gala_apples (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} gala_apples) wrote,@ 2009-10-04 16:34:00 |
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title: A Good Collection
rating: nc17
wordcount: 1128
summary: Over the years, bruises have turned into a good thing to have.
author's notes: this was written for my OTP cracking challenge in which i write a fic with an OTP (in this case Seamus/Ron), and then write both with other characters.
When Ron was younger, he always hated being bruised. Nine times of ten, a bruise meant he'd been beat on by one of many prat siblings. They each had their own reasons, of course.
Percy was highly sensitive about his books. A bookmark had to be used, both dog earring the page or leaving the book splayed open were criminal offences in Percy's mind. It wasn't Ron's fault that when he answered floo calls the nearest paper to write the message on was usually the margins of a book Percy had left on the table.
Ginny didn't like being said no to. If Ron didn't want to try talking to the gnomes, he got kicked in the leg. If Ron didn't want to dress up in pearls and play tea party, he got kicked. If he didn't want to share his lolly, he got kicked. Most sane people would have just started doing what she wanted, to avoid her sharp feet, but Ron had been a stubborn person from the moment he was born.
Similarly, Fred and George had come out swinging, at least according to mum. Everything they said was emphasised by a slug to the arm, or a slap to the back. It wasn't so bad when it was a short conversation, but to be stuck beside one of them during Sunday breakfast was a nightmare.
The worst though, were the warnings to not follow Charlie and Bill. They seemed to live this fantasy where they were the most interesting people in existence, and assumed Ron was spying on them at all times. At any point they might give him a few good slugs and tell him to stay away. They always called him the prat as they were doing it, the bastards.
Unfortunately, he couldn't tell on any of his siblings. Sure he would get his bruises healed, along with the pleasure of watching mum yell at whomever it was. But ratting out a sibling to mum was only done in the direst of situations, according to the Weasley Code. If the rest saw it as unfit, they'd turn on him the second she wasn't watching and he'd get hit again.
Now that Ron's in his twenties bruises are one of his favourite things. He's literally got a bruise for every day of the week, and he couldn't be happier.
Monday's bruises are yellow and numerous, scattered across his neck. It's the most conventional place for a love bite, and he's in danger of being asked where he got them. Hermione won't make a fuss. Since they broke up they've made an unspoken deal; she doesn't want to know about his love life and he doesn't want to know about hers. Harry though, he'll be curious.
Really, if Ron was smart he would heal them away. He can't be questioned about bruises if there are no bruises, that's just common sense. He can't bring himself to do it though. Even if they can't be open about their relationship, each bruise is tangible proof of love. So instead he wears collared shirts and hopes Harry won't ask. The last thing he wants to do is say 'when Viktor and I were rubbing off on each other he wouldn't stop sucking my neck'. It won't go over very well.
Tuesday's bruise is only a few inches from Monday's. On Tuesday Ron was on his hands and knees in a shady motel down Knockturn Alley. Really, he wouldn't be surprised to be flipping through a porn magazine and find a entire series of photographs set in their room; it had the sleezy vibe required.
When he's with Viktor it's little details that he remembers as much as the orgasm. The lighting spell was poor and flickered annoyingly, the mattress was far too soft and his palms and knees sunk in a good few inches. Viktor had been overly vigorous, it wasn't fucking as much as pounding into him. And when the Bulgarian started to come deep inside Ron, he bit savagely into his shoulder. As much as Ron wanted to give Viktor a good punch for being too rough, the moment he slipped out he manhandled Ron onto his back to give him a blowjob, and how could you be mad after that?
Wednesday's bruises are self inflicted. It had been the first time in a month Viktor had let him fuck him. Steven Stephanson had been interviewing the Keeper and Seeker of the Wasps; Viktor his thoughts on being recently traded and a veteran of the sport, Ron his being newly bought and what changes he hoped to make.
Halfway through brownie dessert Ron was devouring, Viktor had kicked him in the shin. Ron had given him a good kick back, as the youngest male sibling it was an automatic reaction. Viktor kicked him a second time, but before they could get into a battle under the table, he'd commented in purposely poor English that his wine had run right through him. Ron had waited a few minutes before making a similar excuse and dashing to the same stall Viktor was in. Considering the public space they had to be quiet, which was easier said then exercised. And of course he loves being fucked, but there's just something about doing the fucking (maybe the rarity of it) that makes Ron's lust crawl even higher. In the end Ron had to bite his forearm to prevent any noise from escaping.
Leaving the restaurant Viktor actually came home with him. They spent the evening together, and Thursday morning Ron found himself waking up very nicely. More specifically, Viktor had coaxed him awake with his lips stretched around his erection. Ron wasn't sure if it was natural morning wood, or if Viktor had created the entire situation himself. It didn't matter either way, all that mattered was the wet suction and the way Viktor relaxed his throat to take him in fully.
Of course, because it was Viktor, no sexual experience was really sexual without some sort of hickey. Ron wasn't in the least bit surprised when Viktor switched to jerking him, saliva cooling on the head of his cock, so his mouth was free to clamp on his thigh.
Right now Ron's limping. That too will get a few questions from Harry and Hermione, though he's not too worried. He's already got a simple lie in place for when they ask. He certainly won't tell them it's because Viktor had him on his back this morning, legs straight in the air, and decided to bite his heel. It was a stupid move, made in a moment of passion, so Ron's not mad at him. He does think on occasion about making Viktor wear a muzzle when they shag though.
rating: nc17
wordcount: 1128
summary: Over the years, bruises have turned into a good thing to have.
author's notes: this was written for my OTP cracking challenge in which i write a fic with an OTP (in this case Seamus/Ron), and then write both with other characters.
