(no subject)

[fics_by_maple]

Title: Apart Together - Part II
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Angst, Slash
Beta by: shocolate 

Title: Apart Together - Part II
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Angst, Slash
Beta by: shocolate 


~^~^~^~^~^

Part I Here

Apart Together Part II

 

 

~^~

 

“Mm…uh.. nguh…” The indecent, sexy, slurping noises from Ron’s bed wake me, and I look over at him.

 

“Mornin,’ ‘arry. Choc-lat-Frug?” Ron gurgled through a melty mouthful, offering me one.

 

“For breakfast?” I ask, licking my lips as he licks his own.

 

“Hm.” He swallows, opening another squirming frog and tossing the wrapper to the side.

 

“But what about the card?” I ask. He used to always look at the card.

 

“What? Oh – um…” he says, retrieving the wrapping and peering inside. “It’s…Agrippa. Meh.” He shrugs casually and tosses it aside again.

 

Oh, Ron.

 

~^~

 

We’ve gone the whole morning without any mention of what happened between us last night. I think I’ve seen him watching me out of the corner of my eye, but if he’s suspicious, he hasn’t said anything.

 

Hermione and I have been telling him about our second year of school.

 

After morning tea, a nurse as tall as Ron and three times as broad, with a mustache like my Uncle Vernon’s, walks in and announces that it’s time for Ron’s bath.

 

He pales, and looks to Hermione and I for help.

 

I wish I could bathe him –just bathe him! But I know he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t understand.

 

But I can’t leave him in the thick hands of this nurse either, so I turn to Hermione.

 

“What?” she asks, and then comprehending lights in her eyes. “Oh, no! I can’t. Harry –Ron.” It’s a feeble protest on her part really.

 

“Please, Hermione, you’re the only one who can. You wouldn’t want that,” I nod at the nurse, “giving you a bath, would you?”

 

Ron is too busy burning scarlett and picking his thumbnail to say anything, but he looks slightly relieved when she consents.

 

Hermione, with her Gryffindor courage fixed, arranges the bowl of warm water, sponge and soap on his bedside table.

 

With her face set bravely, Ron’s heated pink, and mine directed at the floor, she pulls back his bed covers. While she removes his thin hospital robes, Hermione and I continue telling him about our past.

 

Ron focuses his attention on me while he tolerates the bathing.

 

I try not to notice that he is sitting there in nothing but his shorts, his lean legs still locked in a binding spell while they heal.

 

I try not to wince at the black and purple bruises that are there; reminders of what he did to protect me.

 

I tell him about our dorm mates, our classes, the trouble we got into.

 

Re-telling our childhood is made considerably difficult as I watch, but don’t stare, as Hermione sponges soapy water over Ron’s arms, shoulders and chest. Tantalizing streams of water and tiny bubbles trickle over his biceps and run off his elbows.

 

He is weak from his injuries, but he’s still adorably fit.

 

He listens while I tell him about Ginny and Riddle and The Diary.

 

Hermione raises his arms, first one and then the other, over his head, washing in long strokes from his underarms down his sides along his ribs. The soft copper hair under his arms is nearly the same color as the hair that starts a line at his belly button and runs under his waistband.

 

I’m struck with the memory of resting my head on his stomach, and playfully following that trail of fiery hair with my finger. Dragging my fingertips through the wiry curls that nestle next to tender flesh. That was when we could finally lay together, naked and sated without laughing or blushing afterwards. Just feeling whole and gratified.

 

That was when he told he me loved me, the first time in my memory that I had ever heard those words.

 

As my story shifts onward to the Heir of Slytherin and Quidditch; Hermione shifts downward to washing his lower body.

 

She looks determined and calm as she drapes a towel over his lap.  He gives a meek smile in her direction and then closes his eyes in the only way he can hide as she reaches underneath the towel and pulls his shorts off.

 

I respect her for trying to maintain his dignity, and mine. But I have look at the floor again, I can’t watch.

