A Vexing Strife

June 28, 2010 @ 1:49 am (Permalink)
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Word Count: 1,842
Rating: PG-13
Category: Humour
Notes: This is what happens when the author has trouble sleeping at night combined with a holiday gift assignment.  Thanks to Mosh for the beta job!
Summary: Ron and Draco argue over something Draco implies.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Warnings: Slash
Dedications: Qwhip for Harry Holidays 2007
Completed Date: November 4, 2007


‘Twas the couple weeks before Christmas, when all through the flat, not a creature was stirring, not even a rat. That is with the exception of two creatures who were arguing their heads off. Imagine a red-headed man, along with a snowy-blond man. One was obviously a Gryffindor, and the other was a Slytherin. Believe it or not, they were madly in love with each other, but one would not be able to tell since they constantly argued with one another! But that fine line between love and hate had all but disappeared between these two men.

And indeed these two were desperately in love. This would be their second Christmas together, and they already did many activities to show their Christmas spirit. They hung stockings by their fireplace. Never mind that they used the said fireplace as a transportation device, the Christmas stockings, made by Molly Weasley — who decided that the jumpers weren’t enough, hence the stockings — went there for the sake of tradition.

They both knew that Saint Nicholas would not be there to stuff their stockings, but they had both planned on putting surprise goodies in there when the other wasn’t looking.

At least that was the original plan.

Right now it looked more as if the two would end up strangling one another instead. Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy pitted against each other in a very intense argument. Actually, it seemed like one did more work than the other, but that was not the point. The point was that had it not been for the silencing charms around their place, their neighbours definitely would have heard a bunch of colourful expletives from the arguing couple.

“You think I need a larger size? What the bloody hell do you mean? Are you saying I’m small?!” Ron bellowed to Draco, who didn’t even flinch at the loud volume of Ron’s voice. In fact, even the spittle from Ron’s outburst didn’t deter Draco at all.

Calmly, Draco responded. “You said it. I only merely hinted at my dissatisfaction.”

“Since when did you become such a size queen?” Ron demanded, his hands resting on his hips.

“You just never bothered to ask if the size was ever an issue. I simply chose not to bring it up since it really wasn’t a big issue back then.”

“For fuck’s sake, Draco, is it really a problem? I mean are you going to be a wanker about this just because of something I have no real control over?”

Draco walked — no glided — over to an armchair and sat on it, crossed his legs, folded his arms in front of him, and gave Ron a bored look. “I’m a Malfoy, Ron. We always want the best for ourselves. You of all people should know that by now. Really, I knew you were dense, but at this rate, you are really making me question your mental capabilities.”

Ron stalked over to where Draco sat and hovered over him. “Well if you’re going to be that Malfoyish about the damn size, then go get yourself a sodding dildo!”

“A dildo . . . ?” For a brief moment, there was a look of confusion and then a glint of mischief in Draco’s eyes before it disappeared. His face resumed its bored expression. “Maybe I will. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“What?!” Ron leaned forward, reaching around Draco and gripping the sides of the chair, trapping the blond. “You thought I was serious? How dare you think of replacing me with a damn piece of rubber? Have you gone mad?”

Draco chuckled softly. “You suggested it. Now you’re saying I shouldn’t take the idea into consideration?” He paused and looked upward to gauge Ron’s emotions. “Really, that’s a fantastic idea. If you can even remotely afford it, why don’t you get me an excellent, high-quality dildo? I heard the glass ones are the best; you wouldn’t want your lover to be contaminated by diseases from the plastic ones, would you?”

Instead of responding to Draco’s bait, Ron stormed off, leaving Draco to stare after his lover with a mischievous smirk.


A couple of days later, Ron walked into the sitting room where Draco was relaxing with a book and a cup of tea. He promptly stopped in front of his lover and dropped a package in Draco’s lap. “This is for you.”

Draco set his book down and stared at the generic white package. “I know Christmas is around the corner, but isn’t it a bit too early?”

“Hey, you’re the one who complained about that issue the other day. I’m just trying to exemplify how much of an idiot you’re being about this.” Ron said this defensively, crossing his arms in front of him and giving him a look that bordered on being triumphant and exasperated.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who proved to be all miffed up about that issue.”

“Shut up and open the package.”

“All right.” Draco followed Ron’s request. He soon stared at the contents of the package with an indecipherable facial expression, and for a good few minutes, silence reigned in the room.

“It’s what you wanted, right?”

In a strangled voice, quite uncharacteristic of Draco, he managed, “Really. Have you gone absolutely, positively daft?!”

“Well, no, but it is what you wanted!” he protested in his own defence.

“A dildo. While it is an interesting concept and all, must it be an umbrella-shaped one of all things?!”

“It was the only one they had that was made of glass!”

