sexyscholar | Ficlet: The Tightest Knot Undone, NC-17

Title: The Tightest Knot Undone
Author: Mona
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Summary: With Ron Weasley, Draco has been enjoying a reasonably carefree dating experience, but lately he’s noticed that little things are beginning to tug at his heartstrings.
Warnings: Domish!Ron, bondage, flogging, a dash of foot fetish.
Disclaimer: I don't own them; they own me.
Beta: The awe-inspiring

thrihyrne. I beg to differ -- you rock, m’dear.
A/N: This is, in an offhanded way, a thank-you to

stuckinsea for giving me the original sketch of one of

glockgal’s works of art. It still makes me blush when I look at it.

Draco Malfoy came back to his flat and was greeted with the sounds and smells of frying meat and brewing coffee. Ron Weasley, his...his-- the man he’d been dating for the last nine months -- padded around the kitchen in his bare feet. Draco stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, appreciating Ron’s lean body as he paced on the tile floor.

Ron looked freshly showered: his hair was a dark russet mess of wet tangles plastered against the back of his neck. He hadn’t dried himself properly, so the faded t-shirt he’d shown up in the night before clung to his skin and rode up around his waist, exposing a tiny bit of pale, freckled skin above his low slung denims. He kept picking at a spot on his back, as if he were trying to scratch it.

Draco seized the opportunity, moving forward and scratching the offending spot that Ron couldn’t quite reach. “What’s for lunch?” he asked, nipping at his earlobe.

Ron flinched and turned quickly, frowning at first and then giving Draco a quick kiss on the mouth. “Sandwich and coffee -- you don’t have a whole lot to work with here, Malfoy.” Ron switched off the stove with his wand and turned to face Draco. “It’s no wonder you’re so bloody skinny.”

“Weasley,” Draco said haughtily, “I don’t cook -- why do you think restaurants were invented? And I’ve told you, I prefer to think of myself as lithe, thank you very much. Never mind that -- I’ve brought you something.” He produced a long thin box from behind his back and presented it to Ron.

“What is it?” Ron looked warily at Draco before wiping his hands on his denims and taking the box. “Well?”

“Just open it, you git.”

Ron scowled at him for a moment, and then opened the box. “Oh...” He stared wide eyed at the contents and then back at Draco, leaning in and whispering to him as though they were sharing a naughty secret. “This...well, I mean -- this is a whip, innit?”

“This,” Draco answered, pulling the item out of its velvet-lined box, “is called a cat o’ nine tails. See?” He pulled on the thin braided leather cords; each had been tied into a knot and followed by a tassel on the end. “...eight, and nine. One for each month we’ve been dating.”

“Wow. That’s surprisingly...sentimental of you, Malfoy,” Ron said with a smirk.

Draco’s upper lip curled into a gentler version of the sneer he’d been perfecting since childhood. “Hmph. You can go fuck yourself, Weasley.”

“But that’s what I have you for.” Ron set the box on the counter behind him and circled his arms around Draco’s narrow waist, tugging his body closer. “Really though, thanks...I think. I was planning to get you something when we’d hit a year -- did I miss something?”

Draco chewed at his upper lip, concerned about the way his heart buoyed at the idea of sharing something resembling a real future with Ron. He decided to ignore it for the present.

“You didn’t miss anything,” he said honestly and craned his neck upward and nipped at Ron’s jaw. “You need to shave,” he murmured, ignoring the growth long enough to inhale his scent while Ron massaged the small of his back.

“Yeah, I know,” Ron agreed absently, lifting his arm to rub at his the stubble on his jaw. “So tell me, how do we use that thing?” he asked, gesturing to the whip in Draco’s hand. “I mean, I know what you do with it, but-- well. Is it going to hurt? And where would you use it? I--”

Draco chuckled and pressed his forefinger to Ron’s plump and slightly chapped lips, hushing him. Ron gave it the barest hint of a kiss, and Draco mentally scolded his heart for tripping a beat.

“Pay attention...there’ll be a test later,” Draco said as he arched a thin eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal his forearm and grasped the handle and whipped the leather strands lightly across his forearm, grunting softly at the light thwack! it made against his skin.

