H/R fic: Spanish Summer
Title: Spanish Summer
Author: bemygoodday
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry and Ron take a vacation in Spain.
Notes: beta'd by kerryblaze all mistakes belong to me, while none of the characters do. This was written for namaresca. It isn't exactly what she wanted, as far as the order of events go... but it's pretty close.

The fall of Voldemort during seventh year had started Harry thinking and making all sorts of plans for himself. He had decided that his life had taken enough wild turns without him having any say in it. His parent's death, the Dursley's, Hogwarts, all that 'Boy Who Lived' rubbish - while not every turn in his life was unwelcome, by his count, most were.

Harry was in control now. His first act of business as 'The Boy Who Is Now Free To Do Whatever The Bloody Hell He Wants' (as Ron had shoutingly referred to him as when they had graduated Hogwarts) was to take a vacation with his friends.

He was hoping that the second act of business would be to come out to Ron and Hermione while on the trip. There were too many reasons not to tell them while they were still at Hogwarts and Voldemort was still at large. Harry had known as soon as he had kissed Cho Chang. He was really disappointed, all that obsessing, thinking about how pretty her hair was, how nice and sweet she was, then he kissed her, and realized all the time that he had wasted. It didn't take three hours beyond that to be sitting with Ron and realize who he should have been spending his time obsessing over.

Harry did obsess over Ron. He was always looking out the corner of his eye at him. He would watch him in the Quidditch showers (but not too much... didn't want anything, embarrassing, popping up), He would watch him when he slept, see him in his dreams, and by the end of 5th year Harry could count Ron's freckles with his eyes closed. Watching Ron all the time meant seeing the blush the red head would develop around Hermione sometimes, and no one failed to see the jealously in Ron at the Yule Ball. It was bitter sweet really because he knew that if Ron and Hermione ever stopped fighting and realized how much they cared for each other, that they would be happy. Even though it would kill Harry to see Ron with someone else, it would soften the blow considerably if it were Hermione. This is the reason why the era of 'Won-Won' left Harry wanting to leave the wizarding world to Voldemort on their own, and offer himself as a snack to Aragog. Once Harry had enough and decided to throw himself at Aragog’s will, he discovered that the acromantula was deceased. Such is the luck, of the Boy Who Lived - and apparently - Must Continue To Do So.

That was when Harry gave up on Ron.

While Harry was busy trying to get his heart to look elsewhere for the dive of his stomach, or the shortness of breath Ron brought, he discovered that only red heads could compare. He began to direct some of his brotherly love for Ginny into another direction. It wasn't long into that relationship however when Harry realized he was fooling himself all over again, he wouldn't be any happier with Ginny then he would with Cho Chang, and it wasn't fair to Ginny. He broke up with Ginny at the end of 6th year, and found that she had taken it rather well. She assumed that he was being noble and stoic and brave. Only Harry knew that he was being a coward by not telling her the truth.

He didn't want to go on lying to Ginny or anyone else for that matter, and that really is what he felt he was doing if he didn't come out to all of them soon. So Harry was going to go on vacation with Ron and Hermione, and, from there on out, his life could be on his terms, without any lies.

____


Hermione had declined the all expenses paid trip to the sultry beaches of Spain (compliments the hefty amounts of gold in Harry's Gringotts vault). She mentioned something about a S.P.E.W. revival she was staging in the Middle East.

OK - so maybe 'The Boy Who Is Now Free To Do Whatever The Bloody Hell He Wants' wasn't completely in control. He already knew he would have a hard time convincing Ron to go on a trip Harry was paying for. He had told Hermione about the trip first, hoping that having her on board would help coerce Ron to let go of his pride. Now that she had turned him down, Harry wasn't sure he would be going on holiday at all. He certainly wasn't going to go alone.

Now Harry had a new plan. He had to be as delicate as possible with this or Ron was bound to say no. He knew Ron would refuse to go on the trip if Harry didn't let him pay for his half. He also knew that Ron couldn't afford to pay for his half. Harry had reserved a beach house with a private beach in Muggle Spain, it was not cheap, to say the least. He was going to offer Ron a barter trade. Ron would have to give Harry a sweet every week for the rest of their lives (with Voldemort gone this didn't seem like such a small amount of time, and likewise, sweets). Harry also knew that Ron didn't tend to remember things like this, and after a few weeks and a few payments, Ron would forget to owe Harry, and Harry would 'forget' to receive it.

