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~*~

"Fuck," Harry said, flopping back onto the small bed. "I'm fucking exhausted."

Ron sighed and leaned back against the closed door. Harry was stretched out on the dingy bedspread, looking far too thin and raggedy. It was Ron's job to take care of him, and he'd been doing it badly of late. Hermione would have his balls for it, if she found out.

Harry sat up and scratched at his chest. "I'm going to take a shower."

"I thought you were exhausted."

"I am," Harry replied with a half grin. "But I'm disgusting."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm used to the stench by now, so don't feel like you need to bathe on my account."

Harry pulled off his dirty t-shirt and flung it at Ron. "Yeah, that's how I'll kill Voldemort -- with body odor."

Ron flinched at the name, but not as badly as usual. He was getting better at it. Harry stripped out of his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, and Ron sat on the bed.

There was a television, something he'd been fascinated by for the first few weeks they'd stayed in these dingy hotels. He didn't even bother searching for the remote control, though. He didn't really like the programmes, as they were full of Muggle references he didn't understand. It made him uncomfortable.

The sound of the shower was pleasant, and better than television anyway. It sounded peaceful and relaxing, and Merlin knew they both needed to relax. Harry in particular -- he'd not forgiven himself for what had happened to Dobby, and no amount of assurance from Ron that it had been worth it helped. They'd found the horcrux, and it had been destroyed. Dobby knew what he was getting himself into, and Ron knew he'd sacrificed himself for Harry.

But Harry hadn't been the same since that day two months ago. He hardly paused to eat or rest. It was only at Ron's insistence that they'd stopped to spend the night at this seedy hotel. The clerk has given them an odd look when they asked for one room, but Ron didn't care. They couldn't afford two, and besides, he couldn't watch over Harry from a different room.

The shower stopped, and Ron stripped his own clothes off, eager for one himself. Harry emerged a few moments later with a towel wrapped around him, and Ron pushed past him into the bathroom.

"Good idea," Harry called after him. "Now I can stand to sleep with you."

Ron smiled. It was as close as Harry had come to a joke in a long time.

The shower felt amazing. Hot water pounded into his back and sluiced over his skin, and he thought he could stand there under the spray forever. The soap had a clean scent, and he used it to wash his hair as well, pulling out tangles with his fingers as best he could. He'd had only sponge baths for the last week. They'd had to spend extra to get the room with the en-suite bath, but it was worth it. Even if they had to skip dinner tonight to pay for it.

He stood under the spray until the water began to grow cold. He dried himself off briskly, then stared at his reflection as best he could in the foggy mirror. He swiped one hand across its surface, but all that looked back at him was a blurry image of wild wet hair and red stubble. He needed a shave. He needed a haircut.

He needed a break.

He sighed and wrapped the towel around his waist, then headed out into the room. Harry had turned the telly on and was staring at the screen, an odd look on his face. Ron started to ask what was wrong, and then froze.

Harry was sitting crosslegged on the bed, fingers wrapped around his half-hard prick, and was stroking himself. Ron felt himself flush. Had Harry not heard him come out of the bathroom?

He cleared his throat and took a step backwards, but Harry didn't seem to hear him. Ron coughed, but there was still no response.

"Harry?" he asked, peeking around the corner to see if Harry was even listening. "Do you need a minute there?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, then leaned back against the headboard. "I can't even wank anymore. What's wrong with me?"

Ron hesitated a moment and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "You've had quite a lot to deal with lately. I'm sure it's not a… permanent thing."

Harry snorted. "It's not that. I can get hard, I just… can't come."

"Really?" Ron asked. He had no idea why that would be happening. He'd certainly never had that problem himself. "That must be frustrating."

"It's horrible," Harry said. His voice sounded tired, and it made Ron's chest ache a bit. "I feel like I'm… constipated, but there, you know?"

"Maybe you need to get laid," Ron said, nudging Harry's thigh. "How long has it been?"

Harry opened his eyes long enough to glare at Ron. "I'm not going to answer that question."

"Right," Ron said, clenching his jaw. That meant it had been Ginny, and he really didn't want to talk about that.

Harry closed his eyes again and groaned. "Just a blow job. That's all I want, really."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I know what you mean." It had been more than a month since he'd seen Hermione, and wanking wasn't the same as the real thing.

"But that's not going to happen, so I'd settle for being able to wank." Harry's voice sounded so deeply exhausted, almost ragged. Ron bit his lip, thinking. He might be able to find someone who would do, but he didn't want to leave Harry alone. They were better off if they stuck together -- that was what Lupin had said.

Besides, he hardly knew where to begin to look for a prostitute. Hermione would kill him even for thinking about it.

His eyes landed on Harry's dick again, and an idea struck him.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry didn't open his eyes.

