“I don’t want to be here,” Ron Weasley whined.

Harry Potter barely heard him over the pounding music.  As long as Ron followed behind and didn’t get lost in the club, Harry could take some whining.

“You don’t want to be here because it’s Muggle,” Harry replied.

Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled, their bodies colliding with a near-audible thud.  Ron tangled one hand into Harry’s already-messy black hair and said in his ear, “I don’t want to be here because I’d rather be home with you.”  Then Ron slid his free hand to the small of Harry’s back and drew him close so Harry could feel his erection.

Harry rested his head on Ron’s shoulder and licked a bead of sweat from his neck.  Ron felt him smile as he said, “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Prat.”

Harry chuckled and broke away, heading toward the back of the club. Ron followed.  Ron didn’t know whether to smile or chastise him when he caught up.  Harry had wedged himself between the door of the men’s loo and the payphone.  His green eyes were dancing as he crooked a finger at Ron, beckoning him forward.

Ron grinned as he approached Harry.  His gaze was fixed on Harry’s lips.  Harry kept licking them, drawing his attention to the full bottom one.  He wanted to suck on that lower lip, to drive his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked.

Without saying anything, Harry wrapped his arms around Ron’s waist and drew him close.  He pressed a kiss to the underside of Ron’s jaw, then went down to his knees.  Before Ron could even gasp, Harry undid the zip of his jeans and withdrew his cock.

“Grab the phone,” Harry hissed.  “Pretend you’re on the phone.”  Then he took Ron into his mouth, sucking him deep.

Ron fumbled for the telephone receiver, feeling stupid for just holding it to his ear.  He continued to be torn between illicit excitement about getting a blow job in public and feeling stupid for holding said telephone receiver until a gaggle of girls exited the ladies’ room, glanced at him, dismissed him, then went back onto the dance floor.

Ron groaned, driving his hand into Harry’s hair.  “I’m close, Harry,” he whispered harshly.

In response, Harry released him and stood.  Ron yanked him into an open-mouthed kiss, arching his hips against him.

Harry pulled his mouth free and, standing on his toes, said, “Fuck me.”

Ron shuddered once in desire.  Public sex was one of his fantasies, and now Harry wanted to indulge him.

“Here?” Ron asked, his voice deep with want.  Harry nodded, licking the cord of Ron’s neck.  “No concealment charms?”

Harry laughed.  “That would be cheating.”

“Mmm.”  Ron pulled Harry’s head back so he could look at him.  Harry’s eyes were dark with arousal.  “Then turn around.”

Harry turned, pressing himself against the wall, hands flat on either side of his head.  Ron hung the phone up, reached around Harry and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to expose his arse.

Ron cupped each cheek, spreading them.  Bending, he nipped the back of Harry’s neck, making him moan.  Harry dug into his pocket and came up with a small tube of lubrication, passing it to Ron before returning his hand to the wall.  They normally used a spell, but couldn’t in a Muggle club.

Ron applied it liberally to two fingers, then worked them into Harry.  His fingers clenched, scratching the wall.  Tucking the tube into his own pocket, Ron removed his fingers and positioned his cock there.

“Ready?” he asked, willing to proceed at that point even if Harry weren’t ready.

“Yes,” Harry answered, grinding his arse against Ron, silently begging.

Ron grabbed Harry’s hips, slide one arm under him, bent him forward slightly, and eased his way inside.  Harry shoved one hand into his mouth to stop the loud moan that threatened to escape.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” Ron asked, thrusting deeply.

Harry pulled his hand out of his mouth long enough to answer harshly, “Yes.”

“The only thing better would be Hermione to suck you off.”

Ron felt the shudder throughout Harry’s slim body.  It wasn’t often that the two of them were together without their third partner either watching or participating.

“Or for you to drive into as I fuck you,” Ron continued.  Harry had a penchant for wanting to hear dirty talk while they made love – or had sex, depending upon how dirty it got.

With a deep groan, Harry came, pressing back hard against Ron and melting in his arms.

Satisfied with that result, Ron grasped both Harry’s hips and thrust three or four times before feeling his own climax wash over him, emptying himself into Harry.  After a long moment, he slid out of Harry and straightened his jeans.

“You’ve got to be a mess,” Ron said, amused.

Without fixing his jeans, Harry turned.  He had on a condom.  “I planned ahead.”

Ron’s jaw dropped, then he laughed.  “You bastard.  Did you put that on before we left the house?”

Harry removed it, then refastened his jeans.  He threw the used condom into the bin in the corner before replying to Ron.

“I put it on in the loo earlier...once being near you had me hard.”  Then he reached up and pulled Ron’s head down to give him a deep kiss, driving his tongue deep into Ron’s mouth.

Ron broke off, kissed Harry’s neck gently and whispered, “Let’s go home.”

Harry snickered and led Ron out the rear door of the club.  They both took out their wands and Apparated home.

They found Hermione on the couch, reading.  She looked up, amused, at their arrival and said, “Shagged each other?”

“In public,” Ron added.  “We’ll get you to do that one day, Hermione.”  Ron advanced slowly toward her.

She squealed and ran into their shared bedroom.

“Like that will stop us,” Harry called, laughing and following his lovers into their bedroom.