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He had lied to Speirs. He had fucking lie to Speirs. He isn’t sure, though, if his heart’s beating all that much, and so loud, because of that or it’s the bike ride.
Ron normally runs as a crazy man at these hours, between night and dawn. He knows he can do it and just get a small traffic ticket for it, so he runs the way he most likes and George fucking loves it, very much. That's why he loves to annoy Ron to give him a ride, "just one, Ron, come on". Mostly Ron doesn’t even look at his face and eventually says a very short "no" to him.
But tonight, George had lied, he had the guts to lie to Ronald Speirs' face and now they are riding the city under the dark velvet navy sky filled with bright stars. Fuck yeah, they are. The wind is hitting his face as if he were inside a freezer, his hair can’t stop waving anywhere and he's sure when he gets down that beauty of a vehicle, he would be very much the face of a crazy man himself. He doesn’t care, actually, he thinks he’d like to see it in the mirror after if he could. It might show him a very funny face. It probably would be.
He’s very much the face of a cat when it arches their head backward for its owner to rub their chin while narrowing his eyes to (maybe) feel the caress better when Ron talks to him:
“Are you having fun?”
George’s eyes snap open at that. He couldn’t be…He didn’t know, did he?
“Ugh?” he asks, deviating his eyes from anywhere Ron could look at him. Ron was stopped at a traffic light.
“Are you having fun, Georgie?” He turns around and smirks at him.
Fuck, he knows.
“Ok, I just lied because you wouldn’t give me–”
Ron snorts, chuckling, “You are obstinate, aren’t you?”
George doesn’t know what to do with that so he just shrugs. Ron's his older brother’s best friend, so he really doesn’t hang out with him to know any other side of Ron that wasn’t that mysterious and dangerous figure everybody saw on him.
“Georgie,” Ron calls, still smirking, teasing him. He is trying to see George’s blushing face but the younger boy was hiding his face.
“Don’t do it,” George says, pouting, looking even further away.
Then, Ron turns a little more and pulls George to look at him, tugging him by the chin.
“Georgie,” he chuckles again but this time he plants a soft kiss on George’s lips. It’s very chaste but it’s affectionate and George takes his time, tasting the soft skin before opening his eyes again. Ron continues, “Don’t tell your brother.” George’s petrified and can just nod. “Now, what do you think of a bike ride tomorrow?”
George doesn’t know what to answer. His body seems to just know that he wants to taste Ron and retain the taste in his mind by licking his lips.
He bites his lower lip, trying to figure out the next step.
“May-maybe I do," he stammers.
Ron arches an eyebrow at him but then, he nods, "Ok.”
He is about to turn the bike on as he turns around when George leans onto him, squeezing the warm body under him. He’s fucked, but God, why shouldn’t he try?
“Can you give me more kisses if I accept your offer, boy?”
Ron rolls his eyes but George can see a ghost of a smile on his lips. He turns around, pulling George to him for a tongue kiss. The tongue into his mouth, which isn’t his, seems to explore each spot of his virgin mouth. It’s so sensual that George feels weak, excited. George’s arms, which are still around Ron’s waist almost drops to Ron’s butt, almost because he still knows it’s Speirs who he’s kissing and he has still a lot to get to know about the guy. He still nips on Ron’s lower lip, those lips were too full to not too, thick like syrup and honey and as sweet is the taste of them, like grapes.
“So yes?” Ron smirks, pulling away. He seems to look at something he is very proud of.
George touches his lips unconsciously.
“Yes,” he sighs.
"So hold my waist and I will take you tomorrow night," Ron smirks, turning the bike on and starting running with it.
George’s head is light and he just nods.
He wants to keep reliving it over and over again. He just hopes Lip wouldn’t fight his best friend for it. George isn’t really minding the attention he is receiving.