 

“Then what happened, Harry?” he asks in a tight voice, pleading for the distraction. “Keep going.”

 

So I just talk, more than I realize I could about that time in our life.

 

When I finally notice that Hermione has moved on from what lie under the towel on his lap, to his legs, I look up again.

 

I’m rewarded with the pleasant surprise to find that Ron’s eyes are already on me. He smiles just a bit, but it’s the smirk that reveals the tiny dimple near the corner of his mouth that melts me. That dimple I’ve kissed a hundred times. 

 

I return his smile. Our eyes linger.

 

Was that a moment between us?

 

I’m just about finished telling him our story while Hermione struggles to pull a clean pair of shorts on him, and he helps as best as he can.

 

“There we go, all done now,” Hermione announces brightly, pulling the bed sheet over his legs again.

 

I miss the sight of his knobby knees, but am happy to have the bruises covered.

 

Hermione looks quite pleased with herself for having met the challenge. 

 

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron mumbles, wringing the bed sheet in his hands. “Sorry.” I can tell he’s just so embarrassed, he’s beyond blushing any more.

 

“It’s no trouble, Ron,” she says, putting her hand on his cheek, leaning down to his face. “I’d do anything for my two boys, you don’t have to worry about it. But this,” she says, rubbing his scruffy face, teasing, “this will have to go.” 

 

“Huh? Oh, right,” he says, jutting his chin out, scrunching his lips, feeling his own whiskers, “I hadn’t really noticed.”

 

“I’m not certain that I could do a proper shave by hand, but I do know a pretty good hair removal charm that I use on my legs. As long I don’t get your eyebrows, it should be all right,” Hermione suggests.

 

“No, you can’t do that,” I say. They both look at me sharply. “Well, Ron, you’ve got really, sort of, sensitive skin. Shaving charms give you a rash and make you splotchy for days.”

 

And then I can’t kiss your cheeks.

 

“Oh. Odd that I don’t remember…” he muses.

 

You have no idea, mate.

 

“I wouldn’t trust a blade in my own hand, still twitchin’ the way I am,” he says, holding hands out that still shake occasionally.

 

“I’ll do it for you. It’s no big deal.” I volunteer and I don’t allow him a response, because it is a big deal.

 

I find myself standing over him, shaving supplies from my kit in hand.

 

He nods approval for me to begin. He leans back with his eyes closed.

 

The smell of the shaving crème overtakes my senses first. A mulled scent that reminds me of elbowing him for mirror space over the sink while we shaved together. Then appreciating smooth kisses afterwards.

 

I spread the lather over his jaw, and down his neck, in long broad circles. Swirling into the short stubble. Using the tips of my first two fingers carefully around his lips and under his nose.

 

Touching him, not too much. …Not enough.

 

Wiping my hands with the towel draped over my shoulder, I take the razor in hand. After a deep breath and a slow exhale, I begin.

 

Long, slow strokes downward, beginning at his sideburns, going with the grain.

 

Rinse blade.

 

Don’t look at the water that drips onto his chest.

 

Deep breath.

 

Turn his other cheek, long careful scrapes of the blade.  Rinse. More droplets fall, then snake down his chest.

He shivers and his nipples pucker.

 

Deep breath.

 

I angle his jaw up with my free hand. See the tendons in his neck flex –the way it does when I’ve got his cock in my mouth.

 

Breathe.

 

Short blade strokes over his cheek.

 

Rinse.

 

Wipe his smooth skin clean -skin nearly as soft as his cock.

 

Deep breath  -his this time.

 

I will my hands not to shake. Mustn’t nick a freckle, he’s trusting me.

 

I try to avoid looking all freckles, strewn across shoulders, his chest, and his belly. Tormenting me as markers of all the flesh that I’ve kissed and caressed.

 

Rinse blade.

 

Deep breath.

 

I gently push his lower lip to the side with my thumb.

 

Short, careful blade strokes around his mouth.

 

Try not to remember sucking his lips.

