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phineasjonesoops! i wrote another wee ron/goyle. i think this will also be for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
harrimad_sol, cuz extended birthdays rock. also, um, oddly, i think this is the dirtiest thing i've written. and no, it's not all that dirty.
Quiet
Desperate, Ron pushes the back of his hand into his mouth and bites down, hard. Even so, little sounds - somewhere between grunts and whimpers - escape. He doesn’t know where the urge to yell is coming from anymore. First it was the roughness – the fingers digging into his hipbones, the stone wall scraping his backside. But now maybe it’s the relentless rhythm of Goyle’s mouth on him. Yeah, that’s it.
Ron bites harder. He doesn’t want this to stop – ever – and knows that if he’s too loud, it will. Oh god, almost there. If he can just hold back…
Ron gives in to a short, wordless exclamation as he comes and Goyle allows him that much. The grip on his hip slowly relaxes and as Goyle moves away, Ron slides to the floor in front of him, heedless of the scraping wall.
Goyle wipes his lips with the back of his hand and stands slowly. He turns toward the door and Ron’s eyes follow him. No, don’t leave yet. Don’t leave now.
“Goyle,” is all he says.
Goyle turns silently in the doorway, looks at Ron where he sits, knees gathered to his chest, and says, “It’s Gregory,” before he turns to go.
harrimad_sol, cuz extended birthdays rock. also, um, oddly, i think this is the dirtiest thing i've written. and no, it's not all that dirty.Quiet
Desperate, Ron pushes the back of his hand into his mouth and bites down, hard. Even so, little sounds - somewhere between grunts and whimpers - escape. He doesn’t know where the urge to yell is coming from anymore. First it was the roughness – the fingers digging into his hipbones, the stone wall scraping his backside. But now maybe it’s the relentless rhythm of Goyle’s mouth on him. Yeah, that’s it.
Ron bites harder. He doesn’t want this to stop – ever – and knows that if he’s too loud, it will. Oh god, almost there. If he can just hold back…
Ron gives in to a short, wordless exclamation as he comes and Goyle allows him that much. The grip on his hip slowly relaxes and as Goyle moves away, Ron slides to the floor in front of him, heedless of the scraping wall.
Goyle wipes his lips with the back of his hand and stands slowly. He turns toward the door and Ron’s eyes follow him. No, don’t leave yet. Don’t leave now.
“Goyle,” is all he says.
Goyle turns silently in the doorway, looks at Ron where he sits, knees gathered to his chest, and says, “It’s Gregory,” before he turns to go.