Ron swallowed. He ought to be disturbed by what he was thinking, but for some reason, he wasn't. It seemed like a very natural thing to do. He helped Harry. He took care of Harry. He could do this for Harry too. It wasn't like he didn't know what to do. Hermione was pretty good at it, after all. He could just do what she did.

He let the towel drop to the floor and shifted so that he could lean over Harry's lap. Without saying anything, he wrapped his fingers around Harry's prick.

Harry's eyes flew open, but he didn't move. He didn't push Ron away. He simply stared at him, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Don't say anything, all right?" Ron whispered. "Just let me do this for you."

Harry didn't respond, didn't even nod, and Ron decided that was all the agreement he was going to get. He leaned forward and opened his mouth, and guided the head of Harry's dick between his lips.

There was a groan above him, and the cock in his mouth grew so quickly Ron had to shift his position. It felt weird, but it wasn't gross. Harry smelled clean, like the soap in the bathroom, and he tasted like nothing more than skin. His cock filled Ron's mouth a bit more than he'd expected, but that was fine. He opened his mouth a little wider and wriggled his tongue the way Hermione always did.

"Oh god," Harry whispered. Ron had hoped he would stay quiet, but that was a good sound. It probably meant Harry wasn't about to kick the shit out of him, at least.

Ron wriggled his tongue again, and sucked a little, and then moved. He tried to keep his teeth from scraping against the soft skin, and he tried to keep his mouth open wide. He pushed down, as far as he could go before feeling like he might gag, and then came back up again, until just the head was in his mouth.

He tasted something a little bitter and salty, and felt the tip with his tongue. It was a bit slimy, but it wasn't bad. He swirled his tongue around the head to spread it around a bit, and then he felt a hand on the back of his head.

"That's so fucking good," Harry moaned, stroking Ron's wet hair.

Ron would've smiled if he could. Instead, he pushed down again, trying to take in more of Harry's cock. Harry pushed down on the back of his head, which was both exciting and frightening. Ron tried to ignore it, but he gagged a bit, and decided deep throating was probably not his forte. He came up and wrapped his fingers around the base of the shaft and stroked slowly.

He focused on the head after that -- it was easier to do and less intimidating, somehow. He licked and sucked and nibbled on the foreskin, and tried to remember what he liked Hermione to do to him. There was enough saliva on the shaft now that Ron's hand slid easily, and he twisted on the upstroke, like he did when he wanked. He coordinated that with sucking and pressing the flat of his tongue against the underside of Harry's cock, and finally found a rhythm he could maintain.

Harry's breathing had increased, and he was making whimpering sounds with every exhalation, as if he couldn't help himself. The hand in Ron's hair gripped loosely now, as if he were making some sort of vain attempt to hang on for dear life. Ron wanted to look up, to see his face, but he didn't dare stop -- not now.

He'd listened to Harry wank in the next bed for years, and he knew exactly what he sounded like when he was close. He was close now, and Ron was flushed with excitement. Harry was going to come, and it was because of him. This was something Harry needed, and Ron was the only one who could give it to him. It was always like that, and it would always be like that. Harry needed him.

"Oh god… I'm gonna…" And the hand clenched tightly in Ron's hair and pulled back, pulling him off just as Harry came. Ron felt hot liquid hit his cheek, and he closed his eyes.

"Oh fuck, that was…" Harry stopped, and Ron opened his eyes and looked up. Harry looked mortified. "I… you…" He gestured to his own cheek.

Ron sat up and wiped the semen off with a grin. "You should have just done it in my mouth. Easier to clean up that way."

Harry's eyes widened. "You… That was…have you done that before?"

Ron blushed and looked away. "No. Had it done to me enough that I figured I could do a decent enough job."

"It was amazing," Harry said. "Hey, look at me." Ron looked at him, and was startled by the expression on Harry's face. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I wasn't asking you to."

"I know," Ron said. "I wanted to, though."

"Why?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm your friend," Ron replied. "And you needed to relax. You needed to get laid, and… well, who else was going to do it?" He tried to smile, but it felt awkward. The whole situation felt awkward now that it had sunk in, what he'd done.

Oh god. He'd just sucked off his best mate. He'd sucked his cock, and then chastised him for not coming in his mouth. What was he thinking?

He pushed to his feet, ready to bolt for the door, but Harry caught his hand and pulled. Ron landed across Harry's lap, legs awkwardly splayed.

Harry grinned at him. "Not so fast. I think I owe you one."

"What?" Ron tried to say, though it came out as more of a squeak. He tried to get off of Harry, but he couldn't. His limbs weren't cooperating.

"It's all right," Harry whispered, petting his damp hair. "It's all right, Ron. It was great. Thank you."

Ron nodded, though his head was still spinning. He looked up at Harry.

"And now it's my turn," Harry whispered, just before he kissed him.

~*~

fin