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"You've got to help me, mate." Ron dropped heavily onto the sofa next to Harry, and heaved one of his most dramatic sighs. "I can't take much more of this."

Neither can the rest of us, Harry thought, but kept his eyes fixed on the scribbled words in the margin of the Prince's old potions text. Ocius: for boring conversations.

"She just won't leave me alone. I had a whole new plan worked out for avoiding her, remember?"

Harry nodded. Perhaps he could cast ocius wordlessly.

"But she must've worked out what I was doing, because now she's around even more. She just pops up when I least expect it. I tell you mate, it's horrible!"

"I can imagine the sheer torture of having to snog someone constantly, yeah." Not an ounce of bitterness in his tone, to his credit.

"Yeah, well, it's not all it's cut out to be. Besides, she kisses like a bloke."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Harry processed what he'd heard. He looked up to see Ron flush.

"Well, I mean… What I'd imagine a bloke would kiss like. Not like, you know, a girl. Or something." Ron looked away.

Harry looked down at his book again. "What makes you think it's so different?"

Ron shifted beside him, apparently uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had headed. "I dunno. I just know I don't really like snogging her, that's all."

"Who do you like snogging then?" Eyes firmly pegged to the page below.

"I… I haven't really snogged anyone else. You know that."

"Then how do you know it's her you don't like? Maybe you don't like snogging at all."

This seemed to give Ron pause. "Merlin… That would suck, wouldn't it? I mean… shit."

Harry set the potions book aside and turned to face him. "Do you want to find out?"

"Find out what?" The expression on Ron's face was so typically blank that Harry almost laughed.

"If it's just snogging, or snogging girls, or just snogging her that you don't like."

"I guess. Yeah. How?"

Harry looked around: the common room was empty, and there was no sound of footsteps on the stairs. They were alone. He took a deep breath.

The quickest approach was probably best. No warning, just nip in there and get to it. Before Ron could work out what was about to happen, Harry grasped Ron by his house tie, pulled him close, and pressed his lips against his best friend's.

Ron jolted in surprise, but he didn't pull away. Harry kissed him again and again, and then Ron's lips parted and his tongue brushed against Harry's, and it felt like the floor dropped out from beneath him.

Whether Ron was naturally a good kisser or if Lavender had taught him well, Harry had no idea, but his intention to teach Ron a lesson suddenly seemed rather foolish. Ron's lips were a bit rough, and he needed a shave, but so did Harry, and it only made it feel more raw. One of Ron's hands slid to the back of Harry's head, pulling him in closer, and it was all Harry could do not to melt against his chest. He felt a rush of sensation in his groin and realized he was hard. The hand on Ron's tie tightened its grip, and his other hand braced against the sofa, trying desperately to keep his erection off of Ron's thigh. He could do things with his tongue that Harry hadn't even imagined, and it was almost overwhelming.

Fuck.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs jolted them both back to reality and they broke apart, sliding to opposite ends of the sofa. Harry snatched the book from the floor and held it over his lap, hoping Ron hadn't noticed.

"Won-Won, here you are!"

Harry glanced over to see Ron's face pale. He was tugging his jumper down over his groin, and the sight of it made Harry's stomach do a little flip.

Lavender tried to leap into his lap, but Ron moved aside and she landed next to him instead. His face looked stricken. She threw her arms around him and giggled. "I've been looking for you everywhere! I missed you soooo much in the last 30 minutes!"

"Yeah, well. Harry and I were just studying, and we have a lot more to do, so I really can't--"

Lavender pouted and laid her cheek on his shoulder. "All right, but you have to promise to take me to the tower tonight. Promise?"

"Yeah," Ron replied meekly.

"Bye, Won-Won!" She pecked him on the cheek and skipped away through the portrait hole.

For a moment they both stared straight ahead, silent. Harry tried desperately to think of something to say.

"Girls," Ron said at last.

"Yeah, I know. What can you do?"

"No, I mean…" Ron paused, and Harry risked a glance at him. His face was flushed. "I don't like snogging girls." He looked up at Harry, blue eyes wide.

"Oh." Harry bit his lip and smiled. "Me too. I think. That was… I'd never done that before either."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Ron's expression changed to something shockingly predatory. He slid across the sofa, grinning. Harry grinned back, and lunged toward him.

The sound of voices coming through the portrait stopped them, though. A crowd of first and second years filed in, chatting excitedly about the lessons they'd just come from. Harry and Ron settled on the ends of the sofa again. Harry picked up his potions book in an attempt to look like he was doing anything but making out with his best friend, and Ron picked up a copy of the Quibbler someone had left on a side table. The chatter around them settled into a buzz as fellow Gryffindors settled in to work on homework and hang out with friends.

After a few minutes Ron stood, and Harry couldn't help but look to see if his trousers were still tented. He looked up to see that Ron had caught him, and he shrugged.

Ron stretched and yawned, looking far more composed than Harry thought he ought. "Want to go find a spot to practice some Quidditch moves tonight?"

"Yeah, after dinner maybe?"

"Some place private." The last was mouthed. Ron's expression was the same as always, but his eyes smoldered.

Harry swallowed. "Right."

It was all he could do not to watch Ron's arse as he walked away. He forced himself to look down at the book again, and turned the page. He squinted to read something the Prince had scribbled between the lines of instructions for making a peppering potion.

Congelo: For making an object harder, firmer, and stronger.

Harry closed the book and grinned.

~ fin ~