Ron/Draco ficlet
Jul. 6th, 2005 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
czeriEach time I try to write Draco/Lucius I come up with something else :sigh: Oh well, here's the result of my latest attempt.
Title: Of Ferrets and Puddings
Author: Czeri
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: So yeah, the story is based on a primitive word play, but come on, it’d be a crime not to use this particular pun!
Feedback: Any is always appreciated.
It’d been an exhausting game. And they’d lost. Only by 40 points, true, but the smug look on Malfoy’s face as he circled the pitch with the snitch held tightly in his raised hand had made Ron’s heart feel as heavy as if the Slytherins had already won the Cup.
Ron could only imagine how much more horrible it had to be for Harry, who’d been forced to watch the match from the stands because the matter of his ban on Quidditch was still in the process of being cleared up by the Ministry. Apparently the fact that Umbridge, who’d given the order, had remained unresponsive and thus unable to call it off, had turned the whole thing into a bureaucratic nightmare.
Ron wasn’t looking forward to meeting his friend’s eyes after losing what could very well have been the decisive match of the year.
Still, there was no excuse for him to stall any longer. He was already the only person left in the changing room.
Sighing, he dragged himself up from the bench and exited, heading towards the Gryffindor Common Room… only to run into Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, all in understandably high spirits, in the corridor leading to the castle.
“Say, Weasley, I’ve been wondering…” Malfoy drawled at the sight of Ron.
“What?” Ron asked wearily, hand automatically reaching for his wand.
Malfoy smirked and took a few steps towards Ron, leaving his goons behind.
“All those freckles… do you have them on your cock as well?” he asked with glee.
Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter while Ron froze for a long moment, sheer rage taking away his ability to move or speak.
Of which Malfoy took full advantage by leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially into Ron’s ear, “You see, I have this sudden craving for some spotted dick.”
“What?!” Ron gaped at Malfoy in disbelief and then looked towards the still giggling
Crabbe and Goyle. “Did you hear that?!”
They didn’t seem to. Neither did they notice Malfoy wink at Ron before he turned and walked away, laughing nastily.
Ron stood rooted to the spot, mind reeling. Malfoy’s insults had grown both more lurid and elaborate since the start of the school year but this… this was something else. Ron couldn’t even begin to fathom what sort of game Malfoy was now playing.
Ron was still trying to wrap his mind around this newest development when Harry and Hermione, who’d apparently grown concerned by his long absence, found him five minutes later.
In between answering Hermione’s worried questions, and recounting the match bit by bit with Harry, Ron thankfully managed to chase Malfoy and his perverted taunts from his mind.
At least until dinner that day, or more precisely pudding, when the Great Hall was suddenly filled with the spicy smell of spotted dick that appeared on the tables among the usual treacle pies and chocolate cakes.
Ron could feel his face grow hot in a mortified blush even as his eyes travelled automatically to the Slytherin table.
Malfoy met Ron’s gaze with an amused smirk. Then he took some of the spongy pastry onto his spoon and curled his tongue around it before sucking it slowly into his mouth.
Ron quickly turned his eyes away, feeling his blush spread to cover his whole body.
“Bloody ferret,” he murmured shifting in his chair and determinedly fighting with the impulse to look again.
He wasn’t going to let Malfoy get to him. He wasn’t. Even if the thought of slamming his cock into the ferret’s mouth until he choked was most rewarding.
“Did I really just think that?” Ron’s eyes widened in horror.
“Think what?” Harry asked curiously.
“Huh?” Ron looked at his friend in alarm before murmuring an unintelligible excuse and bolting towards the relative safety of the dormitory.
XXXXX
It was a week, a week of jumping at the merest sight of blond hair and carefully not remembering his dreams before Ron ran into Malfoy again. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found this time, as were any other students. Or teachers. Or ghosts… Ron would even welcome Peeves with open arms as long as the poltergeist provided an excuse not to face the unnerving Slytherin.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Weasley. Scared for your virtue?” Malfoy drawled moving to stand right in front of Ron.
“Why would I be scared? What can a little ferret like you do to me?” Ron said with disdain, hoping against hope the blush he could feel forming wouldn’t appear.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. Probably at being called a ferret, Ron reflected, since he seriously doubted Malfoy, by now barely an inch shorter than Ron himself, could harbour any insecurities concerning his height. Be it as it may, though, Ron’s cunning plan to turn the confrontation into a fight seemed to be working well.