"That's mental, Harry! You can't possibly tell me that it's a fair trade!" Ron was completely flabbergasted that Harry would suggest that a measly one sweet a week could equal a month in paradise.

"Ron, how much do you think it would cost for a lifetime supply of candy? A bloody lot, that's how much! By the time our lives are over and you've given me one every week till then it will equal probably... something like... " Harry tried to figure out if they both lived to be 106, how many weeks will have passed, meaning how many candies that would have been. He intended to divide this number by thirty, thereby giving him the number Ron would be giving him per day of their vacation, but Harry couldn't get past his first equation, and he was doubtful he would manage the second. Where is Hermione when you need her... " ...It would be a whole fucking lot of candies! A LOT! It would be like... fifty... eighty... it would be like eighty-five candies A DAY on our vacation! And what the sodding FUCK is so funny?"

Ron gripping his stomach, face red and leaning over tried to speak but could only manage to point in Harry's general direction. Harry hadn't meant to get so heated, and now he was feeling a bit silly about the whole thing. Maybe he should just give up on the vacation.

Harry looked up at the sound of Ron's regained ability to speak, "S'you mate. You never curse like that, lucky my mum didn't hear you, she would hex you into next week," and with a sideways grin he added, "Then we wouldn't be able to go to Spain."

Harry resisted the urge to grab Ron and spin him around in a circle. "We're going to Spain? So you're going to go?"

"I'd rather just agree then have you running about, screaming about candies and all that. I hear there's a special place at St.Mungo's for that."

The next day was spent packing. Harry gathered his small bit of belongings and headed to The Burrow to help Ron with his packing.

“Pack something to wear Ron, something kind of nice, in case we want to go someplace nice.”

“Where would we be going where we might want to dress nice?” Ron asked sounding a bit skeptical.

“I dunno, like a restaurant or something. Just pack it.”

“Alright. Hey, Harry, have you got any spare owl treats? I don’t have any to give Pig, save for the ones the twins gave me, but I don’t really trust that lot. I wanted to give him some before we left.”

“Yeah, sure Ron, in my bag just there” Harry answered pointing toward a sack on the floor.

Ron came from the bag holding a few treats, and a tube of chapstick. “Vanilla frosting flavored chapstick? Why, how very manly of you ‘Arry.” Ron teased with a grin.

“Shut up you prat. Lips get all chapped from flying around on my broom. It was Wood who turned me onto it, first year.”

“I’ll bet he turned you on.”

“Git.”

____


Spain was fantastic. After spending a week in Spain, Harry was finally ready to come out to Ron. He was almost entirely too excited to break the news, because he knew that once it was over he could go on to finish the rest of his vacation, knowing he wasn’t lying to his best mate anymore.

Harry had been ’testing the waters’ all week. He casually mentioned how a few of the blokes on the beach looked fit, to which Ron agreed. Harry figured that if Ron was secure enough in his sexuality to admit those blokes were fit, then he was probably secure enough in his sexuality to accept his best mate, who just happened to be a poof.

Harry planned the whole night out, after they got back from doing their daily routine of visiting tourist sites, eating, playing dead on the beach, eating more, and walking around the nearby town; He was going to bring some take-out back to the beach house and over a calm dinner, explain to Ron that he fancied blokes. Sounded easy enough.

After the table was set and Ron was bound to come in from sitting out on the beach at any moment Harry began to get nervous. He hadn’t had one pessimistic thought up until this point, and what timing it had. What if Ron wasn’t going to be OK with Harry being gay? What if he didn’t talk to him again? What if all this time, Ron was only OK with the things Harry did and said, because he thought Harry was straight. What if, even if Ron didn’t stop being friends with Harry over it, what if Ron wouldn’t let Harry touch him anymore? No more brotherly hugs over a point for the Chudley Cannons, no more comforting squeezes of the hand when nervous, and no more calming hands rubbing his back when the world felt like too much.

Ron strolled back into the beach house and looked about his surroundings. “A bit romantic in’it? What’s the occasion?”

Panic had fully taken over. “Romanic? Occasion? There’s no occasion, no, there’s nothing. Just wanted to have a calm dinner, away from everything.”

Ron looked skeptically at Harry for a moment before shrugging. “So, what’s on the menu?”

The dinner, or more specifically, the wine, helped calm Harry’s nerves and gain back his resolve. He set down his fork and looked up at Ron. As Ron shoveled more food into his mouth, Harry was patient for him to notice that he was awaiting his attention. After about a minute, Harry thought maybe he should say something to get Ron’s attention, Ron never was one to take a hint.

