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Mating Colors

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Mating Colors

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Disclaimer – I do not own the characters or the setting, just the situation.


Smoke twisted and dispersed slowly, rising from thin sticks of incense in little pink ceramic trays on each of the low round tables that sprouted like tan-colored hallucinogenic mushrooms from the indeterminately-colored shag carpet floor of the Divination classroom.


Harry yawned and tried not to choke on the thick fumes. The smoke swirling around the room was not poisonous – Harry had used some interesting spells he’d found when researching potions homework to determine this – but they did certainly have some affect on the human mind. As ever in this classroom he felt thick and slow as Trelawney buzzed about the room, chirping the page number she desired them to reread. Harry idly nudged Ron out of his daze and tickled the book open. The sheets seemed to sigh as he paged through them. He squinted against the dimness then reached up to prod the little floating fairy lights above the table with his wand. They glimmered a little brighter, casting a few more specks of light upon the swirl of words.


Today it appeared that the class would bring to light something about their innermost potential. The hum and mumble of the class convinced Harry that he best try the spell and now that Ron was finally paying attention, he traced the words with his finger and whispered them out loud to his companion.


“Harry, you want to try it first or me?” Ron yawned out, finally pulling his grimy wand from his third or fourth-hand satchel.


“Reckon I ought to – let you wake up a bit more.”


Ron agreed with a sigh and a stretch. “That’s fair, mate. Go on then and bring out my inner potential.”


Harry crooked a grin and studied the text a bit more, practicing the wave and then the words and then the wave again.


He was distracted by a footnote at the bottom.


“Ron, it says down here that the spell ought to be done in terms of what your casting partner is to you. The upper version is for strangers or fond acquaintances while this one says it is for closer relationships.”


Ron scratched his elbow blissfully, eyes closed as he replied. “Well, I think I’m a bit more to you than your fond acquaintance, yeah?”


Harry nodded, Ron’s gift of understatement was not to be underestimated. Fond acquaintance, he shook his head and snorted quietly, Ron is my best mate. With this undercurrent in his mind he cast the spell which hung like a thin translucent mist before Ron’s nose until he took his next breath then wafted into him on the inhale.


“Alright, I’ve done you now, Ron. Here’s the spell.” He tapped the page idly again, just in case Ron hadn’t seen where he had gotten the proper version of the spell from.


“Ta for that, mate. Can’t wait to see what my innermost potential is,” He quirked a sarcastic grin at Harry and Harry smiled back before slouching over the table with his chin in hand.


“This one down in the footnote, here?” Ron peered in mock-studiousness at the cramped text.


“Yep. Do me now, Ron, unleash the ravening power of my inner beast.” Harry would have gestured expansively but lethargy that hung over the room like the drape of a well-fed vampire’s wings got the better of him and he just fluttered his fingers in mockery of the spell.


Ron murmured the spell and Harry inhaled the golden mist, which prickled the hair of his nostrils invigoratingly like the scent of mint and cold, then a flash of tingling heat like desert sand and cinnamon as his inhalation drew it into his throat and lungs.


Harry blinked and straightened. He felt more alert and aware than he had in ages. He cracked a joke at Ron, “My inner being is one with wakefulness!” He softly but dramatically proclaimed.


Ron huffed a humorous little laugh, “As is mine, we are one in spirit thanks to the wakefulness!”


Harry nodded slowly in mock solemnity, “We are one.”


They clasped hands and could not suppress their giggles as the bell rang and they sprang for the door, divination book in one and book bag in the other.




Harry woke in the middle of the night, feeling horny and stifled surrounded by the thick, red four-poster curtains. He pulled back the curtains and sighed as the cooler air swirled across his sweaty brow and dove under his pants to tease his sweat-sticky prick. He wiggled out from under the bed clothes and hissed as the cold stone floor reached up to support his damp, hot feet.


He staggered to the bathroom, secreting himself into a stall and dizzily sat, pushing his organ down so he could relieve himself.


Task complete he rewarded his one-eyed serpent with some halfhearted strokes. It perked up hopefully but Harry leaned against the stall wall, nearly overcome by heat and dizziness. He looked down at himself. The cock in his hand oozed pathetically, as it glinted gold in the feeble candlelight.


Confused, he forgot propriety and shuffled out of the stall into the bathroom, pants dragging across the stone tiles ‘round his ankles. A few more candles obligingly sparked to life as he stood in front of the mirror. He’d been painted in his sleep!


Thick bands of green, with a sliver of silver and white at the edges, slid down his sides from his armpits to his hips then drew together suggestively at his happy trail and striped down on either side of his bright orange cock to wrap themselves behind his scarlet bullocks. His orange cock was orange in odd, sharp shapes something like shark fins outlined in the deepest black and his cock head was metallic gold, bright as a snitch. He moaned as he grasped it and began to toy with the straining member. It didn’t feel like paint. In fact he couldn’t feel anything but his own skin.


He heard a gasp from behind him and he whirled, his cock pointing out Ron who drew forwards, blinking and yawning, out of the darkness of his own stall.


Ron was completely naked and multi-colored too, with a large, upside-down icy-blue colored triangle with rounded corners surrounding his belly button and dipping down so its point was lost behind thick orangey fuzz on his ball sack. At the center of the triangle, a perfectly oval patch of iridescently white skin entranced Harry. As Ron helplessly cupped his aching cock, banded sleekly in dark blue, and then stroked it. In the middle of the white patch Harry could see Ron's belly button glittering gold in the candle light as the inside edge was revealed with Ron's every breath.