When Ron was younger, he always hated being bruised. Nine times of ten, a bruise meant he'd been beat on by one of many prat siblings. They each had their own reasons, of course.
Percy was highly sensitive about his books. A bookmark had to be used, both dog earring the page or leaving the book splayed open were criminal offences in Percy's mind. It wasn't Ron's fault that when he answered floo calls the nearest paper to write the message on was usually the margins of a book Percy had left on the table.
Ginny didn't like being said no to. If Ron didn't want to try talking to the gnomes, he got kicked in the leg. If Ron didn't want to dress up in pearls and play tea party, he got kicked. If he didn't want to share his lolly, he got kicked. Most sane people would have just started doing what she wanted, to avoid her sharp feet, but Ron had been a stubborn person from the moment he was born.
Similarly, Fred and George had come out swinging, at least according to mum. Everything they said was emphasised by a slug to the arm, or a slap to the back. It wasn't so bad when it was a short conversation, but to be stuck beside one of them during Sunday breakfast was a nightmare.
The worst though, were the warnings to not follow Charlie and Bill. They seemed to live this fantasy where they were the most interesting people in existence, and assumed Ron was spying on them at all times. At any point they might give him a few good slugs and tell him to stay away. They always called him the prat as they were doing it, the bastards.
Unfortunately, he couldn't tell on any of his siblings. Sure he would get his bruises healed, along with the pleasure of watching mum yell at whomever it was. But ratting out a sibling to mum was only done in the direst of situations, according to the Weasley Code. If the rest saw it as unfit, they'd turn on him the second she wasn't watching and he'd get hit again.
Now that Ron's in his twenties bruises are one of his favourite things. He's literally got a bruise for every day of the week, and he couldn't be happier.
Monday's bruises are yellow and numerous, scattered across his neck. It's the most conventional place for a love bite, and he's in danger of being asked where he got them. Hermione won't make a fuss. Since they broke up they've made an unspoken deal; she doesn't want to know about his love life and he doesn't want to know about hers. Harry though, he'll be curious.
Really, if Ron was smart he would heal them away. He can't be questioned about bruises if there are no bruises, that's just common sense. He can't bring himself to do it though. Even if they can't be open about their relationship, each bruise is tangible proof of love. So instead he wears collared shirts and hopes Harry won't ask. The last thing he wants to do is say 'when Viktor and I were rubbing off on each other he wouldn't stop sucking my neck'. It won't go over very well.
Tuesday's bruise is only a few inches from Monday's. On Tuesday Ron was on his hands and knees in a shady motel down Knockturn Alley. Really, he wouldn't be surprised to be flipping through a porn magazine and find a entire series of photographs set in their room; it had the sleezy vibe required.
When he's with Viktor it's little details that he remembers as much as the orgasm. The lighting spell was poor and flickered annoyingly, the mattress was far too soft and his palms and knees sunk in a good few inches. Viktor had been overly vigorous, it wasn't fucking as much as pounding into him. And when the Bulgarian started to come deep inside Ron, he bit savagely into his shoulder. As much as Ron wanted to give Viktor a good punch for being too rough, the moment he slipped out he manhandled Ron onto his back to give him a blowjob, and how could you be mad after that?
Wednesday's bruises are self inflicted. It had been the first time in a month Viktor had let him fuck him. Steven Stephanson had been interviewing the Keeper and Seeker of the Wasps; Viktor his thoughts on being recently traded and a veteran of the sport, Ron his being newly bought and what changes he hoped to make.
Halfway through brownie dessert Ron was devouring, Viktor had kicked him in the shin. Ron had given him a good kick back, as the youngest male sibling it was an automatic reaction. Viktor kicked him a second time, but before they could get into a battle under the table, he'd commented in purposely poor English that his wine had run right through him. Ron had waited a few minutes before making a similar excuse and dashing to the same stall Viktor was in. Considering the public space they had to be quiet, which was easier said then exercised. And of course he loves being fucked, but there's just something about doing the fucking (maybe the rarity of it) that makes Ron's lust crawl even higher. In the end Ron had to bite his forearm to prevent any noise from escaping.
Leaving the restaurant Viktor actually came home with him. They spent the evening together, and Thursday morning Ron found himself waking up very nicely. More specifically, Viktor had coaxed him awake with his lips stretched around his erection. Ron wasn't sure if it was natural morning wood, or if Viktor had created the entire situation himself. It didn't matter either way, all that mattered was the wet suction and the way Viktor relaxed his throat to take him in fully.
Of course, because it was Viktor, no sexual experience was really sexual without some sort of hickey. Ron wasn't in the least bit surprised when Viktor switched to jerking him, saliva cooling on the head of his cock, so his mouth was free to clamp on his thigh.
Right now Ron's limping. That too will get a few questions from Harry and Hermione, though he's not too worried. He's already got a simple lie in place for when they ask. He certainly won't tell them it's because Viktor had him on his back this morning, legs straight in the air, and decided to bite his heel. It was a stupid move, made in a moment of passion, so Ron's not mad at him. He does think on occasion about making Viktor wear a muzzle when they shag though.