Date: Tue, 3 Mar 2009 15:12:51 -0800 (PST)
From: Agent Orange <agent.orange_stories@yahoo.com>
Subject: After Effect - A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

This story is fan fiction.  I do not own any of the characters mentioned, they belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers Entertainment, and any other respective owner.  I make no money from the writing of this story.


After Effect


The long red hair lay disheveled in front of his eyes.  It wasn't like it
mattered right now though, he was sleeping.  His arms outstretched over his
head.  The sinewy muscle flexing every once and a while when his dream
permitted.  The soft hairs that made his beautiful eyelashes fluttered as
his brain took him further into the recesses of his mind.  Only in sleep
could he be this content.  Not that he wasn't content with his life, but
there were just some things that you needed sleep to escape them.  As he
turned, the scarlet silk sheet fell down his torso, revealing a most
succulent nipple.  The soft patch of hair in the middle of his chest was
just as red as the top of his head.  The tender lips, spotted with a little
spittle from sleep, opened as a low moan escaped them.

Harry could stand it no more.  He had to touch him.  He loved watching Ron
sleep, but he could only handle so much of it.  This was one of those
nights.  Ron had teased him all week long, and now he expected Harry to let
him sleep?  Harry had other ideas in mind.  He kept day dreaming during
quidditch practice tonight because of what Ron had told him earlier.  This
can't keep happening.  He has a shot at winning the Quidditch World Cup
this year.  It's not his fault that he can't keep his hormones in check,
and it's certainly not his fault that he was signed to the Chuddly Cannons
right after leaving Hogwarts.  From what he had heard though, there was a
brisk battle over who was going to sign the one and only Harry Potter to
their team.  Of course, all of this was pending on whether or not Harry was
going to go professional.  Once word got out, there was a mad dash to the
Weasley-Potter front door.  It was fairly common knowledge that Harry and
Ron were living together, and sharing the same bed, but no one really cared
anymore.  He still defeated the Dark Lord with minimal sacrifices.  Neville
was in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies still, but was expected to
be released within the year.  Dean Thomas didn't really get hurt too much
because he hid behind things all night long while shooting odd coloured
sparks from the tip of his wand.  Seamus Finnigan watched over Neville as
though it was his fault that he was hit by the debilitating charm.  Ginny
Weasley still lived with her parents, broken hearted at the prospect of
loosing Harry to her brother.  She wasn't envious, she wasn't even mad.
She just needed some time to recollect herself.

The mourning of her best friend was still on the forefront of her mind.
Hermione Granger always gave her the advice that she needed, even when she
didn't want it, and she was always there for the youngest Weasley.  Ginny
was crushed when she got word of her friend's death, but she did the one
thing that she needed to and that was to tell Harry and Ron.

They were in their house recuperating from the Great War, and she knew they
didn't keep up on the news and the final death tolls.  But she knew this
was something that neither of them would want to miss out on.

Ginny remembered back to the funeral for the late Hermione Granger.  She
almost let out a chuckle at the thought that Hermione had almost become
Mrs. Hermione Malfoy.  Although the thought sickened her, she only wanted
to see her friend happy.  She remembered the mass amounts of flowers that
people had sent to the funeral home, and to the Granger family.  She felt
so bad for their loss; but knew deep down that she wouldn't know the true
emptiness of loosing a child until the day it happened.  And Merlin forbid
that ever happening, but she couldn't be sure.  No one could ever be sure.
Still she remembered the service that was held, and the special headstone
that was presented by the Order.  The whole event was quite amazing in
retrospect, Ginny scolded herself for thinking of the whole thing as an
event, but that's what it was.  It was a celebration of the life that she
had led for the eighteen years she had been alive.  She thought back to the
ashen sarcophagus and tears swelled the bottom of her eyes.  Her shoulders
bobbed as tears slid down her cheek.  Without it ever touching her lips,
she could taste its saltiness.  Ginny let herself fall hard on the bed.
The emotion swelled over her, and gave herself to it.

***

Harry decided that he was going to get Ron back right this very instant for
what he had told him earlier.  He lowered his mouth over the exposed teat
and let his hot breath wash over it.  Harry thought he saw Ron shiver, but
he wasn't sure.  His tongue flicked out and cast a glaze of spittle over
the pale nipple and areola.  There was no reaction.  Still letting his
breath wash over the top of Ron's body, Harry slipped his hand under the
covers and grazed the firm thigh.  The rough hairs on his legs were
smoother at this height than at his calves.  The skin was smooth with just
light fuzz over it.  Harry thought he could feel Ron's heartbeat under his
skin, and when his mouth covered the nipple again, he was sure.  The soft
pulsing began to pick up speed as a slight lift in the comforter appeared.
The body beneath the silken sheet began to rise and fall more rapidly.  The
sounds of breathing could now be heard echoing off the walls.  Harry could
tell that his hands and mouth were still able to do the wonderful
manipulation they were always able to do before.  With this, he was
pleased.  The quiet, small smile crept to his lips as he allowed himself
the indulgence.  It wasn't very often anymore that he was the one to
initiate the intimate acts of pleasure.  Harry felt the heat rise within
him as he now toyed with Ron's chest.