“ahem”

Ron glanced up from his plate at Harry for a moment and said lamely, “Uh, this is a really great meal mate," before tucking back in. Harry looked on at Ron in confusion. Maybe Ron would stop eating if he tried again.

“ahem”

This time, Ron did not even glance up, simply pushed a heaping fork of pasta into his mouth. Harry was growing annoyed.

“Ron!”

Ron looked up, surprised from Harry’s outburst. “What? Have I got something on me?” he said as he began to investigate the front of his clothes.

“No, Ron. Ron- RON! You didn’t get anything on your clothes, I’m trying to talk to you!”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Ron focused all of his attentions on Harry. “Why didn’t you just say so? Shoot.”

Harry really needed all the courage that he could muster right now. He placed his palms on the table and stared at his plate, organizing his words in his head. He probably should have prepared something to say, he hadn’t realized there was no real way to say it, save for bluntly up until now, and Harry’s nerves were steering him away from blunt at the moment.

“Ron, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for ages, and I really thought it would be easier if Hermione were here, but she isn’t, and I just need to lay some things out on the table, even though - “ Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat if he were going to continue. Just thinking about losing his friendship with Ron was making his eyes itch.

Ron must have sensed that Harry needed some type of support because he reached his arms across the table and placed his hands over Harry’s.

“Go on mate,” Ron said, something like fear in his eyes.

Ron’s hands on his were just the confidence boost that he needed. “I wanted this vacation, just so I could talk to you about this. I’ve been noticing things for a while. A long while, years now really. It’s why I mentioned the blokes on the beach, I wanted to check your reaction - “, Harry was cut short as Ron hastily withdrew his hands. Harry’s heart sunk. “Ron, please - just let me finish.”

“D’you think I’m a bloody fucking bender ‘Arry?” Ron shouted with venom. “Is that what you think?”. Ron’s eyes were suddenly pleading as he continued, “We aren’t doing this Harry, leave our friendship where it is, we don’t need to mess it up over something like this. Just leave it alone, we can pretend you never said anything.” Ron got out of his chair and started making for the door.

“Ron, please. I really want to talk to you about this!”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about!” Ron screamed as he slammed the door to the beach house.

Harry made his best attempt to stay up and wait for Ron, he hoped that when the red head made his way back that he would be ready to talk. While Harry waited, he thought about the look on Ron’s face and the words he spoke before he left. Harry’s sleepy mind came to the conclusion that Ron must have known, he must have known about Harry all along and had just been ignoring it for the sake of their friendship. Despite Harry’s efforts, when the sun came peeking through the windows, and the bottle of wine sat empty in his fingers he drifted to sleep, head propped against the dining room chair that he slid off at some point during his wait.

____


Harry awoke with a start after hearing a door close. “Fuck!” he yelled as his hangover caught up with him. His head was now throbbing and the small amount of light coming from the curtained window was far too obtrusive for his tastes. He rolled away from it and realized he was in his bed. He wasn’t entirely sure how he got there, but he was hoping that he would also miraculously receive a cure for his headache.

Just then, Ron walked into the room holding a small glass of what seemed to be water.

“Here, have this. Took me all afternoon to make it, you know I’m bullocks at potions, but it didn’t turn out too dodgy.” Then placing the glass in Harry’s hand, he made for an exit.

“All afternoon? What time is it?”

Stopping just in front of the door, Ron turned to Harry with a small smile on his face. “Nearly 5. You had a good bit from that bottle, I know I only had about a glass and you drank all that was spare.” Then, looking uncomfortable, he added. “Just drink what’s there mate, it’ll make it a far cry better, worked for me," he said before exiting the room.

Harry gulped down the liquid in the glass and immediately upon setting the glass on his nightstand went out cold. He woke up feeling completely refreshed must have been out for ages, then seeing that light was coming in through the curtains again, he figured he slept through to the next day.

He walked out into the living room and spotted Ron sitting in one of the chairs.

“Could of warned me I’d be out for so long.” Harry said as he sat in the accompanying chair.

“Nah, S’only been about ten minutes. You aren’t really supposed to fall asleep though, guess it has something to do with the potion turning clear instead of cloudy... “

The rest of the day was awkward to say the least. Harry was afraid to bring the topic of his sexuality up again, and Ron was pretending like nothing had ever been said. The static in the air seemed so thick to Harry, he wondered if it were possible that Ron wasn’t feeling it too. The redhead was going about business as usual, while Harry was finding it hard just to breathe. His chest ached and the forced laughs he was pulling to Ron’s jokes were making his eyes water. Harry couldn’t live the rest of his life like this, knowing that Ron had such a problem with what he was trying to tell him, knowing that his best mate would rather live their friendship like a lie, than accept him.

