my_thestral ◾ ◾ Fic: Art of denial (Part 15/2)

Author's note: A little fraction left from the previous chapter
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Word count: 1277 (this part)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Check the one from 5 minutes ago, nothing changed

They were kissing before the apparition even took place. Their need for contact, the simmering desire to devour, to join, to feel each other was so intense it melted them into one person, into one writhing entity, burning through them with unstoppable force, spilling from one into the other as if they had no physical boundaries. There was barely room for a few loose words such as "more, gods, more..." and "ohmyfuckingod, finally.... you almost made me come in front of my parents"...

And then for another eon none of them could utter a single word, because this was no time for words; there was too much to be felt, too many new sensations to experience, so much starved craving to satisfy and all that love to prove.

A million soft lingering kisses were exchanged as if their very souls wanted to devour each other most gently, a small army of shy caressing touches initiated as if it was their first time, wounds were licked into healing and new cracks opened. Ron’s been up and down Draco’s body with his lascivious hungry mouth and smart fingers one too many times until the blond was left begging… begging with loud incoherent profanities, begging with his mouth, begging with his leaking cock, begging, just begging for him to end this, to break this impossibly tense shell of his marble body that felt too tight for the roaring beast he woke up inside and release it into wilderness. And then there were Dragons to feed: the beasts of Lust, Need and Desire finally claimed their hungry toll, consuming them both through and through until nothing was left in the ashes than two aching young men, begging each other for relief, moving like stormy waves in symphony of love and perfect unity, in pursuit of impossible goal to become one.

Ron broke first.

“Open for me, Draco,” he demanded in a rough long pleading moan between two famished brutal kisses, floating somewhere just beneath the edge of ultimate completion and screaming bliss. “Open for me, dammit, let me feel you… need to feel you… let me in…. god, please… just let me in… I’m going crazy here...!”

And Draco had no mind to oppose and had no will to resist, while his whole body just burned to comply, to serve his needs, to give him what he wanted so badly. Ron was his alpha, his redheaded demon, his blue-eyed god all in one, there was no word beyond his, no world in which they did not exist together.

So he wrapped himself around him like a serpent he was, took him in like an obedient slave, squeezed around him mercilessly, tightly to the sweet melody of his pleas and obscenities, let himself be ridden all the way down to the end of the slow torturous road to release until there was no way to deny themselves anymore, until the wave was about to break and they were just a scream away from tumbling over the edge of ecstasy. And then he cupped his face with both hands to look him straight in the eye and gave him the one thing he could share with him:

“More... here's more, here's all I've got: I love you, Ron.”

Nothing else. He had never acknowledged it before, not like this, not when he was still thinking straight, not without losing his control while begging for his cock. This time it was different. This time he was begging for his heart.

It had cracked them both open.

“God… please… god, yes… Draco… only you… no one else for me… but you… please, beautiful... Draco… don’t… don’t let go…” Ron was yelping now, his hips convulsing on their own until he was comingcomingcoming; shouting and shooting load after load of unstoppable hot come so deep inside him it felt like they’ve finally broke the barrier that kept them as two separate beings and merged into one.

“Come love… come inside me…” Draco panted, afraid to miss it, to lose any precious moment of this absolute unity and bliss, joined with a man who made him feel complete on levels he did not know existed. “Stay… stay inside me… oh, fuck… don’t leave me… ever… ever again… I’m blind… and crippled… and dead without you, I’m only me… when I’m with you… oh, sweet Merlin, Ron… I married you today… you… not her… and this is our bed… our wedding bed… our wedding, our lifetime together. Ours, Ron… ours… oh, baby, split me, fucking split me in two and close around me… heal me... you and me… together… like this… every way you’ll have me, love… You own me, Ron… you so own me now… Oh, Christ, please… I’m obsessed… possessed by you… always was… and now I’m yours… all yours, yoursyoursyours for the taking… so take me… take me, my beautiful redheaded god.. don’t make me wait, oh, please don’t… don’t leave me… nearly there… with you… I just need… need… you… Ron!!!”

He broke against the background of violent surges of the brutal cock speared somewhere through his very core and the sweet whispered endearments like “need you, Draco, need you, baby... so beautiful, god... love you so…”

He lay in his embrace, under the weight of the wonderful warm body collapsed on top of him, still heaving heavily, still buried inside him, still whispering his name and his surrender. He knew it cannot last, he knew they only had a few short moments stolen from the world outside together, but he had never felt more intensely what it meant to belong to this man. He felt as if their bodies were to pull apart, there would only be half of him left, half of his courage, half of his warmth, half of his heartbeat. As if he only had half a life without Ron wrapped around him and at his side.

And when the redhead looked at him, through the red bangs plastered to his awed freckled face and smiling blue eyes, he didn’t have to say much, he just spoke out both their minds:

“Bloody hell, Draco... How am I ever going to survive this?”

Thursday suddenly felt like a million years away and Draco missed him already. He knew he had a honeymoon planned ahead of him, but he knew he’d be back on Thursday, if only for a few hours, just to quench his thirst for him. Much like Ron once was, a million worlds ago, when they were not yet bonded and born into this world of violent need for belonging bursting with colour. He simply... couldn’t picture not coming. Not happening. He couldn’t imagine missing a single chance at being with him – it would be unthinkable as if a thirsty passenger lost in the desert was to walk blindly by the only spring of fresh cool water for miles. It was... not possible not to come. Never an option.

So he hugged him fiercely and kissed him passionately and told him what he knew to be irrefutable truth:

“I will always come back to you. No matter what. This... our Thursdays... it will no longer be like escape from the world. It will be like coming home.”

And nothing could describe more accurately how Ron felt lying so deeply submerged into everything Draco: this man was his home, this was where he belonged.

So the message brought in by a strong grey owl in the middle of the night some weeks later, really shouldn't have come as a surprise:

"I have a daughter. Come to me. I want you to hold her."

And Draco went. No questions asked.

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my_thestral

◾ Fic: Art of denial (Part 15/2)

Fic: Art of denial (Part 15/2)

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