 

Or his lips on my cock.

 

Going against the grain.

 

I trail my thumb over the bare skin, slowly, just to make sure.

 

Smells so good.

 

Skin is soft.

 

Lips- full, nipples- tight, cock -hard.

 

His eyes open and they are dark. Is that lust? Uncertainty?

 

“Harry?” he whispers.

 

“Almost,” I croak.

 

Long blade strokes up his neck.

 

My fingers follow the path, over his Adam’s apple, past his jaw, over his chin. Over freckles, faint scars, and his rapidly beating pulse point.

 

Rinse.

 

Deep breath.

 

Nearly done.

 

With the towel on my shoulder, I wipe the remaining flecks of white lather from his now pink skin. My hands are shaking now.

 

I can feel his eyes piercing mine, but I can’t let him see what’s there.

 

He takes the towel from my hand, and tilts his head, waiting to meet my eyes.

 

I can’t.

 

He’ll know.

 

I leave.

 

~^~

 

I don’t shave him again. We don’t mention it.

 

He’s getting better.

 

~^~

 

“What’s all this?” I ask, looking at the pile of gifts on the bedside table.

 

“George and Fred brought me some stuff. Weird, most of it, have a go at this.” He opens small purple tin and a bright purple spider, the size of his fist crawls out and up his arm. I nearly let out a yell.

 

“They gave me a gag spider,” he says, shrugging.

 

Ron looks mildly amused at the creeping thing, bobbling it’s way up his arm. He snorts curiously, shaking his head as he plucks it up by one leg. It dangles while the other seven legs try to wriggle free.

 

“Why do you reckon they’d give me a trick like that?” He looks so innocent. There’s not a flicker of fear of the twitching thing in his hand.

 

“I don’t know. They think they’re pretty funny sometimes.”

 

If he doesn’t remember all his fears, why should I remind him? This is a new Ron after all…

 

~^~

 

“Bill and I have gone over this several times and I really think it can work,” Hermione explains. Her face is determined and her knuckles grip her wand so tightly, she’d almost be sexy if I had the least bit of interest in her.

 

“But, you say it could hurt, this curse-reversing-spell-thing?” Ron asks, looking extremely nervous.

 

“I’m sorry, Ron, it might hurt a bit. The counter-curse will literally lift the traces of the hex out of your brain. Since we don’t know exactly how it has imbedded itself.”

 

He looks at me, incredulous. “Do you think this is a good idea, Harry?”

 

He really does trust me. I hate to hate to decide something that will cause him any pain, but I’m a selfish bastard and I want my Ron back. “We always trust Hermione with this stuff.”

 

He nods, looking serious, preparing himself. “Right, let’s get on with it then.”

 

My stomach is in knots and my head swims while Hermione says the words and swirls her wand.

 

Am I about to get him back? Will he remember me again? Will he hurt too badly?

 

A pale light emanates around his ginger hair when her words are complete. He flinches slightly, jerking his shoulder. Then we see tiny dots of violent green light lifting from his head. The magic being released hurts him and he yells out, gripping his head.

 

I try to rush to him, but Hermione grabs my arm. “No, Harry, we don’t want the curse to transfer to you. Let it finish.”

 

I’d rather take my chances with the curse than see at him curl up in agony, and hear his staccato whimpers. The last speck of green light dissipates.

 

The ordeal leaves him on his side, face sweating and panting to recover.

 

I pull him upright by his shoulders, holding him to me. Hermione is next me, evaluating the results.

 

“Ron, are you all right? Can you remember anything?”

 

“That bloody well hurt, Hermione, I remember that.” He looks at her with a scowl and then softens his expression at her. He shakes his with a disappointed look. It didn’t work.

 

Then he looks at me again, with a distant look in his eye.

 

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” I ask.

 

“I dunno exactly, but I think remember worrying about you, and a dragon?”

 

So, Hermione’s spell didn’t bring him back… but he remembers worrying about me? I hope I don’t look too pleased about that.