That night Harry headed to his chambers with a heart heavier than lead. The constant sick feeling that followed him through the day had not subsided, and he found himself longing for the bottle of wine he had nursed the previous night. He lay awake trying to think of a way to make Ron see that he didn’t have anything to worry about. Sure, Harry had fancied Ron, and it was certain that if Ron were gay, Harry would want him for his own, but Ron was not gay, and Harry knew that.

He wanted Ron to know that he was gay, and acknowledge that he was gay so that he could move on, so that Harry could finally find someone and get over this thing he had sitting inside him for Ron all these years. A plan finally hit Harry, he knew Ron might take it kicking and screaming, but it was all he had. As the level of nausea dissipated slightly, and the craving for fermented calm left him, he drifted off to sleep.

____


When Harry woke up he was in a much better mood then when he had fallen asleep. He was up early, just like he planned, and just like he expected, Ron was still in bed. He slipped out of the beach house and headed for the main strip of town. Harry spent all morning combing the streets, talking to the locals and checking out the spots. He finally found what he was looking for and headed back to the beach house to make some lunch and hopefully make enough noise to wake Ron up.

Surprisingly, Ron was already awake when Harry returned, sitting at the table and sipping on some pumpkin juice.

“Where were you at mate?” Ron asked, sounding a bit hurt.

“Just went for a walk is all, got plenty of sleep yesterday so I woke up early today. I didn’t want to wake you.” Harry said, trying not to sound suspicious.

“Real early. I was awake, heard you leave out. Must’ve been one hell of a walk mate. You’ve been gone over 5 hours.” Ron had a sharp edge to his voice that Harry couldn’t recall hearing since just before their fight 4th year.

Harry knew he needed a way out of this. If he insisted he was up to nothing, then Ron would assume he was up to the worst. The last thing Harry wanted was to get in another row with Ron. He needed to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound too dodgy.

“Well, I wasn’t really walking the whole time.” The eyebrow Ron raised to him told him he was making progress. “I was sort of working on finding a place we could go tonight. We’ve got just over a week left here, and we’ve spent nearly every night in the beach house.” Harry wasn’t going to point out that the only night spent away from the beach house was Ron’s on the night they fought. Instead, he continued to lay his plot. “Found a good spot if you want to come. I’ll understand if you don’t, just thought it might be nice is all.”

Harry waited patiently for Ron to respond. After some thoughtful deliberation, Ron simply nodded, then excused himself to the loo.

That night Harry made sure to dress in his most fetching outfit. Hermione had helped him pick it out for Bill and Fluer’s wedding reception. A smooth black t-shirt - “It’s not a t-shirt Harry, it’s a top, it’s a nice top. T-shirts, Harry, are made with cotton. This, Harry, is jersey.” - with dark green accents around the collar and sleeves paired with some clean cut black pants which had the slightest flare at the bottom to accommodate his boots. Hermione had even helped him pick out a chain to wear about his neck. - Accessories practically ARE the outfit. - When all was said and done Harry had to admit he was happy with the ensemble.

Harry had to catch his breath when Ron walked out of his room. He wore a dark blue button down shirt, that Harry wasn’t sure was entirely opaque. His jeans were dark and snug in all the right places. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed just so that it appeared, in Harry’s imagination, that he had just had a rather long, hard, and purely satisfying shag.

“Right, “ Ron seemed to say in response to Harry’s silence, “so, we’re off then?”

“Right, yeah. It’s just in town, small bit of a walk is all it takes.”

As soon as they had neared the club, Ron began to get quiet. Harry hoped that Ron wasn’t going to have too big of a problem with this. He considered feigning ignorance as to the nature of the club, just to get Ron inside, but that would only mean once inside, Ron would freak. He decided to just tell Ron up front, and give him the chance to back out before they went in.

They reached the doors and Harry spoke. “Well, this is it Ron, the locals all said it was the best place to come. Said it’s got a good mix... of, um, people.” Ron looked like he was ready to run.
He stared at Harry for a moment before speaking in a very small voice. “Okay, I’ll go in.”

