Title: Sort of a Morning

Author: Vera

Rating: R

Summary: Some time in the distant future, Ron contemplates mornings.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Feedback: Loved adored cherished and saved.

Some days Ron woke up in the morning refreshed and ready to take on whatever life had to offer. Others were like this. Morning, but barely, no sun in sight and wondering fuzzily how he got here because this doesn't look like his dorm room or his room at home.

Then it would hit him all at once that he hadn't seen the inside of a dorm room at Hogwart's in a little over a decade, that home was a flat he rarely seemed to sleep in any more and there was a very nice surprise for him at the other side of the bed. Then he wondered how he got here again.

He knew of course, the fundamentals. That he fell asleep in this bed last night and woke up here for the umpteenth time. Briefly, he wondered if it's time to just move in and get it over with, but he didn't want to move to fast. He wanted to keep this new thing growing in him, nourish it and wait to see exactly how it came out.

On the other hand, it would be a lot simpler if he could keep more then just one change of clothing here and perhaps, for once he could remember to bring a spare toothbrush, so that he didn't have to borrow his lover's when he wasn't looking. In principle, he should be grossed out at even the thought of using someone else's toothbrush. He reasoned that having stuck his tongue in the same mouth the toothbrush has been in countless times that using it was really the least of his problems.

After all, he was here. Swapping spit with Draco Malfoy, the man who had once been the boy Ron had hated most in the world. Yes. He really did wonder how he had gotten here.

((((Six months previously)))

What surprised him most about the whole thing was that it had happened in a muggle music store. Ron had gone in to buy his father a birthday gift, barely noticing the muggles moving around him. Life was busy what with his new promotion and helping to plan the wedding. He rarely had a moment to himself that he wasn't using to sleep.

That was most likely why he didn't notice the familiar man in the classical section right away. It had been a long day and all Ron wanted to do was find the blasted CD and get out of the crowded shops. Home and all the comforts it meant, beckoned him. It wasn't until he was almost on top of the man that he'd realized who it was.

"Malfoy?!"

The blonde looked startled and dropped the CD he'd been holding. It clattered to the floor, provoking a mild stare from a few of the other customers around them. With a graceful dip, Malfoy picked up the dropped CD and replaced it. Only then did he turn around and face him.

"Ron Weasely." He said simply. It was enough.

"I thought you were dead!"

"Sorry to disappoint." The voice was the same as ever though it had deepened with the years.

The rest of Malfoy, however, had changed drastically. Blond hair had been grown long, almost to his shoulders, it hung unbound, clinging to porcelain skin. The face that once had been a little childish and round had become chiseled, sharp noble features one would expect from an old family. Age had changed more then his features. The Malfoy Ron had known would never dress like a muggle. This Malfoy had on faded jeans, work boots and a gray T-shirt that clung to him like a second skin. As always, he was whippet thin, though now he seemed almost gaunt.

"I heard that you slipped into a coma after you refused to join your father with Voldemort." The name that could now be spoken without fear. The man was truly dead and gone now. Ron had helped scatter the ashes.

"People said you died when Lord Voldemort did."

"People say a lot of things that aren't true." Malfoy said darkly. He looked washed out, tired and more then a little depressed. It was definitely Harry's fault that Ron felt a stirring of compassion for this man. It was almost certainly Hermione's fault that he acted on that compassion.

"Would you like to share a cuppa with me? Maybe correct some of the rumors and compare notes?"

There was a long pause where Malfoy seemed about to turn him down. Indecision wavered in cool gray eyes.

"All right. Maybe someone should know the truth. It's not like I'm really in danger any more." With an almost inaudible sigh, Malfoy stuck his hands into worn pockets. "Lead on McDuff."

They settled themselves uneasily into a booth at a local restaurant, both ordering tea and a light lunch. Silence reigned after they ordered. It seemed to go on forever before Malfoy cleared his throat and launched into his story, talking rapidly as if he was afraid that something might happen before he could finish.

