A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Thirty-Five

Harry reaches a finger towards them and opens his mouth. "Intruders."

Ron frowns, but before he has a chance to say something, the door swings and slams shut in his face. He huffs, turns to Blaise and gives him a smile. "You need sleep. Come on."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, they're obviously not going to harm each other. Do you hear screaming? They're fine, and I'm tired. Let's go."

The Gryffindor drags him back down the West Wing and up the Gryffindor staircase, into the room with the open door.

Blaise stops right inside the room. "I'm sleeping in here?"

"Well, yes."

"Are you taking Harry's bed?"

Ron makes a face. "Of course not. Harry's bed smells like treacle tarts from all the times he sneaks them in."

Blaise tries to keep a straight face, he really does. But Ron is looking at him expectantly and he just throws his hands up, releasing a laugh. "You're impossible."

"Maybe," Ron grins, pushing his sheets aside and climbing in. He pats the other side of the bed. "Sleep?"

Blaise hesitates. He looks at the rug that's spread under the bed and thinks he can sleep there. It really isn't a big deal, but for some reason, Blaise's legs start itching and he wants to start pacing.

Until there's a pair of arms that hefts him over a shoulder and he yelps in surprise. "Ron!"

"Don't overthink it. We're just two boys sleeping in the same bed. Like a sleepover. That's it."

Ron places him over the sheets and rounds the bed, tucking himself in. Blaise huffs. No goodnight kiss?

And, as if reading his mind, Ron lifts his head from under the duvet, takes Blaise's hand, and he places a lingering kiss on his knuckles.

The smile that Ron gives him makes his stomach leap. "Goodnight, Blaise."

"Goodnight."

Ron keeps looking at him, and he can't really see him but he knows he is because he can feel it.

"What?"

"Are you going to get under the covers or freeze to death, your Highness?" He laughs.

Blaise refuses to flush. He just scoots up and pushes the sheets back with his feet, then slides down. He remains facing the canopy of the bed, the swirling golden patterns on the red velvet.

"By Godric, Blaise," Ron laughs incredulously. "Could you be anymore awkward?"

"I apologize, I do not..."

"Okay," Ron chuckles again, lifting his hand. "I'm going to stop you right there."

Ron is shaking his head with a smile as he scoots closer, and without warning he wraps an arm over Blaise and pulls him against his body. The Slytherin feels his lungs turn to mush. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable," Ron says. He adjusts his arm so it lays under the pillow that Blaise is laying on and when he's satisfied, he lays his head back down. He takes a deep breath, sighs, and Blaise gets goosebumps when he feels it on his neck. So close.

"Right," Blaise says. He lifts an arm and puts it over Ron's on his waist.

"Are you comfortable?"

"This..." Blaise pauses, thinks about not saying this is different. He rolls his eyes at himself and throws his thoughts out the window. "This is an improvement."