Burnt Toast And What You Mean To Me

Ronald Weasley was very sick. His muscles were aching, his head was pounding, and his temperature had reached 101°. To anybody else this would have been the ideal time to call in for a day off work. Of course Ronald Weasley wasn't just anybody, and nothing in the macroscopic or microscopic world would keep him away from the free "All-You-Can-Eat Gourmet Lunch Buffet" at his office.

Ron was so tightly wrapped up in blankets, that the only thing showing was his face and red hair. If you squinted, you would have sworn it was a gigantic fajita.

"Come on Draco, I'm only a little warm! Really though, I feel -" Ron was dettered from finishing his sentence by Draco's wand hastily being shoved in his mouth.

Draco muttered something, and various, slightly faded numbers appeared on Ron's sweaty forehead.

"Ron, are you insane?! Your temperature is one hundred and one! You could die from...something."

Draco looked like a swan whose feathers had been badly disheveled; and who was now angrily trying to put them back in place. In fact, if Draco did have feathers, Ron's excuse of wanting to risk his life for lunch would have ruffled most of them off. Draco sat rigidly at Ron's bedside and scowled at the thought (Honestly, lunch!).

"Igsts low lig leal -"

"What?!" Draco removed his wand from underneath Ron's tongue.

"I said 'It's no big deal', I'm just going for lunch and that's it! I swear!"

"No dam it; you're damm near at death's door already. I should be taking you to St. Mungo's, is what I should be doing, not keeping you here."

"Ah Draco, quit over-reacting. I'll be fine once I get some food in me."

Draco's expression of annoyance was suddenly wiped off his face. Just as suddenly an amused smirk appeared to replace it.

"Oh really? Is that all Ronnikins needs to feel better? A nice, big breakfast?"

Draco practically leaped of the bed, and skittered off into the direction Ron hoped wasn't the kitchen.

Ron groaned. Not just because Draco was about to make him the worst breakfast ever, but because he was right. Ron had stopped arguing because talking made him too dizzy to think.

364He writhed in his sheets, trying to loosen them up a bit, because he was afraid they'd cut off circulation to his head if they stayed on longer. In the end he gave up, and was content with just being able to watch the December sunlight shinning through the curtains of their bedroom. Rapidly, but not surprisingly, he fell asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sniff, sniff. Draco, have you burned down the house yet?"

Ron had only been sleeping for ten minutes when he was awakened by the smell of something burning. The wretched odor had permeated the room at an alarming rate, which meant that Draco had done a good job of messing things up this time.

"Who's the one over-reacting now, you thick-headed prat?! There is nothing wrong; I just had a disagreement with the toaster. Nothing I couldn't handle. I showed that toaster good, bloody stupid muggle contraptions!"

Oh sweet Merlin, don't let Draco burn down the house while I'm still tied to this bed like a mental patient at St. Mungo's.

"Draco, love, do shut the fuck up please."

Draco walked into the bedroom carrying a tray laden with what he liked to call "food". He carefully sat down next to Ron, and presented him with his breakfast.

"Ronald Weasley, I present you now with the fruits of my love. Feast!"

Ron wished they really were fruits. The eggs were runny, there were bits of floating things in his juice, and his toast looked like it was made with a blowtorch. The toast was actually more like thin blocks of coal than anything else.

"Draco, did you breathe fire on this toast? It's completely inedible."

Draco wasn't really offended by the cheap shot at his name and the insulting of his toast, mostly because he knew his food was unfit for human consumption. Nevertheless, he played up the opportunity to tell Ron off.

"I beg your pardon! I did not slave away in that sweltering death-trap you call a kitchen so I would met with ingratitude from a fickle boyfriend."

Draco resumed the "ruffled swan" look once again.

"Aw come off it, I'll eat your toast."

Ron took a tiny bite from the corner of the "toast" and winced. He might have been right about it being inedible.

"See, I ate some, don't be mad. Why'd you make me breakfast anyway, you knew I'd stay home if you kept up the 'for your health' bit."

Draco softened up noticeably, and then became more irritated.

"Bloody fucking hell Weasley, I can't make you breakfast if I want too?! I don't know what's up your ass , because it's certainly not my prick, you prick. I really can't see what's so damm special about some office lunch!!!"

The last words were almost shouted at the tightly bundled red-head. Ok, so he's angry, thought Ron.

"You're one to talk about pricks up asses. Drop the Mummy Malfoy act, and tell me what's bothering you. My health's never thrown you into a fit like this before. Out with it then."

Ron batted his long golden-red lashes ever-so subtly, parted his illness reddened lips just a tiny bit, and locked his bold blue eyes with Draco's stormy gray ones. He new all the right button's to push. Seducing information (important or otherwise) out of Draco had become something of a penchant for Ron. Of course, most of the information he had extracted had been to further advance his ability to seduce Draco. Draco looked down at his breathtaking fajita, and frowned. He opened his mouth and started speaking softly in an underlying passionate voice.

"As pretty as you are Weasley, you're still thicker than a caldron bottom. After all this time, after all we've been through; you still don't know the extent of what you mean to me?

Let me tell you something Ron, when I was a child I loved my mother and father just as much as you did. You may not have shown it, but you did. I gave my mother all my love and she always gave it back, but when I tried to give my father a hug or anything resembling the affection I'd always known, he'd pull away.

I gradually figured out that to find my father's affection, to find my father, I would have to take another path. I did everything to the best of my ability to gain his love and attention. I adapted his beliefs because they were a part of him, and I thought if I made them a part of me, then he would certainly accept me. But it didn't work. The only child he ever thought of was Potter. Hell I loved Lucius so much; I even offered my hand in friendship to the mad bugger. Even though it was rejected, it was the thought that counted. I did it for Lucius, because I thought that if I was friends with the only boy he paid attention to, then maybe he'd pay attention to me too.

Of course none of that stuff worked. I only succeeded in becoming a petulant, unpopular, and unhappy git because I realized he could never really love me like I needed. That pissed me right off. I couldn't stand the sight of the Potter because of what he did to my father, but I also couldn't stand the thought of Lucius, because he actually thought of damm mud blood Potter more than me, his pure blood only son. That's pissed me off too.

But then there was you. Gods, I hated you when we first met. So damm smug and belligerent, even with dirt on your face. I school, I only thought of you to see if I could bring Potter down through you. I never really saw how beautiful you are because I was too full of hate and love. Then when I did see it and you saw mine, I new you'd never love me if I stayed on the path I took for Lucius. So I changed my path again, this time to find you. I changed my belief system, again, so that you would accept me.

Once again, I tired to be nice to Potter, but I guess this time with you threatening him with death and all, it worked out better. See, Ron, I love you, and I'm working hard at it. But I can't fucking stand it when you ignore that to got off and do random shit that's not important. How the fuck do you think it makes me feel, when you risk your life for lunch? Shit, Weasley, like shit. Sometimes I don't know why I even bother finding someone to love me if this is all I get."

Draco lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The talk had exhausted him, and he was starting to feel a bit warm. The words took a bit to sink in for Ron. He stared at the ceiling alongside Draco, and after a couple seconds he felt he had formulated the correct response. Ron placed the tray of "food" on the table next to the bed, then turned around and kissed Draco soundly.

"Draco, I love you, and I'm sorry for being a ass." He ran his hand along the Draco's cheekbone and followed it to entwine his fingers in Draco's hair of pallid gold.

"I'm right here to love you, and I intend on doing so for as long as I live."

Draco smiled and gave Ron a lingering kiss in return. "Well, in that case, I wouldn't recommend you finish your breakfast ."

finis