“Just like that; and to answer your other question -- you can use it anywhere that strikes your fancy.” He breathed the words against Ron’s lips using the low voice he knew would stir his blood in all the right places. Ron’s body didn’t disappoint; Draco could feel his burgeoning erection pressing hard against his thigh and he made a small sound of approval in the back of his throat.

“Can I see it?”

Draco grinned and placed the “cat” in his hands, watching as his long fingers moved slowly over the thin braided handle. Ron looked up and smiled, and Draco caught the devilish glint in his round, blue eyes just before the small whip clattered on the floor and he was pulled into a bone-melting kiss.

Ron's wide hands kneaded into his back, and as Draco tucked a hand over the front of his denims to cup the promising hardness he’d just felt against his thigh, he had to agree that -- in some cases -- it was indeed more blessed to give than to receive.

~*~*~

Draco made a sharp hissing sound as the thin braids of leather lashed against his lightly muscled torso. Ron had been gentle with the whip, but Draco’s creamy, fragile skin had still reddened from being struck repeatedly. A pleasant tingle had already begun to spread through Draco’s limbs, and he writhed wantonly against the mattress.

Ron, who had been straddling his hips, set the flogger on the bed beside them and hummed satisfactorily. Closing one hand around Draco’s stiff and leaking dick, he bent forward and sucked his right nipple into his mouth, holding it carefully between his teeth and running the tip of his tongue over it. Draco’s back arched at the wrinkling skin of his areola and soft, tortured moans tumbled from his swollen lips.

“Oh...bloody fuck, Weasley...” Draco groaned into the otherwise silent bedroom. His fingers ached to grip into the thick, coppery hair he’d come to adore, and would have done so -- had he been allowed.

Ron, in a display of uncommon wickedness, had placed Draco’s arms above him and cast a Binding charm, conjuring silky black ropes that tied his wrists and ankles to the wrought iron head and footboards, respectively. The former Slytherin had to admire the little Weasel’s initiative.

Well, maybe not so little, Draco thought to himself as the hand on his cock disappeared and was replaced by Ron’s impressive length sliding and throbbing over his own.

Draco had never been bound before -- none of his past lovers possessed the nerve -- so it had been quite the surprise to discover that he rather enjoyed it. There was a strange, but potent sense of freedom in restriction; the paradox of which was not lost on him. How could Ron possibly have known that he’d needed that so acutely? The idea that this man -- his childhood enemy -- was progressively stirring feelings which had been safely locked away for years was disconcerting to Draco. He’d have to make a point of ignoring that later...in addition to about a dozen other things he’d been not-thinking about.

“You’re hot all trussed up like this,” Ron whispered, breaking Draco out of his thoughts. He brushed away the white-blond fringe from his sweaty forehead and then, as if to illustrate his point, cradled Draco’s heart-shaped face and placed small bites along the skin between his jaw and his lips, moaning as he finally dipped his tongue into Draco’s mouth.

Draco eagerly returned the kiss, twisting his own tongue around Ron’s and savouring the taste of his lover’s talented mouth. He tugged at the bonds around his wrist, but the knots didn’t budge and he mewled pitifully.

Ron broke the kiss and chuckled, pressing one more firm, flat kiss on Draco’s reddened lips. “Something the matter?” He was trying to hide a smug grin and doing a piss-poor job of it.

“You’re not enjoying yourself?” he asked, and when Draco didn’t answer, Ron rubbed the pad of his thumb against his flat nipple. Leaning down on his elbows, he brought up his other hand, twisting both nubs and eliciting a reedy moan from the blond.

“You certainly sound as though you’re enjoying yourself...” Ron pressed his mouth against Draco’s chest and murmured, breathing in hot, unsteady puffs against his skin. His clever tongue darted in and out, slithering over the pale scars that Draco had carried since their sixth year of school.

A frisson of arousal shuddered down into Draco’s groin and he cried out, vaguely surprised that his brains hadn’t oozed out of his ears. “Merlin’s beard, Weasley,” he gasped. “You’re driving me mad here. Suck me or...let me suck you. Whip me... fuck me...damn it -- do something.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Ron said, kissing Draco’s chest one last time before sitting upright.

Draco whined at the loss of body heat; he was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration and the air was cold as it wafted over him. “What--” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “What’s an idea?”