"Rumor is always a little true. A lot of it is true. My father came to me right before the war began, when we were all feeling the tension. He told me it was time to go home and join him. By then, I had figured out that I couldn't be a part in destroying Hogwart's. The place had been my second home for nearly seven years and some of the brainwashing that my father had been giving me for years was wearing off. I saw him for what he was, a malicious bastard, who didn't give a shit if I died for a cause I didn't believe in. When I refused him in no uncertain terms, he drew out his wand and began the killing curse. He managed to say the first half of the first word before I stabbed him with the sword he gave me for my tenth birthday.

"It turns out that even if you have only a bit of the curse said to you, you can suffer a great deal. I was in a coma for over three months and by the time I was awake, the war was over and won. Dumbledore came to me as soon as I was awake enough to make sense of words. He told me that I had to leave and keep a low profile. Any of Voldemort's followers who might be left would surely try to kill a traitor in their midst. Everyone knew of my betrayal. You know all about Lucius' capture; he survived the stabbing. At least I wasn't guilty of patricide.

"So I became a muggle most of the time. Saw all the places I wanted to see. I had all of the Malfoy fortune and even all the lavish spending I did for three years didn't diminish it. I wandered the globe, gained an appreciation for muggles, a distaste for uncooked fish and generally got tired of it after a while. I landed back here in London. I use a disguise when I'm in the wizarding world. Mostly I own a small shop that makes sure I get up everyday."

He finished as abruptly as he started, leaning back, eyes half-closed. His whole body read tense and Ron tried to imagine running for seven years, constantly waiting to be found out and killed.

"Oh." Was what he managed to say. "So now I know."

"Yes. Now you know. What about you? Marry Granger yet?"

Ron snorted.

"Not likely. I'm actually helping to plan her and Harry's wedding right now."

"Her and Potter? Really. Didn't you and Granger date for years?"

"Only one." Ron felt his cheeks flame. The curse of the red head.

"We got on famously until we both realized that it wasn't what we wanted for forever or something."

"Or something?" Ron's eyes shot up, waiting to catch some insult behind the words, but Draco was only stirring sugar into his tea, his expression closed.

"We weren't in love. She and Harry were." He said tersely. "They figured it all out long after we weren't together anymore. They waited a long time to get married, but I'm glad they are. It's good for them to be together."

"Strange. I always believed that if you wouldn't wind up with Granger, it would have been Potter. You lot were so close, it was hard to tell who fancied who." The comment was a throw away and again, it seemed, malice free. It cut deep though.

"I never thought you'd think of us at all, except to sneer at us and plot our downfalls." Was the best Ron could come up with, unable to cope with the idea that his desire had been that naked to the rest of the school.

"On the contrary, I thought of all three of you a great deal. You had what I wanted and I once had a very obsessive nature." Malfoy took a cautious sip at his tea.

"Something you wanted? You should have just asked. It would have been better then verbally torturing us for seven years."

"I was a child." Malfoy said simply. "A very angry, somewhat spoiled child, who more then anything wanted the friendship of the Boy-Who-Lived. When it was denied me, I threw tantrums."

"Oh....that makes a lot of sense." Except for where it didn't and why was Malfoy telling him all this anyway?

"Maybe. It's only an excuse. Excuses tend to be useless even when they're true. My father told me that and he was right. He usually was." Another calm sip. "You did want Potter didn't you?"

"Did you?"

They lock eyes and it seems like a staring contest that they might both lose. Malfoy turned away first, looking thoughtful.

"I did. Very much towards the end when we were preparing for war. He was always in control, something I envied. He was beautiful then, doing what he had been born to do. I think, maybe, he even knew, a little. We stopped fighting in the last months. A silent truce. You?"

"He was my best friend. I don't know when I started to feel differently, but it was while I was still dating 'Mione. It was hard. I knew that he wasn't meant to be mine and it made me want him more."

"That's Potter. The Untouchable. I'm surprised that Granger managed to get him at all."