The interior of the club was much more impressive then the outside. Tiers of people were dancing about. Some gay, some straight, and some just in large groups of people. Harry thought it was perfect. Ron couldn’t feel out of place here, no one was out of place here.

Harry and Ron claimed a small table on the outskirts of everyone dancing. They sat down and had a few drinks brought over to them. Harry scanned the club while he sipped from his glass. A tall blonde, very attractive thing was headed over to their table. Harry prepared himself to be hit on. As the blonde drew closer, Harry worked out every detail in his head. Get hit on, go dance with tall blonde wonder. Ron will see that I’m not planning on jumping all over him just because I’m gay. Ron will find some girl to dance with... que serra, serra... or what have you... maybe c’est la vie? Whatever, he’s almost here... look hot!

Said blonde didn’t even so much as glance at Harry. His eyes were fixed on Ron and Harry felt heat rising in his chest. This - he had not planned. He was trying to show Ron that there was no pressure from him by bringing him here... but he didn’t consider that Ron was a might attractive bloke, and that there might be pressure from others.

“Said I’m not interested mate, now bugger off,” came Ron’s heated tongue as Harry snapped from his reverie.

“Oh, C’mon honey... just a little dance. I promise to be a gentleman and keep my hands to myself... maybe.”

Harry thought he was going to be ill. “Excuse me - honey, but he isn’t interested.”

“Well, well. I didn’t realize we had a misses. You were alone the other night, weren’t you?” He said, directing his attention to Ron. Then glancing at Harry, “Why not join us on the floor? The more the merrier darlin’.”

Harry could not believe this guy! Did he not take hints? “I’ll second my mates motion and request you bugger off.”

When the blonde finally sauntered away, Harry could hear Ron mumbling under his breath. “Bloody sodding queer... “, Harry wasn’t going to stick around to hear anymore. With a huff, he glared at Ron and left the table. He headed to the bar to get more to drink. How could he have thought bringing Ron here would be a good idea? Now Ron hated him ten times more, Harry would have done better just to bite the bullet and stick it out with Ginny for the rest of his life.

“Having problems with paprika over there?” The bartender nodded in Ron’s direction.

“Leave it to me to come up with the brilliant plan to bring a homophobe to a gay club,” Harry answered dryly.

“Homophobe? Didn’t look very homophobic the other night, if you catch my meaning. No, not homophobic at all. Having a regular dance off with a Tall, Dark, and I’d Fuck Him.” The bartender replied, a look of reminiscence in his eyes.

“You sure? That same bloke there?” Harry asked, hastily pointing with his drink-hand and spilling some of the liquid onto his fingers.

“Same one. I never forget the red heads, especially ones like that. No, we don’t get many red heads in here.” Looking around Harry noticed what the man was saying. Half of the crowd was made of locals, all with dark hair, and coffee with cream skin. The other half were tourists, most of whom had sun bleached hair, either slightly burned, or slightly tanned skin. But Ron, he stood out. His red hair like a beacon and his skin paler then anyone else‘s.

Then it dawned on Harry. Hadn’t that blonde bloke back there mentioned seeing Ron the other night? So this is where Ron was the night they fought. But why would he come here? Things began to click in Harry’s mind.


The blokes on the beach... he admitted they were fit.

“D’you think I’m a bloody fucking bender ‘Arry? Is that what you think?”

He seemed so adamant about leaving it alone.

“Well, well. I didn’t realize we had a misses. You were alone the other night, weren’t you?”

“Homophobe? Didn’t look very homophobic the other night, if you catch my meaning. No, not homophobic at all. Having a regular dance off with a Tall, Dark, and I’d Fuck Him.”


Harry’s mind was reeling. Ron was gay? Ron was gay? Harry stared at Ron from the bar, his head was in his hands and he looked miserable. He must think I hate him, what a misunderstanding!. Harry watched as another man approached Ron and claimed Harry’s seat. He reached a hand out to Ron and placed it on his forearm. Harry couldn’t tell what they were saying, but he could tell Ron wasn’t telling him to get lost.

“That’s him.” came the bartender's voice. “The bloke from the other night.”

As the bartender's words rang in his head, Ron got up from the table with ‘Tall, Dark, and I’ll Throttle The Bastard’ in tow. They made their way to the dance floor and began to gently sway to the music. Harry saw Ron lay his head on the man’s shoulder. The man in turn, snaking a hand around Ron’s waist.

