Keeper
by Jenny
Ron thinks he can smell the aftermath of victory in the near-empty locker
room as he steps out of the hot spray of his post-match shower. Only he
and Harry remain after Gryffindor's season-opening win over Hufflepuff: Keeper
and Seeker, wide-eyed rookie and Quidditch veteran. Ron still can't quite
believe it all.
He also can't believe how hard he is.
Maybe this always happens after Quidditch wins, Ron thinks, glancing
down at himself. Maybe this has nothing to do with Harry being naked
and wet and humming happily in that shower over there, less than, oh, say,
ten feet away.
Not bloody likely.
Ron towels off, willing away his unwanted erection, trying not to think about
Harry. At least not in that way -- the way that's happening this
year with alarming frequency.
The bittersweet ache of this stupid crush of his has only gotten worse since
the Yule Ball last year, and now, with Ron playing Quidditch with Harry for
Gryffindor, they're spending more time together than ever before.
And Ron still hasn't whispered a word of how he feels.
Each day, through hours of boring classes, on the pitch for practice, over
eggs and cold toast in the Great Hall at breakfast, Ron watches and aches
and waits for the right moment -- a moment he suspects will never come.
The impossibility of it all is beginning to drive him crazy.
But, because he can't spill his guts to his best friend, Ron putters
about his daily routine, all the while aching to grab hold of Harry, press
him into a row of lockers or the cold stone of a dungeon hallway wall, and
kiss him senseless.
Is it ever going to happen? Not bloody likely.
Ron slams his locker shut in frustration. Let it go, Weasley, he chides
himself, willing the fantasy away. Let. It. Go.
_____
She is waiting for him when he comes out of the locker room, and at first,
he isn't sure whether he's glad to see her or not.
"That was a nice game you played today, Ron Weasley," Hermione says softly,
"You're quite the Keeper." Ron does a double-take. Is she batting her eyelashes?
Ron isn't sure about that, but he is sure she's making the same face
at him that he's caught Ginny making at Harry when she's trying extra hard
to make him pay attention to her. Hermione calls it Ginny's "come hither"
face. And now Hermione is making it at him.
What the ... ?
Then Hermione leans in close, threading a hand behind Ron's neck and into
his damp hair, and kisses him.
Ron's jaw drops mostly in surprise, but Hermione moves right in, sweeping
her tongue lightly over his lips before dipping into his mouth to taste him.
Ron's head is swimming. They have done this before, briefly, but not like
this, never like this. Hermione presses herself closer, and Ron, still riding
the high that is Quidditch and his craving for Harry, kisses her back, pinning
her to the locker room door with his body. She's warm against him, and her
kisses are needy. The erection he fought with in the locker room springs
back. Ron, mildly embarrassed, thinks maybe he should put some space between
them, but Hermione feels too good against him. Instead of moving away, he
kisses her harder.
"Wait, wait. Not here," Hermione pants when Ron breaks the kiss to breathe.
"Someone might see. Here, quickly, this way." She nudges past him and heads
off toward the Quidditch pitch.
As they duck under the stands together, Hermione pulls Ron close for another
kiss. She backs him up against a wooden pillar, smoothing her hands down his
sides, clutching at his hips, tugging him closer to her. Ron's eyes slide
closed. "So great today," she whispers to him between kisses. "You were."
Pant. "So great." Whimper. "Oh, to watch you fly."
Ron snaps instantly to thoughts of Harry. Harry flying, landing, hefting
his broomstick over his shoulder, messy hair made more disheveled by the
wind, winking at Ron, dropping his broom and pulling Ron close, pressing
Ron against a pillar under the Quidditch stands, clutching at him and kissing
him and pulling open his robes and shirt to leave bite marks along his collarbone.
"Harry," Ron pants. "Yes, Harry, please --"
The biting stops and Ron opens his eyes. Hermione stands in front of him,
brown eyes ablaze with fury.
Before Ron can say anything, she slaps him.
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