The whole conversation has sailed straight past Bizarre and come firmly into the land of Surreal, so Ron in his usual impulsive way, decided to take the full plunge. He continue this until he saw how it ended. That figured out, he was able to relax a little.

"Mione can be very persuasive when she wants to be." He said with a grin.

"She actually asked Harry to marry her. Got down on her knee and everything."

"I wouldn't expect any less. She was always a very clever girl."

They went on that way; Ron filling Malfoy in on all the gossip he had missed about his classmates and Malfoy commenting here and there, adding his own stories. Ron discovered that Malfoy had become an almost entirely different person since he had last met him. The arrogant, racist child he had known with the annoying veneer and cowardly spirit had become a quiet, introverted man, who seemed to be made of invisible steel. The two Malfoys overlapped only enough to convince Ron that he wasn't talking to an entirely different person.

"If we keep talking, I'm going to have to buy you dinner." Ron pointed out, laughing. Malfoy looked up, startled.

"Has it been that long? I didn't realize..." He got up. "I should go...."

How long has it been since he's had someone to talk to? Ron wondered, Really talk to about being a wizard in a muggle world or anything really? How long has it been since I have?

"May I buy you dinner?" He asked, almost choking on his own words.

"There's a nice place down the street..."

"Why don't you come back to my place? I don't think I could eat any

more muggle food today. I indulge myself once a day with something from my own kitchen." There was the glimmer of the old Malfoy and strangely, that was what prompted Ron to agree.

The flat was nicer then Ron had expected, given how Malfoy was dressed. It was done simply, each room appointed with elegant, but functional furniture. There were some souvenirs from Malfoy's travels placed neatly on shelves. They were the only things that marked this place as belonging to him, then any other well to do bachelor.

"Make yourself comfortable. I only need to heat something up and set up the table." The blond hurried by, gesturing at soft looking couch in the living room. Ron sat, feeling a little uneasy now that he was here. This was Malfoy's place, something akin to being in a lion's den. What was he doing here? This was insane and if Harry ever found about it, he'd probably......well, actually, given that Malfoy was now on the side of good and Harry loved to forgive, he'd probably only laugh gently and tell Ron he'd done the right thing. Hermione would most likely smile at him gently and agree. Wonderful. Even the versions of his friend's that lived in his mind weren't properly afraid.

The smell of whatever was cooking floated into the room and it was wonderful. A moment after, Malfoy called him into the kitchen and handed him a warm dish of Yirkey's Fresh Meat Special, an old wizard favorite. It had been done just right and Ron ate with his usual gusto, complimenting Malfoy's cooking without a second thought.

"Thank you." The blonde said cordially, seeming genuinely pleased.

"It's been a long time since anyone else has eaten my food."

"I imagine so."

They ate quietly after that. The only sound was the clinking of silverware. The whole apartment, Ron could now tell, reeked of loneliness. He recognized it. It smelled a lot like his place. Malfoy was by far neater then he was, but they both had the same bachelor feel to their homes.

"It must be hard." Ron ventured. "Living here alone."

"I get by." Malfoy replied stiffly. "I've survived worse things then being my own company."

"I guess I have too."

"Survived worse things then being my company?"

"What?! No, no...."He hurried to assure, then saw the small grin on the blonde's face. "You were joking, weren't you?"

"Good guess. You've gotten very serious in your old age. I thought with those twin brothers of yours stirring up trouble, you'd never get stodgy."

"George is dead." Ron said thickly, hurt as he always was when he remembers. Sometimes he can go months without thinking about his face, contorted in death or Fred's haunted expression that he wore like a bad mask when he thought no one was looking.

A warm hand covered his own, long pale fingers caressing a little.

"How?"