Harry was shocked to find he had drawn closer to his naked best friend, over-heated erection pointing like a lodestone to that mother of pearl expanse.  


Words Harry had not meant to say stumbled across his lips, “Ron, I want to touch your stomach.”


His attention drawn from Harry back to his own person, Ron looked down to see his stomach, shining white in the dim, tiled room. He scratched curiously at the odd color and gasped. He stared back up at Harry in surprise.


“I think… I think I want you to touch my stomach, mate.” Though the words were confused and slow, Harry didn’t hesitate to approach and reach out, gently to trace the iridescent expanse. It trembled under his touch as Ron gasped and moaned. It felt cool and smooth under his sweating fingers, like a riverstone might if it were soft.


Harry petted the white spot awkwardly as Ron leaned against him, breathing hard. Ron yelped and grabbed his hand as Harry’s forefinger probed the curious gold center.  Ron just held Harry’s wrist so Harry pressed his finger into the chilly feeling. It appealed greatly to him as he felt as though he were burning up.


“It feels so cool Ron, I wish I could bury myself in your bellybutton.” Harry blinked dazedly as his own words reached his ears. Ron tugged his hand closer and suddenly Harry’s finger just smoothly sank in to his fist.


Ron sounded dazed himself, “I think you can, mate. I’m so cold and you feel so warm. I wish you could get inside me. I can feel your heat.”


A daring sickness overcame Harry. “My cock is hotter than my fingers.”


“Mate, really?” Ron was trying to sound sarcastic. It failed and mostly just sounded grumpy and halfhearted.


Harry was feeling desperate, so incredibly hot and he just knew somehow that he ought to put his gold-headed cock into Ron’s golden belly button and they’d both feel fine. “Ron, they match colors, my cock to your belly button. They go together.” Harry tried to convey his point.


Ron was distracted by his realization that most of Harry’s cock was his favorite shade of Chudley Cannon orange.


Ron giggled. “Harry, I like your cock.”


Harry rubbed it against Ron’s white patch. “Could you maybe like it a little closer? It’s nice and hot…” He trailed off enticingly.


Ron sulked since Harry wouldn’t discuss the meanings of all their pretty colors with him. “I suppose so. My belly button feels like another mouth now and I think I want to taste your orange with it. I like bright things.”  


Permission gained, Harry tugged Ron down into a half crouch so he could get his cock to the same level as Ron’s beguiling gold belly button. Something occurred to him.


“Hey Ron, you’ve still got my hand. Can I pull my out finger and put my cock in there?


Ron frowned. He’d already agreed to let Harry have what he wanted so, “No. I want your hand.” Ron reached for the magnificent heat of Harry’s orange cock and guided it into his belly button next to Harry’s finger. For a moment, Harry’s cock head nudged against the wrinkled shallows of his best friend's belly button and the side of his own hand in confusion. Then, like a mouth opening at the back, Ron's new orifice sucked him in, till they were groin to belly. With Harry’s fist and Ron’s hand still between them, of course.


“Mate, you feel so cool and wet! It’s so good!” Harry rejoiced as his cock reached nirvana in Ron’s core.


Ron seemed to approve. “You’re right. Your cock is hotter. ‘S good. I like the way it tastes.”


Ron let his wrist go at last and Harry pulled his finger out and reached around to hug Ron closer, pressing his cock deeper into this plush, needy space that he never had imagined could exist inside his best friend.


Ron started to pull away and Harry panicked. “Ron! What?” He spluttered.


Ron glanced back – he’d already turned away – “I’m cold, the loo is cold, and my bed is warm. So we'll go to my bed and do something more comfortable than making me lean over your cock.”


“Okay,” Harry breathed in relief. He didn’t know quite what he’d do if Ron just walked away from Harry as Harry suffered from his horrible heat. They padded silently past the closed curtains of their roommates and crawled into Ron’s bed, which was unpleasantly warm to poor Harry. Ron pulled the curtains closed, some vague glimmer of understanding helping him to realize he wouldn’t want anyone else to see them in the morning. Ron shoved his bedding aside to clear a space for them and lay down on his side.


He patted the bed beside him. “’M still gold, Harry. Get your orange over here and help me warm up inside.” Harry eagerly threw himself down, making the bed bounce a little as he crawled up a bit higher than Ron, and Ron guided Harry’s orange cock back into his white-ringed golden belly button.  Harry moaned with relief as he sank into the cool channel of his friend and he thrust vaguely against Ron’s soft belly. A flicker of a thought passed through his mind and he lifted a leg up and pulled Ron’s pretty blue banded cock between his sweaty thighs. Ron moaned, pleased as they both thrust against the other happily. Ron’s cold cock rubbing up against Harry's heated balls as it sought Harry’s warmth and Harry’s overheated prick slipping into the coolest, softest, most deliciously wet thing that had previously been beyond his wildest imaginings.


Finally their quiet, furtive movements brought them bliss. Harry expelling his excess heat with his seed and Ron moaned as that heat spread into his frozen core.


“Did you come in me, Harry?” Ron asked sleepily. Harry nodded as he curled even more tightly against Ron. “Your come is nice and hot and tastes like beef chili – ‘tis tasty. I think I like it.”


Harry hummed happily as, for whatever reason; the fact that Ron liked the taste of his semen seemed incredibly flattering.


2,107 words written on 7/17/16.