Or not, as Malfoy unexpectedly smirked.
“Wanna see?” And he sank to his knees.
“What are you doing?!” Ron all but squeaked when Malfoy’s hands found the hem of his robes.
Ignoring him, Malfoy lifted the black cloth out of his way, leaving Ron with his very visibly tented briefs on display.
‘When did that happen?’ Ron had the time to think before Malfoy unceremoniously dragged the briefs down with one hand and then pointed his wand at Ron’s exposed erection muttering a string of spells.
Ron’s cock tingled briefly and suddenly shrank to half of its usual size.
“Oy! What do you think you’re doing!” Ron yelled in outrage.
“I don’t plan on straining my jaw, Weasley,” Malfoy informed him coldly, and swallowed Ron whole.
Heat.
Wet, silky, clinging heat.
And suction, oh Merlin, the suction. All over him, relentless, merciless, and utterly bloody brilliant.
Ron’s back hit the stone wall, so unyielding compared to the little piece of paradise currently wrapped around his dick, while his fingers buried themselves in the silky blond hair of the boy in front of him as Ron tried to stay upright.
Which was a battle embarrassingly hard to win, what with Ron’s knees turning into rubber and his spine doing its best to curl into a coil.
And then it became impossible to concentrate even on that as Malfoy’s tongue twisted around the underside, hitting a spot that made Ron’s vision black out.
Malfoy started to hum, and the blackness was filled with bursting stars.
The suction intensified almost to the point of pain, and Ron couldn’t breathe any more. The air just seemed to disappear. All that was left was the fire blossoming in his belly and spilling all over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and flowing in a pulsing stream though his cock straight into Malfoy’s talented mouth.
Ron moaned brokenly when it finally stopped, and slumped down the wall once Malfoy withdrew and no longer supported him.
“Finite Incantantem,” Malfoy waved his wand absently over Ron’s groin, using his other hand to smooth back his hair. Then he gave Ron a hard look.
“No freckles. You’re a disappointment, Weasel,” he announced before turning on his heel and walking away.
Title: Of Ferrets and Puddings
Author: Czeri
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: So yeah, the story is based on a primitive word play, but come on, it’d be a crime not to use this particular pun!
Feedback: Any is always appreciated.
It’d been an exhausting game. And they’d lost. Only by 40 points, true, but the smug look on Malfoy’s face as he circled the pitch with the snitch held tightly in his raised hand had made Ron’s heart feel as heavy as if the Slytherins had already won the Cup.
Ron could only imagine how much more horrible it had to be for Harry, who’d been forced to watch the match from the stands because the matter of his ban on Quidditch was still in the process of being cleared up by the Ministry. Apparently the fact that Umbridge, who’d given the order, had remained unresponsive and thus unable to call it off, had turned the whole thing into a bureaucratic nightmare.
Ron wasn’t looking forward to meeting his friend’s eyes after losing what could very well have been the decisive match of the year.
Still, there was no excuse for him to stall any longer. He was already the only person left in the changing room.
Sighing, he dragged himself up from the bench and exited, heading towards the Gryffindor Common Room… only to run into Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, all in understandably high spirits, in the corridor leading to the castle.
“Say, Weasley, I’ve been wondering…” Malfoy drawled at the sight of Ron.
“What?” Ron asked wearily, hand automatically reaching for his wand.
Malfoy smirked and took a few steps towards Ron, leaving his goons behind.
“All those freckles… do you have them on your cock as well?” he asked with glee.
Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter while Ron froze for a long moment, sheer rage taking away his ability to move or speak.
Of which Malfoy took full advantage by leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially into Ron’s ear, “You see, I have this sudden craving for some spotted dick.”
“What?!” Ron gaped at Malfoy in disbelief and then looked towards the still giggling
Crabbe and Goyle. “Did you hear that?!”
They didn’t seem to. Neither did they notice Malfoy wink at Ron before he turned and walked away, laughing nastily.
Ron stood rooted to the spot, mind reeling. Malfoy’s insults had grown both more lurid and elaborate since the start of the school year but this… this was something else. Ron couldn’t even begin to fathom what sort of game Malfoy was now playing.