"It was in the war...." He swallowed. Would it ever get easier to tell this story? "We were fighting an orc, I think. I don't know, all the monsters kind of bled together after a while. I remember thinking that I had it cornered that we were really going to kill it. I managed a pretty good spell on it. It fell over.....right onto George. Stupid really. I wasn't looking and he shouldn't have been there. He'd been trying to help, sneaking up behind the thing to stab it in the back. It was so quick when it happened, but then he took hours to die. Me and Fred pushed the thing off of him as quickly as we could, but we were only two men." His voice cracked as it always did. "We watched him die. And for the first few minutes, all I could think about was my grief. Then Fred...he was like an animal. He flew into battle after that. I think he could have taken down Voldemort that day."

"Did he kill himself?" It was a blunt question, one most people would be too polite or too stupid to ask, but coming from Draco.....he was Draco now, everyone who knew the full story of George had to be on a first name basis....it was logical.

"No. He works with our father now, but sometimes...I almost wish he had. His life is over or at least, that's how he acts. It's like someone tore out half his soul or even his heart. I watch him sometimes....I have horrible thoughts. I want to put him out his misery." He never told anyone that before. Instinctively, he knew that it would repulse Harry and 'Mione that he had such thoughts, but Draco was different. Draco knew what it was to have ugly thoughts.

"Sounds reasonable to me." The blonde was looking out in the distance and belatedly, Ron realized they were still holding hands. It felt nice though his fingers were getting a little sweaty. "My mother is like that. They let her go, they had no evidence against her and honestly, I still don't know whether or not she was ever involved. She wanders around the mansion now. I can't go there to often, even if I thought no one would see me. The sight of her makes me sick. Watching people you love die is hard, watching them rot from the inside is worse."

"Yes. That's it exactly." In a matter of moments, Draco had pinned down exactly how Ron had been feeling for years and made it all right. For the first time in a long time, he felt comforted.

"It's funny, isn't it? Once you were a part of a threesome, but odd numbers always fail. I watched you, Granger and Potter for years and

waited for something to give or for someone else to come along, but you were too close, too well knit. Maybe it only took you all longer to crumble." Long fingers moved in gentle fingers on Ron's wrist, only a little distracting.

"We haven't crumbled. We've shifted. Harry and Hermione are stronger now that they are together." Tentatively, Ron opened his hand, moving his fingers in lazy patterns against the pale wrist.

"But you were set adrift. They love you, but it will never be the same."

"Change is necessary to life."

"I suppose."

Another light pause, their fingers brushing awkwardly. With his free hand, Draco pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

"It looks good like that. Long, I mean." Without quite intending to, Ron found himself reaching across the table to tuck a missed strand behind the vaguely pointed ear. It was a family trait this touchiness and one he thought he had been spared, but here he was, acting paternal to a man he'd basically grown up with. He tried to withdraw his hand, but Draco grasped it in his own.

"You've grown up." The blonde said simply. "You're not nearly as high strung as you used to be."

"And you're much less of a prat."

They stared at each other, stalemated, curious. It was Draco, who stirred first, leaning over the table, he kissed willing lips gently. The angle was odd and the kiss brief, but it was more then enough to catapult Ron from his seat and across the table. He drew the surprised blonde from his chair and into a much deeper, more satisfying kiss.

It had building since the first glance in the music store for sure, this deep warm thing in Ron's stomach, but if he thought about it hard enough, he realized it had been longer then that. Years maybe, of waiting for the right person to come along, someone who understood his burdens, but wouldn't pity him for them. Maybe he hadn't known they'd be male, though gender was hardly an issue, maybe he hadn't known it would be Draco, but he had known somehow that he would meet someone like this. Quick and deep.

"Perfect." He muttered against pale flesh, feeling the vibrations of a light chuckle through his skin.

"Hardly. Bedroom?"

"Please."

"How proper of you."

"Now!"

That first night had been odd. They fit together well, even as they struggled to accustom themselves to the others wants. It was easy to be together, exploring new territory. They were both so far from virginity that it seemed a distant unpleasant memory and their experience led them well. When they collapsed finally, it was dark and cool, the caress of a spring breeze seeped under the windows.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to ask around, see if it's safe for you to come back. It's silly having to live like this." Ron murmured into a soft shoulder.