Harry was filled with jealous rage. All this time Harry had spent obsessing over Ron. He thought it had been wasted because Ron was straight, but he wasn‘t, and that meant that Harry had a chance. But this stranger, this person Harry didn’t even know was trying to take his Ron away from him. Harry was damned if he was going to give him up without a fight.

Harry slammed his glass down on the bar and strode over to the dance floor. With every step Harry’s longing grew, years of waiting, wanting and daydreams came to the front of his mind. He hadn’t waited this long for Ron to run off with some other bloke. He may have sat by, and let his heart slowly break when it was Hermione that he thought Ron wanted, but Mr. Juan Bloody Fucking Spain was going to have a challenge if he had plans to get in Harry’s way.

Faster than Harry had expected he was standing beside the pair on the dance floor, the two of them frozen, staring back at Harry.

“Mind if I cut in?” Harry said as he pushed Don Juan out of the way. Harry looked into Ron’s frightened eyes before rising off his heels to kiss Ron. Ron wasn’t moving and Harry panicked. Maybe he was no match for this other guy. Maybe Ron’s mind was already made up. NO! Harry inwardly berated himself. Not without a fight! Harry brought his hands to rest on Ron’s hips and tried kissing him more forcefully. He felt Ron relax slightly and took it to mean he was winning out. Not wanting to waste any progress Harry dragged one of his hands up Ron’s side to let his fingers tangle in the hair at Ron’s nape. Ron shuddered, then tentatively began returning the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting for air and Harry released a ragged breath. He hadn’t realized it until now, but his chest was on fire and his cheeks were wet with his own tears. He wanted nothing more then to Apparate back to the beach house and snog Ron senseless. However, his need for some privacy had them vacationing in Muggle Spain, and though he could care less if the inhabitants of the club saw him and Ron disappear with a ‘pop’, the ministry had other views.

“Please Ron, lets get out of here.”

Ron didn’t need to answer, he took Harry’s hand in his own and started making his way out of the club. Once they were outside, Ron dropped Harry’s hand, and Harry began to talk.

“I’ve been so stupid Ron! I thought you were the one who couldn’t take a hint! I’m gay! I was trying to tell you the other night, I thought the reason you got so angry was because you were afraid to be mates with a poof! I had no idea you fancied blokes!” Then Harry became a bit solemn, “I had no idea. Merlin, I’ve messed this up haven't I? I should’ve said something sooner. Maybe then, maybe then I would have a chance. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been driven into the arms of Don Juan. I’m such a sodding wanker.”

Ron had been walking along side Harry in silence, looking sort of confused. Finally, he spoke. “I... “ Then more assertive. “Harry.”

Harry waited for Ron to say more, but he was just sort of waving his arms about and furrowing his brow.

“I just kissed you in there.” Harry offered.

Ron stared blankly, “Yeah.”

Harry tried again, “It wasn’t a bad kiss either.”

“No, no... not bad at all.”

“Wouldn’t mind giving it another go.”

“I...”

“...”

“Harry.”

Harry was sure this could go on forever. They were walking on the beach now and the house was just around the bend. Ron could stammer all he wanted, because as soon as they got back to the beach house, Harry wasn’t planning on needing very many words anyhow.

Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and spun him around. He planted a kiss on Harry’s lips while he gently cupped Harry’s jaw. The kiss was everything Harry wanted to tell Ron, being returned. It was warmth and welcome. Harry could taste Ron screaming I Love You over and over into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Ron and answered him. The two didn’t fight for dominance; instead, they passed control of the kiss through trusting lips, each knowing when to take the lead. When the kiss ended, Harry was as speechless as Ron had been moments before. Then, looking down at Harry, Ron whispered, “You’re gay?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. He also couldn’t help it when he tackled Ron to the ground, or when he began undoing the buttons on Ron’s shirt. Harry touched every new inch of burning skin revealed on Ron’s chest. He reveled in the soft noises Ron was making under him as he memorized every curve of his torso. He had been waiting for this for years, he never thought for a moment that his wait would end. Now that he had this chance, he wasn’t going to let it get away from him.

Harry finally managed to finish the work of Ron’s shirt and leaned down for another searing kiss. Ron was getting more frantic now and began to tug at the bottom of Harry’s shirt. Harry broke the kiss only momentarily to oblige Ron and rid himself of the obtrusive fabric, the Spanish heat immediately touching his skin and coating him in a thin layer of summer stick. Ron’s hands found their way to Harry’s waist and pulled him down to grind their groins together.