Ron was still trying to wrap his mind around this newest development when Harry and Hermione, who’d apparently grown concerned by his long absence, found him five minutes later.
In between answering Hermione’s worried questions, and recounting the match bit by bit with Harry, Ron thankfully managed to chase Malfoy and his perverted taunts from his mind.
At least until dinner that day, or more precisely pudding, when the Great Hall was suddenly filled with the spicy smell of spotted dick that appeared on the tables among the usual treacle pies and chocolate cakes.
Ron could feel his face grow hot in a mortified blush even as his eyes travelled automatically to the Slytherin table.
Malfoy met Ron’s gaze with an amused smirk. Then he took some of the spongy pastry onto his spoon and curled his tongue around it before sucking it slowly into his mouth.
Ron quickly turned his eyes away, feeling his blush spread to cover his whole body.
“Bloody ferret,” he murmured shifting in his chair and determinedly fighting with the impulse to look again.
He wasn’t going to let Malfoy get to him. He wasn’t. Even if the thought of slamming his cock into the ferret’s mouth until he choked was most rewarding.
“Did I really just think that?” Ron’s eyes widened in horror.
“Think what?” Harry asked curiously.
“Huh?” Ron looked at his friend in alarm before murmuring an unintelligible excuse and bolting towards the relative safety of the dormitory.
XXXXX
It was a week, a week of jumping at the merest sight of blond hair and carefully not remembering his dreams before Ron ran into Malfoy again. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found this time, as were any other students. Or teachers. Or ghosts… Ron would even welcome Peeves with open arms as long as the poltergeist provided an excuse not to face the unnerving Slytherin.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Weasley. Scared for your virtue?” Malfoy drawled moving to stand right in front of Ron.
“Why would I be scared? What can a little ferret like you do to me?” Ron said with disdain, hoping against hope the blush he could feel forming wouldn’t appear.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. Probably at being called a ferret, Ron reflected, since he seriously doubted Malfoy, by now barely an inch shorter than Ron himself, could harbour any insecurities concerning his height. Be it as it may, though, Ron’s cunning plan to turn the confrontation into a fight seemed to be working well.
Or not, as Malfoy unexpectedly smirked.
“Wanna see?” And he sank to his knees.
“What are you doing?!” Ron all but squeaked when Malfoy’s hands found the hem of his robes.
Ignoring him, Malfoy lifted the black cloth out of his way, leaving Ron with his very visibly tented briefs on display.
‘When did that happen?’ Ron had the time to think before Malfoy unceremoniously dragged the briefs down with one hand and then pointed his wand at Ron’s exposed erection muttering a string of spells.
Ron’s cock tingled briefly and suddenly shrank to half of its usual size.
“Oy! What do you think you’re doing!” Ron yelled in outrage.
“I don’t plan on straining my jaw, Weasley,” Malfoy informed him coldly, and swallowed Ron whole.
Heat.
Wet, silky, clinging heat.
And suction, oh Merlin, the suction. All over him, relentless, merciless, and utterly bloody brilliant.
Ron’s back hit the stone wall, so unyielding compared to the little piece of paradise currently wrapped around his dick, while his fingers buried themselves in the silky blond hair of the boy in front of him as Ron tried to stay upright.
Which was a battle embarrassingly hard to win, what with Ron’s knees turning into rubber and his spine doing its best to curl into a coil.
And then it became impossible to concentrate even on that as Malfoy’s tongue twisted around the underside, hitting a spot that made Ron’s vision black out.
Malfoy started to hum, and the blackness was filled with bursting stars.
The suction intensified almost to the point of pain, and Ron couldn’t breathe any more. The air just seemed to disappear. All that was left was the fire blossoming in his belly and spilling all over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and flowing in a pulsing stream though his cock straight into Malfoy’s talented mouth.
Ron moaned brokenly when it finally stopped, and slumped down the wall once Malfoy withdrew and no longer supported him.
“Finite Incantantem,” Malfoy waved his wand absently over Ron’s groin, using his other hand to smooth back his hair. Then he gave Ron a hard look.
“No freckles. You’re a disappointment, Weasel,” he announced before turning on his heel and walking away.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-07-07 08:07 am (UTC)Yeah, spotted dick is somewhat of a... curiosity, isn't it. I actually quite like it, and I've figured, what the hell, Draco might too ;-)