Even though they had been together for several years now, Harry couldn't
seem to get enough of Ron's body.  There was no unexplored territory in
front of him, but at this moment it all seemed foreign.  With rough hewn
hands, he traced a line up Ron's thigh, past his pelvis, and let it rest on
his abdomen.  He could feel the heat rising off of the body that lay in
front of him, as though small fires were erupting wherever the raven haired
man touched.  Harry looked up to see that Ron had awakened, and a smile
once again came to his lips.

Ron's skin seemed to be extra sensitive at the moment, feeling the
slightest touch almost burn his skin.  The calloused fingers working a
magic of their own.  In all the years they had been intimate, there had
never been a pleasure like this.  It took all his will power to lay still.
His penis, throbbing, kept his mind in the clear, not allowing him to fully
enjoy the pleasures that the rest of his body was experiencing.  Tilting
his head back, a moan started to escape his lips, but his mouth was quickly
covered by Harry's.  Their tongues swirled and danced inside their mouths.
Tantalizing and teasing they roamed in their playground.  Without thought,
Ron bought his hips up and met empty air.

Harry still used his hands to roam over the lithe body beside him.  Never
had their relationship been brought to this level of need.  He knew if he
allowed it, it would be over just as quickly as it started.  No, he
couldn't allow that to happen.  He needed to apply some control over what
he was doing.  He needed confinement within himself.  He willed his hands
to slow, to feel.  Running them slowly up and down his partner's abdomen,
his memory ran amuck with thoughts of their previous interactions.
Tonight, Harry let something come out of him that he had never been aware
of before.  This feeling, so foreign to him, yet he knew he had it all
along, only placing it in other things.  Things that it shouldn't have been
placed in.  It should have been here all along, in his bedroom with his
beloved.  Desire washed over him as his need began to crest.  He could
stand it no more.  Sliding down, he positioned himself between Ron's legs.

Ron could stand no more.  He had been pushed through several euphoric
barriers that he didn't know existed.  Having been nearly brought to his
climax several times, he knew it was only a matter of moments before he
could have what he truly wanted.  He felt something warm playing at his
entrance.  A loud groan seeped from his mouth as he forced his hips
downward onto the impaling object.  Yet still he was met with empty air.
His breathing became laboured as his need began to crest once again.  Ron
inadvertently tightened his hands into fists while gripping the bed sheets
in them.

The moonlight poured through the window.  Shadows danced gleefully against
the light, but made a point to stay almost completely obscured in the
darkness.  Somewhere off in the distance an owl hooted a welcoming to its
owner.  The oak tree standing outside their window could not help but be
manipulated by the strong breeze coming in from the west shore.  Down in
the kitchen small sounds made their way up to the bedroom as the dishes and
pots put themselves away after air drying.

Harry grunted and thrust himself inside of his red-headed bedmate.  He
instantly felt the warmth surround him.  Merlin knows why they waited as
long as they had, but it didn't matter anymore.  With his first forceful
thrust inside, he stabbed Ron's prostate and brought him to climax,
watching as the semen shot over his abdomen, and even a couple of the shots
went so far as to land on his throat.  Harry leaned down and licked them
off gently, leaving the ones that fell lower for later.  He was thrusting
with a raw passion.  His need for pleasure had taken over.  Now was not a
time for sweet tenderheartedness.  That didn't exist between the two at
that moment.  Pure unadulterated lust was what drove them.  Pushing in an
out, letting himself fall on top of Ron, yet not ceasing his movements.
But still, just as quick as it began, it was all over.  Harry felt himself
speed toward his climax but had no control over it to pull himself back.
He spilt his seed inside the one person who wanted it the most.  He had
given himself entirely to the man that lay beneath him.  In an odd way,
Harry began to feel a bit insecure over what had just happened.  Just as he
was about to get up, Ron rolled Harry off of him and scooted over so they
were lying side by side.

Ron sighed as he draped an arm over Harry, and wiggled it behind his head
and neck; he turned on his side to face him.  "I Love you, Harry."

This was the time that Harry had feared.  He knew he loved Ron, but he
could never remember saying it without his scar hurting.  He turned and
looked into the icy blue eyes, and despite the stab of pain he knew he was
going to get, he said "I Love you, Ron."  To Harry's surprise, no pain shot
through his scar.  There was no pain anywhere.  Just a fleeting feeling of
pleasure, of lust.  But none of that mattered, what mattered was that he
loved Ron with everything he had, and by the look on Ron's face, Harry was
pretty sure that he knew it.  Swinging his own arm over Ron's chest, and
turning on to his side to face him, he let a slow kiss linger on those
tender lips.  This was the moment to be cherished.  Not the act they had
just committed, but this, the after effect.  The love that hung in the air,
and dripped off of everything solid in the room.  The love that would
continue to grow within both of them until it could never grow more.  This
after effect, Harry decided, was what made life worth living.  His after
effect with Ron made everything just how it should be.

-Fin