Climbing off of Draco, Ron kneeled beside him. “Sucking me -- while I do you.” He ran his hand down Draco’s stomach, threading his fingers through the soft thatch of platinum curls surrounding his dark pink cock. Draco shivered in anticipation of being stroked, but Ron stopped just short of his shaft, turning and grinning down at him.

“Bastard,” Draco hissed.

“Naturally; I’ve had a brilliant teacher,” Ron shot back. He turned so that his back was to Draco and straddled him again, this time over his chest. Then he dipped forward and pressed his tongue against the head of Draco’s cock. Ron slid it over the hole at the tip and lapped at the fluid that swelled to the surface, moaning contentedly. “Bite me, and...nngh...I’ll bite you back, Malfoy -- harder,” he warned, and then swallowed Draco to the root.

The head of Ron’s cock had twitched against Draco’s lips, and he wasted no time sucking it into his mouth. He couldn’t take the whole of Ron’s length -- he was neither talented enough, nor in the right position to attempt such a feat, so he managed as best he could. As he listened to Ron’s appreciative grunts even as he threatened him, Draco reckoned that his best was good enough. His hips bucked up into Ron’s mouth as he was taken in, and he let out a garbled moan around his own mouthful.

Ron hummed around Draco’s cock as he sucked him, and slipped the tip of his forefinger into the slippery mix of his saliva and Draco’s fluids that oozed down the shaft and pooled briefly at the base before sliding it down between his legs. The fingertip pressed against Draco’s entrance -- tickling, rubbing and eventually pushing inside.

Draco’s muscles spasmed and tightened around the intrusion; his legs began to shake from the effort of trying to push down on Ron’s finger. Each time he’d come close to getting it deeper inside, Ron would pull the digit back just beyond Draco’s limited reach. Draco wanted to yell at him, but it would have meant releasing Ron’s pleasantly firm cock from his mouth, which just wouldn’t do at all.

As it happened, he didn’t have a say in the matter -- without warning, Ron dismounted, taking his wonderful mouth and wicked fingers with him. He sat up and wiped his mouth with a freckle-sprinkled forearm. “Greedy bugger, aren’t you? You don’t have to chase after it, Malfoy.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s it? Jeez, you’re slipping -- which reminds me... Accio lube!” A phial of clear gel sailed toward the bedroom, making a clinking sound as it knocked against the doorframe along the way; Ron caught it in his hand.

“It’s about fucking time,” Draco hissed, yanking at the ropes around his wrists.

Ron, seemingly unfased by Draco’s sense of urgency, only clucked his tongue and smiled again. “No, not quite yet -- there’s something else I’m going to do first.” He placed the phial on Draco’s stomach. “Be a doll and hold that, would you?”

Draco sneered at Ron. He wanted to be livid but...there was also something powerfully attractive about Ron’s domineering demeanour, and he just couldn’t manage it. Ron ignored him and leaned over, grabbing his wand from the night table and picking up the abandoned whip by the handle.

Ron waved his wand over it, and Draco watched with no small amount of fascination as the handle was transfigured into what looked like a thin, black leather cock. The braids were still there, wagging back and forth while Ron positioned himself between Draco’s open thighs. He picked up the phial of gel and popped the cap, pouring some onto the newly-fashioned dildo. Clear, oily goop slid down the shaft and Ron’s fingers, and Draco shuddered when he pressed the tip at Draco’s hole and nudged at it a bit before pushing it inside with little effort.

With a light flick of his wand, Ron cast a spell on the dildo, making it vibrate as it suddenly sprang to life inside of Draco. Waving the wand as though he were conducting an orchestra, Ron proceeded to make small, but deliberate movements up, down and side to side, and the dildo responded in kind, turning and twisting as it slid in and out of Draco’s slippery arse.

Draco began to keen and pull at his bonds as the leather shaft warmed and moved inside of him on it own. The braids whipped against his inner thighs and the hotfulltight feeling of which he’d grown so fond throbbed into his groin, sending tiny needles of heat throughout his lower back and thighs.

“Isn’t magic brilliant?” Ron asked, smirking and quickening his pace.

It’s great -- now stop fucking around and get bloody on with it, you great spotted weasel, Draco had thought to himself, but when the time came to speak, all he could get his mouth to say was, “Shit...god...yes.”

