Work Text:
"Wake up."
Harry raises his head, and the paper stuck on his cheek flutters down on the messy desk next to its kind. Ron's hand is heavy on his shoulder. Safe and warm.
"Leo's already asleep. It wasn't the teeth after all."
"Oh, okay," Harry mumbles and yawns. He tries to get up, but Ron's hold on his shoulder tightens. His thumb moves, rolling over Harry's collar bone.
"What if we stayed up for a while longer?" Ron leans to whisper in Harry's ear.
The words fill Harry with liquid fire; they make his breathing hitch and his toes curl. The door closes smoothly, muffling the sound from the house. It has been so long, too long, and Harry doesn't have to think about the answer.
He tells it to Ron with his lips, his fingers, and his tongue. He seals the deal by kissing every single freckle on Ron's body — and more.
