron continued brushing his thumb on his cheek, content to just watch him and wait for a response, whether good or bad.
Eventually Harry seemed to come out of his head. “Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Yes,” Harry nodded before his face broke out in a wide smile. “I love you, too, Ron. Wow! Never thought I would get to say it.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t think you liked me or even saw me past being your best friend,” Harry admitted, shy.
“You are my best friend,” Ron pointed out. “But you’re also my best friend I happen to be in love with.”
“Yeah,” Harry whispered. He blushed. “So, just to clear everything up, you do want me?”
Ron chuckled and kissed Harry. Their lips brushed against each other’s before deepening it. Ron licked his lip, making him moan, allowing him to slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth.
They broke apart but Ron couldn’t stop. He sucked into Harry’s neck, marking it, and trailed kisses up his jaw to his ear. He licked the shell of Harry’s ear before gently biting it.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, Harry.”
“Fuck, Ron.”
“That’s the plan.”
Harry laughed and shoved at his chest before standing up and grabbed his hand.
“We’re doing this, right?”
“Oh yeah.”
Harry smirked, that smug look that always got Ron worked up.
So Ron got royally fucked.
*
He woke up the next day and knew immediately he couldn’t blame it on the alcohol, really because there was no way either of them would believe Ron got drunk off of 6 shots, and he didn’t really want to.
Didn’t mean he didn’t panic.
He held Harry in his arms, his skin covered in love bites and a deep sated feeling flowing through his body.
He swallowed before carefully pulling away. He grabbed a pair of boxers off the floor that looked liked his and started to quietly tiptoe out of the room.
“Ron?”
Ron froze before he sighed. He brushed his ginger hair out of his head as he sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed.
He smiled. “Mornin’. How ya feeling? Bad hangover?”
Harry narrowed his eyes, the small smile falling off his face making Ron’s heart clench. “Yeah? A little I guess. Why were you leaving?”
Ron swallowed before looking away. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me when you got up,” he admitted.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You were pretty drunk, Hare. I shouldn’t have allowed us to sleep together.”
Harry blinked before scooting forward on the bed until his knees pressed to Ron’s thigh. He gently pushed his forehead against Ron’s.
“Ron, I wasn’t lying or making a drunken decision. I wanted to have sex with you. I do love you.” He pulled away and Ron automatically missed him. Harry grabbed Ron’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “Is this okay?”
Ron smiled and brushed Harry’s hair out of his eyes. “This is perfect. You’re sure?”
“More than anything else.”
“Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Yes.”
Ron leaned forward and kissed him and god did he love him. He could never get enough of Harry Potter. He was so fucked.