“ghhn” was all Harry could manage as the stiffness in his pants was met with Ron’s. Ron suddenly flipped Harry onto his back and began a maddening rhythm with his hips. His unrelenting thrusts were leaving Harry unable to do much other then moan and writhe. Harry didn’t want to spend himself dry humping and reached for Ron’s waistband. He pushed and tugged at Ron’s bottoms to no avail. “Please... “ he whined.

Ron stopped his rhythm and earned himself a whimper from Harry. “What about foreplay?”.

Harry, now without the pressure of Ron on his hips found himself able to speak, if only too peevishly. “Ron, what do you call what we’ve been doing for the last seven and a half years? You can’t really expect me to endure much more can you?”

Shaking his head with a hungry grin, Ron dipped back down to lick and nip at Harry’s nipples, coaxing them to stiffness, while he unzipped Harry’s pants. After he had removed Harry’s clothes completely, he began work on what was left of his own.

“No, wait.” Harry reached out and wrapped his fingers around Ron’s wrist. He wanted to enjoy Ron, he wanted to take Ron’s clothes off piece by piece. He wanted Ron to beg him to strip him bare. “Let me.”

Harry motioned Ron to lay back. He leaned down over Ron, their sweating chests touching, and heaving and kissed Ron’s neck, while his hand hovered over his fly. He snatched his hand away from Ron and slid down his body bringing his face even with Ron’s waistband. Ron shuddered a moment and Harry lowered his mouth to Ron’s fly, taking it in his teeth, and pulling down slowly. He curled his fingers into the fabric around Ron’s thighs and menacingly, achingly slow pulled the fabric down, and off Ron’s legs. Harry slid back up Ron’s body and made good work of his teeth on Ron’s neck leaving small red marks.

Harry bit his lip and got ready to take the next step. He was afraid. He had never been with anyone before, hadn’t so much as kissed anyone other then Cho and Ginny. Suddenly the gravity of everything taking place started to come down on him. Closing his eyes and forcing himself to be brave, he cupped his hand over Ron’s boxer covered erection. The sharp, hissing intake of Ron’s breath was nothing but encouraging so Harry began to rub Ron’s cock while he continued to kiss, nip, and lick along his jaw line. Harry could feel Ron’s breath against his neck as the small mewling noises left his lips. The heat between the two surpassed that of the Spanish night long ago and only continued to build with each sound of want. Ron clawed at Harry’s back and shoulders with bruising force.

Panting heavily, he tried at speech. “Heh.. arry mate. You wah... ahhh... “ Ron’s eyes rolled back in his head as Harry applied more pressure to Ron’s groin. “were right... no more... can’t... please... “

“Tell me Ron. What do you want?” Harry could barely hold himself off any longer. He just needed to hear Ron say it. Needed to hear him beg to go further.

“foreplay... can’t. S’enough Harry... please just, just. I waaahhh - wantyou.”

Harry had heard enough; he tore Ron’s boxers off and tossed them to the shoreline. No sooner had he straddled Ron, did the red head have him flipped onto his back again. Ron gently pushed Harry’s legs a bit wider and looked at him in question.

“Go on.”

Ron nodded and reached for his wand. Harry saw the panic in his eyes, and the intent behind Ron’s reach for his pants. Right- Muggle vacation, no magic, no wands. Harry reached for his own pants and pulled a small tube from his pants. He wasn’t sure it would work, but his chapstick was all he had. He handed it to Ron.

Ron opened the tube and started smearing the substance all over his fingers. Once his digits were thoroughly coated and the breeze off the ocean was spinning the scent of vanilla frosting through the air, Ron looked to Harry again.

“You sure about this mate. If you don’t want to do this, we can- “

Harry cut Ron off, he couldn’t take the wait any longer to have Ron inside of him. He didn’t have time for speeches just now. “In, Ron... now!”

Ron nodded franticly and worked his first finger into Harry. Harry shut his eyes tight and tried to adjust to the new sensation. He could feel the small movements of Ron’s finger and wondered for a moment how one finger was supposed to prepare him at all for Ron’s cock.

“Another.”

Ron slipped another finger in at Harry’s request. Harry had to bite his lip to keep his sounds of discomfort inside. Harry felt Ron’s fingers begin to move inside him again. They suddenly hit a spot inside him and Harry sucked in a gasp. Light flashed in front of his eyes and his stomach fluttered madly. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer if Ron kept it up like that.

“Forget the fingers.”

