“I was in Hogsmeade,” Neville replied as he put away his purchases from his trip to town. Chocolate frogs went on the table by his bed. His new ink and quill went into his bag for class on Monday. The rest of his items went in the trunk at the foot of his bed. Looking up, he was surprised to see Ron staring at him with an intense look in his pale eyes. Taken aback, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t meet us at the Three Broomsticks,” Ron pointed out. “You always meet us there.”
“Oh, yes, well, I had something else to do today,” Neville explained, his cheeks turning red as he remembered exactly what he had been doing. Or should that be who? Anthony Goldstein, Ravenclaw prefect. They’d been meeting up whenever possible for the past two months, since they’d realized they both fancied wizards. A nice wank had led to Anthony kneeling and sucking him until he came and then he had eagerly returned the favor. They weren’t in a relationship or anything, though they were friends. Their meetings were simply for sexual satisfaction. Neville wasn’t ashamed that he preferred blokes to girls but it was something he kept to himself because he wasn’t sure how his friends or classmates would react. With Anthony, he could just relax and know his secret was safe.
“I was worried that Malfoy or someone might have done something to you,” Ron said as he sat on the end of Neville’s bed. He looked at him with an odd expression, a bit like he looked when he was trying to beat Harry at chess and was trying to figure out the perfect strategy. There was also curiosity in his eyes as he finally told Neville, “I saw you behind Madam Puddifoot’s with Goldstein.”
“What?” Neville squeaked, eyes widening as he stared at his friend. “You saw?”
“Guess that explains why you had this in your robe pocket, huh?” Ron snorted, holding up the Ravenclaw tie Neville had accidentally grabbed when they’d hurriedly gotten dressed the other night. “I found it when I got back here. Just hanging out of your pocket where anyone could find it.”
“Ron, I can explain.”
“I’m not stupid. I know what I saw.” He tossed the tie on the bed, his expression turning inquisitive as he asked, “How did you know?”
“That you were that way.”
“What way?” Neville was humiliated, unable to believe one of his best friends had caught him with his trousers down and another boy sucking him off and was now casually discussing it as if it happened all the time.
“That you liked blokes instead of birds.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t know,” Neville shrugged. “I just realized one day that Adrian Pucey was a right handsome guy and felt a reaction that I didn’t feel when I looked at the girls.”
“Pucey? That pretty boy Slytherin?” Ron grimaced. “He was a ponce. Prancing around the Quidditch pitch like he was Merlin’s gift. Hermione fancied him, you know? Caught her ogling him in the library one night last year after we broke up.”
“Ron, this is rather embarrassing,” Neville mumbled.
“Sitting here talking about boys with one of my best friends!”
“Why? If you fancied girls, we’d be talking about them,” Ron pointed out. “What’s the difference?”
“You do like girls,” Neville sighed as he sat down beside the redhead. “Most boys aren’t likely to discuss other men with their gay friend.”
“I‘m not most guys.” Ron said. “And you don’t look that happy.”
“Did I miss something?” Ron asked. “You said you were my gay friend. While you’re normally right pleasant, at the moment you don’t seem that gay.”
“It’s a Muggle term. Hermione told me about it when she asked me about my preferences last year,” Neville explained. “To Muggles, gay means blokes shagging blokes.”
“Trust those Muggles to warp a perfectly good cheerful word,” Ron muttered. “Not that you’re being bent is warped or anything. Between you and me, I think George and Wood were really close during Oliver’s last year at Hogwarts.”
“You mean, George is…”
“I’m not saying anything but I wouldn’t be surprised if you two weren’t on the same team and all that rot,” Ron grinned. “Guess they’re not identical twins after all since Fred definitely likes the ladies.”
“I never would have guessed about George.”
“Between us, mate. He’s not wanting to tell everyone so I respect that,” Ron said seriously. Lying back on the bed, he linked his hands behind his head and looked at Neville. “So what’s it like kissing another guy?”
“I’d imagine it’s the same as kissing a girl,” Neville decided, still reeling from the knowledge that George Weasley might fancy blokes, too.
“I snogged Hermione a couple of times last year when we were dating. It was okay.” Blue eyes suddenly focused on Neville. “Can I kiss you?”
“What?” Neville coughed, his face turning bright red again as Ron grinned at him.
“C’mon, Neville. You let Goldstein suck your prick. Least you can do is give me a kiss. I wanna know if it’s different than snogging a girl,” Ron teased.
Before Neville could say anything, he found himself lying back on his bed, wet lips moving against his. He groaned when he felt a hand tentatively moving down his chest before cupping his cock, which was stirring against his trousers. He kissed Ron back, their tongues stroking each other as the kiss deepened. When Ron pulled back, Neville just stared at him.
“Well.” Ron licked his lips, his body still pressing against Neville’s as he grew thoughtful. “That was nice. Wasn‘t it?”
“Yes,” Neville admitted softly.
“I think you’d better tell Goldstein that you’re finished shagging him,” Ron said before leaning over and kissing him again.