 

“Oh, yeah, I was up against a dragon one time.”

 

“No way! Really?”

 

Hermione sighs, and shakes her head. “I’ll leave you two to discuss that one. I’ll try to figure out how to adjust the spell.”

 

~^~

 

I’ve just gone to sign the parchments on letting my own flat. It should have been exciting, but it wasn’t. It was lonely and strange to be out in the world without Ron.

 

When I return to his hospital suite I’m awarded with the finest sight I’ve seen in a week. Ron is on his feet, supported under each arm by Hermione and Ginny.

 

“Harry, look, I’m walking!” His face is absolutely radiant. By the strained faces of the girls, though, I wouldn’t say walking is exactly the appropriate word.

 

“That’s great, Ron!” He takes a few more labored steps in my direction. The girls smile at his enthusiasm but are clearly faltering under the weight of him.

 

“Okay, wait, -hold on, I’ve got to show Harry that I can do it on my own,” he says, with excitement in his voice.

 

Standing a few feet in front of me, he steadies himself as the girls each step away from him cautiously. After a moment of concentration, a huge grin lights up his face. Gorgeous.

 

“Look, I’m doing it!” he says, taking another feeble step, “See, Harry? Are you watching?”

 

I am watching and I see through his excitement and catch the shadow in his twinkling eyes, before he falters and starts to collapse.

 

I lunge forward and catch him in my arms before the sound of the girls’ screeches has left my ears. I’m holding Ron around the ribs, and he’s hanging on to my shoulders.

 

“I’ve got you.” 

 

He’s still smiling at me.

 

“I know,” he says, eyes twinkling just inches from mine. I can feel his breath on my lips.

 

“I’ll help you to your bed.” I’m half hard against him, holding him closer than he’s been in days.

 

“Thanks.” He doesn’t seem to notice my arousal. Or doesn’t care if he does.

 

I choose not to acknowledge the smirks that Ginny and Hermione exchange.

 

~^~

 

“What’s the matter?” I ask him.

 

“Nuthin’,” he lies. I can tell by the pink ears and pouty lips.

 

“Out with it. Spill.”

 

“You won’t be staying here anymore,” he says, avoiding me. “You went and got a new flat.”

 

“Yeah, well you’re getting better now, you don’t need me around every minute.” Even though I do want to be with him every minute. “There’s not much to the place yet. It’s kind of dreary really.”

 

“My Mum keeps talking about me ‘coming home,’ but I don’t know that place.”

 

“You’re well of age, mate, you don’t have to go there.” He doesn’t remember our plan to always live together.

 

“Where else could I go?” he asks the lamp. Then I realize what he wants, adorable prat.

 

“There’s room at my place,” I suggest. He was supposed to sleep in my bed of course, but I won’t mention that. “I could use a flat mate to help with the cleaning.” I’m ribbing him, but he doesn’t laugh.

 

“I haven’t got any money, yet.” His ears positively light up.

 

“No worries about that.”

 

“I don’t want to sponge off you, I’ll get a job.”

 

“I know you will.”

 

We had discussed all this on the night we promised our lives to each other. I asked him to accept everything I had to give him, including my money. He had hesitated, and wrestled with his pride. Then he said that he didn’t have anything to give me, but accepting my offer would be his gift. I knew how hard that was for him.

 

But right now he’s smiling at me, and he wants to come home with me.

 

~^~

 

Ron’s been home with me for one day.

 

Hermione has come to try to perform the counter curse again. Charlie came with her, this time. He follows her just inside the room, his hand resting on the small of her back.

 

He sees me look at his hand and quickly removes it. Charlie and Hermione? Huh.

 

“Hey, Ron,” Charlie nods, from the doorway, as if afraid to come in.

 

“Charlie,” Ron nods, equally awkward. Ron didn’t seem to have noticed what I did.

 

“I’ll, uh, just wait outside then,” Charlie says, giving Hermione an encouraging nod before stepping out and shutting the door.