"Perhaps. I'm to tired to think properly about it. Stay the night?"

"Yes."

It was harder to sleep together then to have sex, but they managed to accommodate each other. When they woke in the morning, it was to the smell of dirty bodies and dishes left in the sink. The staleness of the air was gone. They showered together, quiet with each other.

It was only when Ron got to work that he fully processed what had happened. And realized he'd been smiling like a loon since he'd awoken to the point where his face hurt when he stopped. He thought of the night ahead of him, the promise for dinner and it was enough for him to get through the day without getting mad once. Maybe he was growing up. Or maybe all he'd needed was to get laid.

((((Present)))

Draco stirred, reaching out to curl around the other warm thing in bed with him. It seemed to have moved at some point at the night and his hand met only with more bed.

"Grr." He managed. "Ron?"

The bed dipped, heat returned and Draco willingly gave up his dignity to snuggle in closer to the warmth.

"You're so cuddly in the morning. I should take pictures."

Idly, Draco nipped the bit of flesh closest to him.

"Hey! Not nice. "

"Shouldn't threaten me with a camera then. S'nice waking up with you here." His thoughts were all jumbled together from sleep.

"I like being here, even if it means getting nibbled on by a wild Malfoy."

A delicate snort.

"I'll have you know that I am quite well trained, not at all wild."

"Was that supposed to be a comeback?"

"I'm still half asleep, I don't have to make sense." The blonde defended himself, curling in still closer. "Breakfast."

"You'll have to cook, I still can't make toast with your toaster without burning it."

"Bring over you're own then."

Ron looked down at the sleepy face of his lover. Draco was curled tight against him, jovially leeching warmth and bantering, eyes still firmly shut.

"My toaster? I do need it at my own flat, you know."

"Feh. You're never there anymore anyway. Should move all your crap here and be done with it."

"You mean that?"

Maybe Draco fully woke up at that moment by coincidence, but Ron would bet the man had been stirred by the neediness in his voice. The blonde unwound from his cocoon of filched blankets to rise over the red head.

"I'd like very much for you to come live with me, if that's all right with you?" Sincerity in gray eyes and leaking from every pore. Ron wanted desperately to tell him then that this was exactly the way it was supposed to happen and would he please pinch him now to be sure it wasn't a dream. Instead,

"I think I could get used to it."

"Good. I had the Potters pack up your stuff already. You can move in when you get back from work this afternoon."

"WHAT?!"

A slow lazy smile spread across Draco's face.

"I was going to ask you to move in with me tonight, but since you pouted and all, I decided now was better."

"How did you know I was going to say yes?" Ron asked, a bit put out that this momentous decision had been made for him.

"I didn't." The lithe man smiled down at him maniacally. "But a Malfoy never does things by halves. If you'd said no, all your things would have gone up in smoke."

"Really?"

"Maybe. Want to have quickie?"

"I have to be at work in a half hour and you're never that quick."

"I could try."

"Give it up, Malfoy. You'll just have to wait for my luscious body until I get home."

Home. It was home, now. The word was right and Ron had an urge to say it over and over again. Before he could, the leering man above him kissed him deeply, caressing every bit of flesh he could reach. Then he was gone, sprinting towards the shower.

"Don't be late for work, Weasely. You'll have to keep me in the style to which I am accustomed, you know!" With that the bathroom door slammed, leaving Ron a little aroused, a little irritated, a little amused and a lot happy.

Yes, some mornings he really did wonder how he'd gotten here. How lucky he was to find this new bright future. But after the morning he never thought about it to hard. Better to just enjoy.

"You better save hot water for me, Malfoy! None of your long preening showers! The last time the water was so cold my balls tried to crawl back home!" Ron shouted as he walked into the kitchen to scavenge something for breakfast.

"Wimp!" Came the muffled return.

Such was that morning and many more to follow.