Ron seemed all too happy to oblige. He hastily removed his fingers and began smearing Harry’s vanilla frosting chapstick over his cock. Then he lifted Harry’s legs to rest over his shoulders, and positioned himself at Harry’s entrance. He paused and Harry thought he would go insane. Harry reached his hands around Ron’s neck and kissed him while he tried to push his hips back to take Ron’s cock. Ron got the hint and pushed forward.

It was pain like Harry had never felt and his legs fell off Ron‘s shoulders, to around his middle. He vaguely heard a moan from Ron as he felt his throat seize and his eyes begin to water. He didn’t want Ron to know how badly it hurt and tried to choke down a cry. Harry knew that if he thought he was hurting Harry, Ron would call the whole thing off.

“Harry,” Ron’s voice came to him a bit strangled, “are you ok?”

Harry nodded lamely panting feverishly. “Just a... I just need... a moment.”

Harry could feel the waves of electricity pouring off of Ron’s body and onto him. He knew Ron must be aching to move. As soon as Harry felt like he could take more, he gripped Ron’s shoulders and stared him in the eyes.

“Go on, just... take it easy.”

Ron smoothly pushed his hips forward and finished the task of burying his entire self into Harry. He was panting just as heavily as Harry was, his eyes beginning to roll back into his head. Harry was surprised his grip on Ron’s shoulders wasn’t breaking the skin, but he couldn’t ease up because having Ron’s solid form pressed between his fingertips was the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing helping him endure the pain. Harry could tell that his erection was deflating and he didn’t want Ron to catch onto it. He stole one of his hands away from Ron’s shoulders and began to pump his erection back to life. Ron caught the motion and batted Harry’s hand away, taking Harry’s erection into his fist.

“You don’t like this... I’ll stop.” Ron said as he fisted Harry’s cock.

Harry hooked his ankles behind Ron, holding him in place. “No.” Harry knew it would get better, knew it had to get better.

Tears formed in Ron’s eyes and he leaned over to kiss Harry. He placed a simple kiss on the corner of his mouth. When he did so, his hips jerked and Harry’s back arched. “I’m sorry Harry, “ Ron was sobbing, his hips jerking again. “I’m sorry. Can’t hold still.”

Harry knew this had to get better, and he didn’t think it would with Ron crying into his neck and apologizing. “Move.” Harry ordered. Ron’s hips jerked again and he looked Harry desperately in the eye.

“Move!” Harry said again.

Ron pulled himself slowly out of Harry and slowly back in. Harry began to get numb to the pain and encouraged Ron to go again. Ron continued to stroke Harry’s erection, slowing his ministrations down to match his thrusts. On the third thrust, Ron hit that place within Harry that his fingers had found earlier. Harry’s erection twitched in Ron’s hand. Ron took notice of this and made sure to hit the same spot again.

Warm water washed over their thighs, the Spanish tide had risen, along with the one in their bodies. The world behind Harry’s eyelids became a spectacle of light as Ron increased his pace and erased any memory of pain Harry ever had. He placed kisses all over Harry’s face and neck while whispering inaudible endearments.

“Going to come ‘arry...”

On Ron’s words, Harry curled his fingers into Ron’s hair and kissed him with all the passion he possessed. He thrust his hips down to match him, thrust after erratic thrust of Ron’s finale. He was close too. Harry's name was whispered against his lips as Ron’s orgasm hit him, Harry’s hitting him in tandem. Ron rode out the rest of his orgasm, his seed filling Harry while Harry’s own spread across their stomachs.

Ron collapsed onto Harry, breathing heavily and lethargically slid out from within him. Harry encircled as much of Ron as he could get into his arms not wanting to ever let go. He was his to keep, it was written in the stars, and witnessed by the full Spanish moon that watched them where they lay. He could feel the salty air from the ocean dancing across his sweat-slackened skin, cooling it, and teasing his senses.

It seemed they had been laying there for ages. The early morning sun was peeking at them from the horizon, the tide now reaching their chests and washing all the evidence of the night away. Ron stirred against Harry’s chest and mumbled sleepily.

“Ron, we should head into the beach house, suns rising.”

The two boys sat up and looked about their surroundings. The tide had taken their clothes away long ago taking the footprints from the day before with them. Ron leaned over and kissed Harry chastely on the lips.

He smiled at Harry. “You taste like vanilla. I want waffles.”

Harry let out a small laugh and began to stand, brushing the sand off his skin. Ron stood with him, and taking Harry’s hand, they made their way back to the beach house.

~~~~**~~~~

well, that's it. I hope you liked it ^_^