 

“Hermione,” Ron says. “Is everything alright?”

 

She bites her lip and frowns.

 

“I’ve been working on this really hard.” She’s avoiding my eyes. That’s not good. “Bill and Lupin have looked over it with me, and this is the last thing I can think of. If this doesn’t work…”

 

“Well then, shall we?” That’s easy for Ron to say. If this works, he has everything to gain, but if not, we have him to lose.

 

Hermione nods with an unconvincing smile. Ron takes a seat on the sofa, reclining and settling in; knowing what affect this has had on him in the past.

 

Her fingers are shaking, causing her wand to tremble. I put my arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple , holding her hand with mine to steady it. “You can do it Hermione, just concentrate. Bring him back to us.”

 

With our hands together, she utters the spell with confidence and authority. She a brilliant witch and I concentrate on her words and join my magic with hers.

 

As the glow illuminates around Ron, he goes rigid. More elements of the curse rise from his head in green specks of light. This is the first time he hasn’t experienced pain.

 

As the lights swirl and fade away, he slumps forward, holding his head in his hands.

 

“Ron?”

 

After taking a moment to rub his face, he shakes his head without looking as us.

 

No. Nothing.

 

Hermione leaves with silent tears running down her cheeks.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry” she whispers.

~^~

Continue to Part III

 

~^~

Comments

[shocolate.livejournal.com]

Lips- full, nipples- tight, cock -hard.

I'm thinking of having this printed on a business card, so we can all have one in our wallet, as a shopping list.

With a picture of Harry and Ron...

And then teh hot shaving, and teh adorable walking.

And then - you have got to be kidding me - it didn't work???

[maple-mahogany.livejournal.com]

I would carry a business card like that! Right behind my bank card which is equally as important.

[earth-dragon.livejournal.com]

my GOD, do you know what you have done to me? do you???

"It's... Agrippa. Meh." Oh, Ron. *omg total heartbreak. sobs*

harry shaving ron. harry *SHAVING* ron. O.o *twitches* meep! scus me i hafta go stick my head in the freezer now!

ron letting the gag spider crawl all over him was somehow very sad.

ron still feeling so strongly about harry that he wants to live with him rather than go live at the burrow makes me very happy tho. GAAAAHHH!! the roller coaster you're taking me on here!

[maple-mahogany.livejournal.com]

Whee! It was suppose to be a roller coaster, but I never know....

In my head the Frog card and gag spider meant something, but I never know for sure.

So happy!

[flaminiag.livejournal.com]

*guh* The shaving was the sexiest none-sex scene I'd seen(read) in a while.
Brilliant of Hermione to come up with the spell, and glad she is tere fr him, unlike some other fic with this plot line where everyone is all weird around Ron.
Although I sort of expected it not to work the first time, I hope you are giving a bit of a cliffie for the second time...jumps ahead to part 2...

[maple-mahogany.livejournal.com]

Was it sexy? In my head the shaving was sexy, but I was afraid it might just be stupid. I'm so glad!

[mrsquizzical.livejournal.com]

the shaving was VERY sexy.

and i love the affection between harry and hermione. very touching.

[fitzette.livejournal.com]

“Harry?” he whispers.

“Almost,” I croak.

would give all my chocolate frog cards for this scene from Ron's POV.

[fics-by-maple.livejournal.com]

When I wrote this, the H and R in my head were so unbelievably hot, but I just didn't know if I could write it out properly to convey it.

Oh - art would be great!! *sigh*

... From Ron's POV - that is very cool to think of! and now the idea will occupy far more brain cells than I'd like for it to. :P

[plotbunniofdoom]

Oh, no!

That shaving scene was so hot!

And I love your Ron. :)

[plotbunniofdoom]

Er . . . the oh no was for Ron's memory not coming back, just to clarify! xD

[sara-ines.livejournal.com]

Oh man! I love how Ron trusts Harry even without "knowing" him!

BUT I WANT HIM TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING!