Title - Getting Away 7/14
Author - Lena
Pairing - Harry/Ron, Harry/various OC's (slash and het), Ron/OC (slash)
Rating - this chapter - NC-17
Feedback - [email protected]
For warnings, disclaimers, etc. please see chapter 0/14
Chapter Seven - Jealousy
After they left the joke shop without the joke wand, they walked down the street back to London. Ryan grabbed Ron’s hand and they walked hand in hand. There was not room for all three to walk on the sidewalk together, so Harry walked behind them, having to watch their hands clutched together. He hated it and he decided he hated Ryan. If he would just disappear…which for a fleeting thought Harry was tempted to do.
Harry wondered again if Ryan was jealous of his and Ron’s friendship. He wondered if he knew what Harry felt for Ron. Or if he was just as jealous of what Ron felt for Harry, as much as Harry was jealous of what Ron felt for Ryan.
It was making his head hurt, thinking about all it. They took the train back to St. Ottery Catchpole. Harry sat stewing about how bloody inconvenient it was having Ryan along. They could not hardly get around at all.
*****
They went back to Harry's place to change before they all went to the Burrow for dinner.
The whole Weasley clan was gathered and everyone was chatting while Mrs. Weasley loaded the table with food. Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins, Ginny, everyone was joking and laughing. Even Percy was in good spirits. Harry sat there sulking, though no one noticed.
Ron and Ryan seemed to be holding court at the end of the table. Everyone was trying to ask Ryan questions about baseball and the United States again. What was so bloody interesting about baseball all of a sudden? Harry thought, as he picked at his food. The Weasley boys had never cared before. Everyone was laughing and having a good time.
Harry, who was sitting next to Ginny at the opposite end of the table, muttered under his breath, "What the hell is so fascinating?"
Ginny turned to him and said, "What?"
Harry whispered, "Everyone thinks he is so bloody fascinating!"
Ginny whispered back, "Who? Ryan?"
Harry sarcastically said, "No, Cornelius Fudge. Yes, Ryan!"
"Well, he is a nice guy!"
Harry said getting louder, "Yeah, I know, I've been told and I am sure Ron will tell me again."
Ginny said, "What the hell is the matter with you?"
Harry sat there with his arms crossed in front of him. He was staring at Ryan like that would make him disappear. "Nothing." He said sharply.
Ginny leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Jealous?"
"No!" Harry said angrily.
Ginny chuckled and said, "He may be a nice guy, Harry, but he isn't you."
Harry looked at her and said, "What?"
Ginny leaned over and whispered in his ear again, "Ron loves him and all, but he had rather have you."
Harry looked at her with wide eyes. He spluttered out, "But...but it’s too late."
Ginny smirked and said, "Maybe for now, but not forever."
Harry's hands started to shake. Did everyone know his feelings? Had George said something? When he had been talking to George at the club that one time, he did not get the story all out. Harry had never expressed his feelings out loud except to Sheridan, really. Sheridan hadn’t said anything to Ginny, had she? No, she wouldn’t do that. And for a brief moment, he wanted to out Ginny, right there at the dinner table, even if her date with Sheridan had been a one time thing. Who was she to know what he wanted or needed?
He felt very exposed and if he had to sit there one more second, he was going to start screaming. He jumped up from the table, which caused his dish and glass to clatter. He muttered something about not feeling well and left the table. He rushed from the kitchen to the living room, where he quickly grabbed some floo powder, stood in the fireplace and left for his house.
*****
He was in bed when he heard Ron and Ryan arrive. He knew he was being a lousy host, but he didn’t care. He laid there, until he could tell that they had gone into the guest bedroom.
Harry was lying in bed when he heard creaking. Then he heard voices. Then he heard a groan. He quietly lifted the covers and crept to his door. He opened it silently and padded into the living room. Then he heard another groan. Then he stopped still in his tracks when he heard Ron's voice. "Oh, yeah..."
Harry's eyes got wide. Fuck. They were having sex. Of course they were having sex. What did he think they were going to do? Part of him knew he should go back in his bedroom and put his head in the pillow to drown out the noises, but the other part of him wanted to stand right there and listen to everything they did.
He decided to stay there for a while. He could hear them grunting and groaning. He could hear them whisper their love and their names. Harry's stomach was in knots. His heart hurt. He wanted to be in there with Ron.
He knew he had been a coward, not taking a chance to be with Ron and it was too late. Now those small pangs of jealously he felt when he was on vacation were now smoldering into anger.
He stood there frozen, listening to their lovemaking noises. It made him sick. He wanted to walk in there and rip them apart. Tell Ryan he cannot have Ron. Ron was his. Ron had always been his. His Ron.
He stood there a while longer until it was obvious that they were reaching climax. He heard Ron squeal and Ryan pant. He couldn’t take it anymore. He walked back into his bedroom and crawled back into bed.
He reached into his boxers and grabbed himself. He started stroking himself and thinking about Ron. He remembered when they were younger and did not know quite what to do with themselves, so they would rub up against each other. It was usually after Harry had a nightmare and Ron would crawl into bed with him, so Harry could fall asleep.
Harry moaned softly, thinking of Ron. He pulled one of his pillows on himself and turned on his side. He rubbed back and forth, still stroking himself. Trying to remember the exact feelings, he would have when he would rub against Ron.
He closed his eyes and pretended the pillow was Ron. He whispered to himself, "Ron, Ron, Ron..." He began to pant as he began to leak into his boxers. He continued stroking and thrusting against the pillow. He took the other pillow and pulled it over his face, so he could not be heard. He mumbled Ron's name, over and over into the pillow.
He turned over on his stomach with the pillows under him. He pushed himself into the bed, moving quickly, wanting to come. Wanting release. Finally, he felt himself come inside his boxers and he continued to thrust against the pillow. But he did not feel release. He just felt loneliness. And he just began to cry.
*****
Harry got up after a restless night’s sleep and walked out to the living room. Ron was on the couch flipping through a magazine. Harry could tell he was pretending to read. Ron looked up and said, “Hey, Harry.”
Harry felt a bit on edge and said, “Where’s Ryan?”
Ron said, “Oh, Mum wanted Ryan to come over and pick up his Weasley jumper.” Ron laughed.
Harry did not laugh. He was not amused at all. He felt his anger well up in his throat. First, the Weasleys’ just love Ryan, then he gets a jumper. What was next - a fucking Weasley spoon?
He knew he was utterly jealous of Ryan and Ron’s relationship. Ryan monopolized all of Ron’s time. It was revolting and listening to them the night before had been torturous, though he knew most of that had been his own fault. But he was scared. Scared of not being Ron’s friend anymore. What ever the cost he had to show Ron how felt, whatever that meant to their friendship. And now he had a few minutes alone with Ron…finally.
He did not know what possessed him, but he walked over to Ron and sat next to him. It happened so quickly that Harry couldn’t have stopped himself, even if he wanted to. Instead of saying how he felt, he placed his hand on Ron’s upper thigh and reached over fast and kissed him hard.
Ron gasped. Then he pulled back and said, “What the fuck are you doing, Harry?” Harry continued pushing onto Ron and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around Ron’s neck and pressed his lips hard against Ron’s mouth.
Ron pulled back again and whispered, “Harry. Why are you doing this?” Harry kissed him again. Ron did not move this time and kissed him back. Harry moved his mouth across Ron’s cheek to his ear. He nibbled on his lobe.
Ron whispered, “Harry, stop this, please?”
Harry continued nibbling Ron’s earlobe and started down to his jaw line. He finally reached Ron’s neck and started to kiss and suck, when Ron grabbed Harry’s arms from around his neck, pulled away and said loudly, “Harry, stop it!”
They looked at each other. Ron looked frightened. “Harry, why?”
Harry was angry now, with himself. He pulled away and jerked his forearms from Ron’s hands. He yelled, “I don’t know!” But he did know. He loved Ron.
Ron said softly, “Yes, you do. But I’m with Ryan now.”
Harry yelled, “I know that!” Harry stood up and started to run to his bedroom.
Ron chased after him and grabbed his arm. Harry tried to jerk away, but Ron held on. Ron said very softly, “Harry, you had your chance...”
Harry moved his arm fast upwards to get away from Ron and felt his hand hit Ron in the face. He did not care if he had hurt him, as he ran into his room and slammed the door.
Harry threw himself on his bed. He heard the door open. He turned over and yelled, “Get out, Ron!”
“Harry, please...I’m sorry!” Ron said.
“For what? I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m the one who made the mistake!” Harry voice was loud and shrill.
Ron said quietly, “You want me...now...I mean...you’ve changed your mind?”
Harry tears well up in his eyes and he started to cry as he said, “I don’t know. I just know I love girls, but I love you. Do I have to make a choice?”
Ron sat down on Harry’s bed. “Harry.”
Ron looked towards the door. “No, Harry, you don’t have to make a choice whether to like girls or guys. You can like both. But you have to make decisions on what you want and you cannot fuck around with people’s feelings. Whether you mean to or not.”
This made Harry cry harder. Ron lightly touched Harry on the back. Harry stiffened. Ron got up and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
He remembered when he and Ron were on vacation and just cuddled with each other and he knew that that was the moment he should have let Ron know just how much he loved him. And he should have gotten over all his confusion, because he should have never let Ron go.
Harry had tried to tell himself, giving Ron up because Harry didn’t know if he wanted him as more than a friend, was the stupidest, worse mistake Harry had made in his life. And now he was paying for it. Because Ron was leaving and Harry could do nothing about it.
*****
Harry walked into the living room and saw Ryan sitting on his couch with a suitcase next to it. Harry looked at him and Ryan said nothing.
Harry said, “Where's Ron?" He looked down at the suitcase.
"In the bedroom." At that moment, Ron walked out of the bedroom with his own suitcase.
Harry said, "Ron. What are you doing?" Harry knew Ron was probably still angry at him, but did not understand why they had packed. "Are you going back to the Burrow?"
"I can’t be around you right now, Harry." With that Ryan got up and walked into the extra bedroom and shut the door.
Harry looked at Ron in shock. "I said I was sorry!"
"Harry...I...I am not mad. I just...we are going to be spending time at the Burrow for a couple days, then go home." Ron said.
"Why?" Harry wailed.
"I can’t do this!" Ron looked in pain. "I can’t be around you!"
"Ron, are you saying…you can’t be friends with me? You said you would always be my friend!" Harry burst into tears again. He was irritated with himself for being nothing but waterworks and anger, since Ron had come home.
“I don’t know what you want from me! You fuck around with my feelings. It’s too hard!" Ron yelled.
“It’s too hard? To be around me?” Harry asked.
"Because I still love you. Damnit, Harry, I’ll always love you! Why did you wait until now to decided all this?" Ron was angry and red in the face.
Harry choked out between sobs, “Because I didn’t know what I wanted...then I was scared...if I was with you and something happened...or something...I’d lose you forever...”
Harry continued, “And now, it’s too late...I’ve lost you...and it’s not how I thought it would happen!”
Ron was silent. He did not know what to say. He loved Harry, but he was with Ryan. He knew Ryan would expect him to break up with him to be with Harry. He wanted to be with Harry, but…
He finally whispered, "I am sorry, Harry, but you always push people away. Then you finally decide and you expect me to just come running back?"
Harry glared at him. "Oh, this is all my fault? You never wanted to run from your family...from me? What the fuck are you doing in Miami then?"
Ron raised his voice again, but through gritted teeth, "But I never would have run from you, if you had wanted me in the first place! I am with Ryan now!!"
Harry glared at him. “You know, Ron, you say that all the time. You make it quite clear you are with Ryan. Exactly whose benefit do you say that for? Trying to prove something?” Harry gestured towards the spare bedroom, where he was sure Ryan was on the other side of the door listening.
Ron said nothing. Then he said through gritted teeth, “I say it because it is true. Why don’t you try it some time?”
“You are so full of shit.“ Harry shook his head and turned. He felt a chocolate frog hit the back of his head. He ran from the living room to his bedroom and slammed the door.
He heard Ron scream at him, "You should talk! Piss off, Harry!"
The first thing Harry saw on his bedroom wall was that print. That stupid print that reminded him of his vacation. That reminded him of how courageous he was supposed to be. That reminded him of Ron.
He remembered when he first saw it.
Harry wandered through the art museum first looking at all the beautiful paintings. He sat for a while on a bench staring at the colors of one painting that he felt was vibrant and touching all at the same time. It was an abstract with bright golds and brilliant greens. He wished he could take it home. There were other feelings that he had from the painting that he could not quite describe.
There were slashes of red throughout the painting, not dark, really, but just as accents. Like they were highlighting it and making it better. Adding to the painting, so the greens and golds weren't as harsh and unfriendly.
A gentleman in a suit walked up to him and said, "Do you like that painting?"
Harry did not look away from it, but said, "Yes, very much. I wish I could take it home."
The gentleman smiled and said, "Well, maybe not the real thing, but it you check in the gift shop, they may have a print of it."
Harry turned to the man and said, "Really?"
"Yes." The man said.
"Oh, thank you!" Harry turned back to the painting and stared. There were colors in the background that he had not seen before. He had a hard time pulling himself away, but he knew there was so much more to see. He decided to look at it one more time before he left at the end of the day and check in the gift shop and see if he could purchase a copy.
The painting relaxed him for some reason. He thought he could've tried to analyze it, but he did not want to think too deeply about his problems and his life. After years of having to face his fears and his mortality, the last few years Harry had become good at avoidance. These were not particularly good traits for an Auror, he knew.
He would be forced to make decisions in his life at some point and his stomach hurt even more, because he knew that it was going to be sooner, rather than later.
Then the first time he looked at it on his wall at the Burrow.
He stepped back and looked at his print. He thought it was beautiful. Even time he looked at the painting, he made him feel different things. The greens and golds and slashes of red made him content. It made him remember all the good times and adventures he had had at school. He remembered all his times with Ron.
Except for the pictures of his parents, no other painting or picture had affected him like this. He looked at it closer, and it made him feel like he could handle anything. It made him feel...Harry tried to find the right word, but the only one that came to mind was...courageous.
He wanted to be brave and courageous, but his life had been wrapped up in Voldemort for so long, that the last few years after his death, Harry just hid himself from life. He still had a long life ahead and he needed to start acting like a good Gryffindor should about the simple and confusing things in his life. Like love.
He thought about Ron. Harry would miss him desperately, but he hoped Ron would be happy. He wanted him to have a good life, even if it meant Harry was not in it every day. Harry sighed. He loved Ron with all his heart.
Ron had been right about him. Ron knew things about Harry, which had taken a lot for Harry to admit to himself. He could not utter those thoughts aloud just yet, but inside his own mind, he accepted himself and what he felt for Ron. Harry had made a conscious choice to do the things he wanted and let Ron go do the things he needed. Maybe someday things would change, but Harry had to first work on himself, before he could be a good person for anyone else, including Ron.
He lie on his side on Ron’s bed, towards the wall and continued looking at the print. There were flecks of even more colors, that he had not noticed before. It was almost as if the print changed every time he looked at it. The paints in the print seemed to shimmer in the low light. Harry knew it was probably because he was so tired, but when he looked at the painting it seemed almost magical.
His eyes got droopy and they fluttered as Harry tried to stay awake a little longer. He continued staring at the print. Finally, he could not keep his eyes open any longer. The last thing he saw was the print on the wall and the last thing he thought of before he finally fell asleep was Ron.
He stomped over to the wall and reached for the top edge with his fingers and ripped it down the middle and off the wall. He picked up the two large pieces off the floor and tore them into small shreds. Then he looked down at the mess he had created, turned to the bed and threw himself on top of it.
Then he could hear Ron and Ryan screaming at each other. Pieces of conversation floated into the room.
“Jesus Christ, Ron! It’s so obvious! Why the fuck are you with me?” Ryan said.
“Because I love you, okay. How many times do I have to say it and how many times do I have to prove it?” Ron said.
Then Harry heard Ryan say, “Harry’s right. You are full of shit.”
He continued to hear spattering of the argument until they left a few minutes later.
Harry didn’t go back to the Burrow to say good-bye, much to Hermione’s consternation. That argument was the last time he saw Ron or talked to him for a very long time.