Fated
By BeckyTiger

No one knows quite how it happened, least of all Ron. He thinks, in the retrospect that he has found to be not quite 20/20, that he just fell into it. One of those "fated to be" kind of things, that make him snort. He does now, just from thinking about it, and gets milk up his nose and over the table, before subsiding into a coughing fit. His companion at the breakfast table lowers his paper and eyes him with some reproof.

"Weasley, what is it this time?" Draco Malfoy took a good look at Ron, and rolled his eyes. "Is it too much to expect to be allowed to eat my breakfast in peace?"

Ron looked at him with streaming eyes, and gasped out: "It¡'s fated, Malfoy! I've been reading Hermione's women's magazines, and there's nothing we can do about it!"

Draco sniffed and started to shake his paper back out and immerse himself again in whatever dull piece of news he was reading. However, Ron, deciding to run with the bubbly hysterical feeling that comes from getting milk up your nose over a lazy Sunday brunch, crawled under the table and suddenly appeared in Draco's lap.

"What?" Draco had time for one squeak of astonishment before Ron had pulled open his dressing gown and was kissing his stomach and mumbling an explanation through his kisses.

"Well, Draco, it's like this. What on earth are we doing here? How did we end up like this? How did my boyfriend turn out to be a smug, arrogant bastard with the body of a minor deity? Why do I put up with you? It must be fated."

"If it comes to that, Ron," said Draco in a sharp tone, though his hands had dropped the paper and were stroking Ron's head, "what the hell am I doing with a grumpy and explosive wanker, whose idea of a compliment is to tell me I have the body of a minor deity?"

"You see? Fated." Ron squeezed between Draco's knees and the edge of the table and sat in his lap. Draco tilted his head to look up at him.

"Does this mean I am not going to get to read my paper in peace?" he demanded.

"And you say I'm the one who's grumpy in the mornings," mocked Ron, settling himself comfortably. "Draco, how did we end up here? I mean, like this. Not changed, just..."

"Certifiably insane?" supplied Draco, and Ron nodded.

Draco reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. It was slow and deep and warm. When it ended, Ron smiled and stood up.

"Come on. You're too short for us to kiss like this."

Draco scowled. He didn't like being reminded of his height.

"If you weren't a giant freak, I would be quite tall enough."

"Really, Draco, that is one insult you could never make about my family. We most definitely do not have any giant in us." He grinned and sat himself down, pulling Draco onto his lap. Without giving him a chance to reply, Ron kissed him again, accompanying the kiss with hands spreading open a silk dressing gown to reveal smooth skin. Ron knows this skin well, but can never get enough of it.

"Stop that," said Draco. "I'm trying to think."

"If you can still even try to think I must be doing something wrong."

"It was all Dumbledore's fault, I'm sure of it," continued Draco. "He was the one who arranged my practical project to coincide with your temporary employment."

"Really, Draco, don't you think that's giving him more credit than is due? How could he know what would happen?"

"I don't know. But I know that when I walked into the Great Hall and saw you there it was like the first time I'd ever seen you. We hadn't seen each other in about five years, had we?"

"No, I guess not. First our separate jobs during the war. It seemed kind of- I don't know, petty to keep arguing when we were in such danger. And then we went different ways."

"Well, that aside, when I saw you again I was stunned."

"You didn't look stunned. In fact, if I remember correctly, you looked me up and down and said, with a sneer..."

"OK, Ron, you don't need to remind me. I'm sorry, alright." Ron smiled and kissed Draco again.

"You don't need to keep apologising," he whispered. "I like you just the way you are. You smug, arrogant, sneering bastard."

Draco kissed Ron again, harder this time, and started to tug off his t-shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"If you can¡¯t tell, Weasel, where on earth have you been for the past three years?"

"I might have known that soppiness was a turn on for you, Ferretboy."

Their mouths met again in a kiss that quickly turned fiery as Ron dragged open Draco's dressing gown and manoveured it off where it soon joined Ron's t-shirt on the floor. Draco twisted both hands in Ron's hair and ground himself a little harder into Ron's groin. Ron moaned a little into Draco's mouth, and cupped his warm, naked arse as Draco wriggled against him. He swept everything off the table and pushed Draco up onto it, into the space where his newspaper and cup of tea had been. He kissed Draco's neck, down his chest, across his stomach. He licked the head of Draco's erection, and smiled up at him, at the grey eyes that had gone a little cloudy.

"See, this is how we ended up here."

"Ron, I'm feeling horny, not philosophical," gasped Draco. "Suck my cock."

Ron wrapped his tongue around it but didn't suck. He licked, he nibbled, he pumped his fist slowly up the shaft as he teased the head; he did everything but suck, as Draco lay back and lifted his legs over Ron's shoulders. Then Ron moved lower, licking his balls, lower still, licking at his entrance, smiling savagely as Draco panted. He used the fingers of one hand to tease Draco open, and the other to release himself from his boxer shorts. He slid one finger inside Draco, moving his mouth back up to his cock. Draco looked round for some lubricant, and remembered he had some in the pocket of his dressing gown. He gasped this out to Ron, who slid his mouth off Draco's cock and retrieved it with one hand. He lifted his eyebrows at Draco.

"Remember last weekend, when you pounced on me on the sofa and we didn't have any lubricant?" said Draco. Ron smiled, his fingers now busy with the lubricant. They twisted and thrust and opened Draco like a flower.

"You always think ahead," he said, and positioned himself between Draco's thighs. Draco propped himself up on his elbows and dragged Ron forward for a kiss.

"Not always. When I kissed you for the first time, I never imagined that we would end up here," he hissed into Ron's mouth, wrapping his legs around Ron's hips and pulling him closer. Ron leaned forward over the edge of the table and thrust inside Draco. His hands held Draco steady as he shifted to find the best place. Then he was thrusting, and Draco was meeting each thrust, with his fingers digging dents in Ron's back, sliding lower to pull Ron's arse closer, squeezing the firm cheeks. They panted together, and Ron buried his face in Draco's neck, sucking and biting the skin as they raced toward orgasm. Draco's head tipped back and he started to moan. They were soon at the top and soaring, Draco's arms and legs locked round Ron, Ron's hands clutching Draco close. They drifted slowly back to earth, and let their hearts slow. Ron pulled away at last, and helped Draco off the table. They stood hugging each other close.

"I love you," murmured Ron into Draco's ear, and felt Draco smile in response.

"I know. I love you, too."

"Do you think this was fated?"

"No, I think we chose this. I choose you."

"I'm going to keep on choosing you forever."

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