After commanding one final twirl of the dildo in Draco’s anus, Ron made a backward flick of his wand, and the black leather phallus slipped out of him with a soft, wet pop. The device sailed back into Ron’s hand and he turned the whip/dildo around and proceeded to swipe the thin braids against Draco’s now gaping entrance.

“Ahh! That tickles!” His muscles clenched involuntarily and Draco beat his head against his pillow and bit his lip to try and keep from giggling outright.

“You want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say that, git.” Draco strained his neck and tried to look down at Ron. “Do it again.”

Ron raised his eyebrow, and Draco was taken aback by how Malfoysian he looked.

“You’re not exactly in a position to make demands, Malfoy.” Ron beat the braids against him more forcefully, and Draco gasped. “You’ll get what I see fit to give you and be glad for it.” He tossed the whip/dildo on the carpeted floor.

Restrained and aroused as he was, Draco didn’t see the benefit in arguing with his hot-tempered paramour...at least not at the moment. “Fine, but I need--”

“I know what you need,” Ron said, pouring more gel into his hand. “And I know how badly you need it.” He played at Draco’s opening with his wet fingertips before finally pressing two fingers inside and rubbing them against jittery muscles.

Draco sighed and squirmed against Ron’s ministrations, breathing heavily against his aching shoulder while the two fingers stroked inside him, scissoring and stretching his channel. Sweat pooled at the small depression between his collarbones, and Draco moaned inane things like, “oh” and “so good” and “sweet Merlin” while his dick jerked and thumped between Ron’s and his stomach.

Ron’s gooey fingers pulled out sooner than Draco would have liked, but he lamented over this for only a second; the bedsprings groaned and Ron scooted in closer between his thighs. “Finite,” he whispered as he waved his wand and the black ropes slid away as quickly and soundlessly as they had appeared. He tossed the wand on the floor as well, and then eased his hands under Draco’s arse and lifted him up.

Draco brought his legs up against Ron’s chest and hooked his ankles over his shoulders. His heart banged against his ribs in greedy anticipation as the head of Ron’s cock nudged insistently against him. Ron pushed in past the tight ring of muscle with one quick slide, and Draco let out a cry as the familiar burn of friction pulsed through his body. He immediately pushed back, gritting his teeth as Ron’s length throbbed within him, and it wasn’t long before they were pushing against one another with practiced agility.

Draco’s nerves felt as though they were on fire, and his mind spiraled down into a sort of prurient delirium. His vision blurred and his tongue licked obsessively at his lips -- a line of saliva slid down his jaw, pooling on the pillow and spreading hot and wet against his cheek. His sphincter’s muscles quivered against Ron’s shaft, gripping him tighter with each slide. Moans deteriorated into beastlike grunts as his arse was pummeled, holding pleasure and pain in a precarious but exquisite balance. The tip of Draco’s cock brushed against Ron’s stomach again, and he moved his hand over his stomach to grab hold of it and wank.

“Don’t touch it...” Ron hissed.

“But I want to come,” Draco whinged.

Ron pulled back until only the head of his cock remained buried in Draco, and then slammed forward again, causing the blond to wail loudly. “And you will, I promise,” he said with a leer. “But it will be on my say-so...and only from my cock. Do I need to bind you again to be sure you’ll behave?”

Draco gnawed on his lip. “That won’t be necessary.”

“There’s a good boy,” Ron purred and bit at Draco’s right ankle. Then he bent Draco’s legs down slightly, holding his slender foot to his lips and wrapping his lips around his big toe, sucking it into his mouth with apparent relish.

Draco screwed up his face, unaccustomed to the warm sort of tickle set off by the mash of lips, tongue and teeth working against the thin skin between his toes. Ron sucked hard on another long toe, flicking his tongue over the top and Draco threw his head back into the pillows and gripped onto the sheets.

“You like this, Malfoy?”

“Yeah...it’s different, but yeah...” Draco licked his upper lip. “What I really liked, though, was getting thoroughly fucked -- if that wasn’t too much for you. Do we need to take a moment?” He shifted against Ron’s pelvis.

“Fuck you.”

“Well yes. I thought that was the whole point, Weasel.”

Ron snarled then, letting Draco’s legs slip down to either side of his waist. He lay down on Draco, grabbed his hips and rocked forward. “I know--what--the fucking--point--is,” he grunted, punctuating each word with a hard snap into Draco’s flushed body.