“Probably the only one in your price-range, too, I assume.”

Ron glared darkly at Draco. “Hey, not everyone is rich and overflowing with galleons like you are. Like I said, it was the only one they had.”

Draco coughed, his cheeks now stained with red from either anger, embarrassment, or both. “Admit it. You just watched Mary Poppins one too many times.”

Ron began to sputter loudly. “No, that’s not it! I mean, yes it is my favourite movie ever since Harry got me the Dee-vee-dee player, but — that is not the point!” He calmed himself down and tried again. “I got it for you because you said you wanted it! For Merlin’s sake, I . . . ”

“You what?” Draco prompted to get Ron to continue.

“You’re the one who turned into a size queen! And as much as I hate the idea, I just wanted to make you happy!” Ron finally managed to say.

“Oh for the love of Salazar.” Draco stood up, making sure the package was in a safe place, and he stepped closer to Ron. He tilted Ron’s head up with his index finger under Ron’s chin, and he saw anger and insecurity mixed in those blue eyes.

“You are so daft. Did you really think I’d replace you with that thing?”

“Well . . . no, but it did make me wonder.”

“It was a joke. Besides, when I was referring to the fact that you ‘need a larger size,’ I meant your clothes.”

“My clothes?!”

“Yes, your clothes.”

Ron scowled. “Nothing’s wrong with them.”

Draco exhaled exasperatedly. “The bottoms of your robes are at least five centimetres above your ankles, as well as your sleeves only coming below your elbows! Not to mention that your trousers are too high up, as well, whenever you want to dress like a Muggle.”

“They still fit and are comfortable, Draco,” Ron said, a frown etched on his forehead. “Besides, I can’t believe you were talking about my clothes this entire time when I thought you meant something else.”

A slow, amused smile crept up onto Draco’s face. “It is hardly my fault that you jumped to the conclusion like the Gryffindor you are.”

Ron snortled. “And you, my sneaky Slytherin, acted perfectly like one, deceiving me to believe something entirely different. Beautifully done.”

Smirking, Draco pulled Ron closer by the front of the robes. “Before we go on, I am serious about your clothes. I hardly think it is right for only one of us to look like a decent human being while the other looks like he’s in a dire need for an entire wardrobe fix.”

Ron automatically wrapped his arms around Draco’s slim waist. He began to nuzzle against the area between Draco’s neck and shoulder. Breathing against the pale skin, he said, “Yes, yes. You can be a sodding prick over my clothes later. In the meantime . . . ”

“Yes?” Draco asked huskily.

“I want to try that present out on you. I think a little bit of a punishment is in need.” Ron began to nip at the sensitive skin, sucking and twirling his tongue on the reddened spot. “I want you to be sprawled out on our bed, I want to tease you with that toy until you beg and plead for me to enter you. Once I do, I want to fuck you so hard into the mattress that you won’t walk straight for the next few days.”

As Ron’s description went on, Draco’s breath became more ragged as his hands clutched the back of Ron’s robes. “Let’s do it.”

“In due time, love.” Ron let go of Draco and backed away. He grabbed the dildo and started to walk towards their bedroom. With his free hand, he tugged on Draco’s wrist. “But first, let’s take a bath together.”

“You’re making me wait? You’re evil. More evil than a typical Slytherin.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Once in the bedroom, after putting the dildo on the bedside table, Ron pulled Draco into his embrace, and he kissed him. The kiss was long and drawn out with Ron exploring the warm, familiar caverns of Draco’s mouth, his tongue examining every nook and cranny. He gripped Draco by the hip, drew him closer, their groins grinding against one another. The pleasurable sensations with the combination of needing oxygen made him break the kiss, and in the dimly lit room, he studied Draco’s flushed and mussed up appearance.

“Why’d you stop?” Draco panted.

Ron grinned. “I still want that bath, you know.”

Draco groaned, his hips bumping into Ron’s. “You’re really evil. I ought to use that dildo to smack you up on your head instead.”

“That would be a waste.”

“Ron,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Stop yapping and let’s continue this. Otherwise, I may come to the conclusion that the dildo may be a better substitute for you.”

Ron growled and pushed Draco onto the bed. “I think not. After this compare and contrast experimentation, I will definitely have you say with truth that ‘Weasley is my King.'”

“I accept this challenge with honour, Ron.” Draco, lying on his back, traced the outline of Ron’s lips. “But quit your melodramatic, Gryffindor speech-making skills and carry out the experiment.”

“Okay.” Ron leaned and captured Draco’s lips again.

For the rest of the night, the only sounds being heard were bumping, groaning, moaning, and screaming of joy. Both creatures were stirring and not even the arrival of the non-existing Saint Nicholas could interrupt their occupied state.

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