Word Count: 1,004
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Humour
Notes: Written for 2009 Ron/Draco Ficadron as a pinch-hitter.  I thank J for the fic idea, CR for the beta job, and JB and R for the quick glance!
Summary: A very inappropriate conversation ensues between Ron and Draco.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Warnings: Light bondage
Dedications: None
Completed Date: November 18, 2009

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“Malfoy, your shirt is in the way. Toss it.”

“You toss it, you wanker! I can’t! Your mentally sick mind decided to bind me in this position!”

“Watch it, or I will bite down!”

“You wouldn’t dare. You said you like this flavour.”

“Did I?”

“You most certainly did! Don’t tell me you’re going senile at the age of twenty-five, Weasley.”

“Why the fuck are we on a last-name basis?”

“Because you started it.”

“. . . Are you going to lose that shirt? I’ll just leave you in this condition if I have to.”

“You do, and I’ll figure out a long and painful way to castrate you.”

“You’re the one tied up right now, so I don’t think you’re in any position to give out threats.”

“Shut — a-ah . . . ung.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to blow that way. Now say that I’m your king.”

“Piss off! I am not going to say that!”

“You had no problems saying that when we were in Hogwarts.”

“That was said with a different connotation!”

“I’m not going to move an inch until you say it. Say it like you’re going to worship me.”

“You’re mad and daft! Why would I want to treat you like a king? I’m not going to treat you like royalty! It’s us Malfoys who receive those treatments.”

“If you think that way . . . ”

“Get back here!”

“Say it, Malfoy. Say it like you mean it.”

“No.”

“Mm, okay. I can see your hands struggling, Malfoy. Your lovely mouth may say ‘no’ but obviously your body is more honest.”

“Fine! Weasley’s my king!”

“Which Weasley?”

“Are you an imbecile? What do you mean ‘which Weasley’?”

“There are quite a few of us out there, in case you have forgotten. And stop glaring. It won’t work on me. I’m immune to your antics.”

“Ron Weasley is my king.”

“I can’t quite hear you.”

“Ron Weasley is my king!”

“Now that wasn’t hard, was it?”

“Will you put that yapping mouth of yours to work?!”

“Fine, fine.”

“. . . Harder.”

“. . . How’s this?”

“Better.”

“What’s the matter? You’re losing your ability to speak?”

“I am going to punish you when you’re done with this embarrassing torment!”

“You know you’re enjoying this.”

“In your dreams! Now do let it go.”

“Why? You will just tell me to put it back in my mouth. You’re the one who said to put it to work.”

“That’s not how you do it. Now untie me so I can show you properly!”

“In a minute. I’m not quite done yet.”

“Weasley!”

“You know you’re one ornery bugger?”

“And damn proud of it. Now let me go!”

“There, satisfied?”

“No, because you did a crap job of it. Now let me show you how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, careful with that!”

“You were rough, so I can be just as brutal as you.”

“For a Malfoy, you’re vulgar.”

“At least I have more talent than you, Ronald.”

“Don’t call me that with that in your mouth!”

“Why ever not?”

“Only my mother calls me that, and I don’t need a mental image of my mother right about now.”

“Prude.”

“Shuddup. And seriously, you’re doing an awful job about all this.”

“Thanks a lot. You were no better at it either!”

“I can’t help it. This is my first time.”

“Well, this is my first time, too.”

“I thought Malfoys were naturally great at everything, including bragging?”

“. . . I ought to hex you to Glastonbury and back. Aside from that, though, apparently even us Malfoys need to practice at certain things to achieve that status.”

“Wow, you’re being humble. Has your head shrunk a bit?”

“Fuck you.”

“Do you really want me to do that?”

“Only you would take that kind of sentence literally.”

“But you’d like it.”

“How about we finish this first before we move onto your boorish interpretation.”

“Why, Draco, are you looking forward to that?”

“You fucking me? Not really.”

“Why are you smirking, then?”

“Because I want to. Now let me bring this to an end!”

“All right.”

“. . . There, done.”

“That was fast.”

“You were faster than me. It took you less time to come to that point.”

“I guess you just know how to savour that better than I do.”

“Of course. Malfoys are better at everything.”

“Is that a challenge? Do you want to go another round this time?”

“Do you really want to smoke another cigar?”

“Not particularly. It’s not a bad brand, but it’s rather expensive for a mediocre cig. I think I’d rather kiss you instead.”

“You’re barmy.”

“Of course! I am in love with the snarkiest git in the world.”

“Yes, now are you going to keep your word or not?”

“What are you talking about, Draco?”

“. . . Why am I with a brainless oaf like you?”

“I’m not that brainless! I can kick your arse at chess.”

“That’s all luck.”

“Sore loser. Now what word?”

“Oh, for love of Merlin! You said you wanted to kiss me!”

“Ah! Well, then, I’ll be more than happy to comply.”

“Good. One last thing.”

“What?”

“Keep that mouth occupied. You talk too much at times!”

“So do you, but I’ll make sure we both won’t say anything coherent the next hour or so.”

“Pervert.”

“But you love it when I act that way.”

“True, but this time I will make sure you pay for binding me like that!”

“Well, you were trying to snatch that cigar out of my hand!”

“Hmph. By the way, what’s with the shirt comment earlier?”

“Oh, I wanted you to take off your shirt so I could stare at your sexy chest while I smoked your cigar.”

“. . . I am so telling your mother that you are sexually harassing me.”

“I thought I said I don’t want a mental image of my mother. Especially now!”

“Your fault!”

“Oh . . . I’m shutting us both up now!”