“Oh...God,” Draco moaned through gritted teeth. Their bodies lurched and pushed against each other in a kind of frenzied mating dance, and his mind went muzzy as Ron’s cock throbbed and swelled inside of him. Draco linked his arms around Ron’s neck and held him close, gasping and clenching each time he was penetrated.

Slick, slapping sounds echoed through the bedroom from the perspiration that had built up between them, and Draco felt Ron’s grasp on his hips tighten, as though he were afraid he might slip away. His cock had been confined between their bellies, and now it twitched with his swiftly approaching climax. “Nononono,” he whined.

“No what?” Ron breathed, still pumping hard into the man under him. “I thought you wanted to come...”

“I did--do! But not ye-- nngh!” Draco was losing the battle -- he could feel his control rapidly slipping away from him as he wrapped his legs around Ron’s waist.

Ron leaned down and licked the shell of Draco’s ear. “But it’s time, Draco. I want you to come now. It’s...time,” he said thickly, and kissed him.

Draco looked at Ron with wide, disbelieving eyes. They’d never used their given names before -- it hadn’t occurred to Draco to refer to the redhead as anything other than Weasley, or one of the variations he’d come up with over the years they’d known one another.

He didn’t have a lot of time to muse over the subject -- his sacs had drawn tight to his body and familiar heat had knotted in his stomach. His thighs clamped against Ron’s waist and his toes curled so tight that he came dangerously close to getting cramps in both of his feet. Draco shook his head fiercely: he didn’t want to come yet-- wasn’t ready-- nowhere near-- not-- now--

“Ron! Ohgodohhhh!” Draco yelled as his orgasm crashed into him like a tsunami. Thin, manicured nails dragged over Ron’s shoulders, leaving behind pale welts on his skin that quickly welled with dots of blood. His semen splattered upward, coating both of their bellies, and Draco tilted his head forward close enough to feel and smell Ron’s breath puffing against his face. They kissed then, and Ron bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Draco whimpered in pain, but still held Ron close as he bucked hard once...twice more into him.

Ron wrenched his mouth away -- Draco spotted blood on his tongue -- screaming and cursing as he tumbled after Draco into his own release. Ron’s seed pulsed into his slick channel -- thick and hot -- and Draco did his best to milk the rest out of him with his rapidly weakening muscles. Ron continued to push into him slowly, sighing and peppering Draco’s sweaty face with kisses as the calm following his climax washed over him. With a satisfied sounding groan, Ron lifted off of Draco: there was a soft, sucking sound as they pulled apart, and Ron slipped out easily. He rolled over until he was aside Draco and, without a word, gathered the smaller man’s pliant body against him.

“Well. That wasn’t bad, eh?” He nuzzled his long nose into Draco’s damp hair.

“Yeah... it was a little bit of alright,” Draco answered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. His sphincter still pulsed after the vigorous pounding he’d received, and he wanted to clean himself up, but the mere idea of it seemed far too ambitious for his boneless form to attempt. Instead he resigned himself to laying there in Ron’s arms.

“Ron...?” The name felt very different than it had when he’d screamed it in the heat of passion moments earlier - good, but different. The other man was silent, and he ventured again, turning over to face him. “Ron?”

The redhead opened his eyes. “Yeah? Sorry.” Ron sounded as though he’d been pulled from the edge of sleep himself. It was almost...cute. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm. I just...why did--,” he yawned. “Why did--? You called me Draco.”

Ron chuckled. “That’s your name, isn’t it? What do you reckon I should call you? I could call you git, but I think that’d piss you off after a while.”

“You arse -- no... I mean. I wasn’t ‘Malfoy.’ And you weren’t ‘Weasley.’ It was just...it was different.” Draco shut his eyes tight; Merlin, he was beginning to sound like a bleeding girl.

“Well, Draco, I’ve been buggering you for nearly a year now, I thought it was about time to call you by your proper name, don’t you? ‘Sides, it feels good on the tongue.” Ron shrugged and closed his eyes.

Ron yawned, and shortly after, drifted off to sleep.

‘Sides, it feels good on the tongue.

It does at that, Draco thought. He added that to his mental list of things he knew he couldn’t ignore any longer and allowed his eyes to slip shut, snuggling closer to Ron, and quickly following him into slumber.

End.