Work Text:
“Hurry,” Krum whisper-shouted over his shoulder, beaming as he tugged on Ron’s hand.
Ron only laughed, feeling like he was in a fantasy novel, and picked up the pace.
Last month Viktor Krum, the Viktor Krum , had asked him to be his date to the Yule Ball. It was out in the courtyard during their free classes, under one of the castle’s large and deceptively romantic archways. He’d given him one single red rose, and Ron had only felt slightly emasculated when Krum had placed it behind his ear - Because he was mostly ecstatic.
Every moment after that didn’t even feel real. Krum had sent him custom-tailored dress robes to match the Durmstrang uniform dress robes, they’d gone on a few walks by the water in the moonlight, practiced quidditch out on the pitch just the two of them.
Now they were sprinting through the halls of the castle, slightly tipsy off of the spiked punch that George had snuck in, and laughing their asses off as they snuck out to his ship with the goal of snogging in Krum’s room.
Ron didn’t think life would ever be like this for him.
But then Krum made eye contact with him over his shoulder, and he felt his heart grow so large that it almost burst. His lips ached from their messy kisses behind the ballroom’s banister, his cheeks hurt from how much he’d been smiling, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.