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And the worst part was how much of a privilege it would be to have their hearts broken by each other.
-Draco Malfoy-
Ginger hair wafted slightly in the late Autumn breeze, making Ronald look like the Prince that he wasn't.
"I lied," Draco had to force the words out of his mouth, the knowledge that if he didn't speak up in the moment then he never would, "It wasn't just a kiss—"
"–I know," despite the otherwise rude interruption, the other teen's voice held an air of sadness that seemed to live in his very bones.
"I think about it every night," and he did. They tried to play it off as this meaningless thing that only existed for the sole purpose of putting on a good production, but that's not all it was — there was more to it than either of them wanted to admit.
A pause in their conversation settled down for a brief second, yet felt as though it were a five ton weight. When it was over, Ron was admitting in a soft, low voice, "So do I."
The pair had to face different aspects of themselves in the light of this unwarranted, unwanted, and unexpected thing blossoming between them.
While Draco had no qualms about liking a man – already knowing he preferred them anyways – he knew what his cards in life were. Eventually, he'd reach the point where he couldn't run from his responsibilities to his family any longer and marry a witch of his parents choosing. It wasn't what he wanted, never was, but he accepted his Fate.
On the contrary, Ronald had previously believed himself to solely be attracted to women; the one time he checked Harry out notwithstanding, since everyone was caught eyeing up the Chosen One at least once. It's true that he wanted to stand out from his brothers and sister, but not like that.
The wind whistled down a nearby corridor, pulling them out of their thoughts. In his frustration, Draco punched the castle wall next to him. A stabbing pain erupted up his arm as the force broke a couple knuckles. His breath hitched, coming out in pants; it was his feeble attempt to fight off the agony he felt in his hand and heart. "What have you done to me, Weasley?" Pulling away, silver eyes locked with blue ones. "That kiss should've disgusted me—"
"Yeah, welcome to the club," Ronald had a perturbed yet angry expression painted onto his face, arms crossed as if he were a disappointed parent.
"Shut up," the Malfoy Heir was beginning to become annoyed with getting cut off, "I should be furious about how much I want to kiss you again, but instead I feel all icky and gooey inside–"
Whatever his next thoughts were going to be, they must've melted out of his ear in that very moment. Closing the modest gap between them in record time – thanks to his long, lanky legs – Ron lifted Draco's head up by his chin; connecting their chapped lips in a feverous embrace.
This was nothing like what they shared during the play – that had been hesitant, shy, insecure — while this one had all the markings of a secret pining. Feelings that they were pushing down to the furthest depths of their beings until the very second when it all exploded outwards with no way to shove them away again.
Broken, bloodied knuckles forgotten, the blonde wizard grabbed fistfuls of his companion's jumper; entrapping them closer together than either had ever been with anyone before.
Once their newly bruised lips finally let go, they shared a deep, longing look that spoke a million unushered words — I didn't mean to fall for you, I've never wanted anyone the way I want you right now, I'm becoming stupid under your gaze.
Draco could feel himself caving the more they stared, an already frayed resolve dissolving between his fingers. "How do we go back to hating each other now?"
"Maybe we never really did," it was a very rare moment of potential wisdom from Ron, and his companion was ready to eat it up.
"Yeah, maybe."
Humans always speak about the way time seems to stop in the face of love, yet that wasn't the case here — it moved around them, passing by in a dizzying blur where both wizards were too afraid to budge from their spot; bodies connected with sheer force of willpower alone. The world outside their bubble would stop at nothing to keep them apart, but at least they could have this.
A relatively tiny moment in the face of eternity, fleeting in the way all of their kisses and embraces would be, except it was all theirs. It wouldn't – couldn't – belong to anyone else. Perhaps one day they shall be allowed more; for now, they'd appreciate what they have.
Draco eventually dared to move, only to pull Ron into a tight hug. The tears threatening the corners of his eyes were only a small consideration for it.
It was then that he realised that if he could forcibly fuse them so as to never be parted again, he would. Even in the face of spite.
Their emotions were caving in, and only they could save themselves. Sooner than they'd like, the decision would be presented, the ultimatum — do they crawl back to each other or let go of their ghosts in the face of societal pressures–
Both teens knew what they wanted, but it will take all of the bravery they can muster in order to have it.
Cutting the waves of destiny isn't going to be an easy task, after all.
Fin… or is it?