After Effect

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