Brotherly Love



"Don't do this to me, Harry."

"Do what, Ron?" Harry was brushing his hair in front of the bedroom mirror, wearing only a small towel. His hips were swaying to the music that was playing from a small radio on the dresser. Ron was lying on his stomach on one of the two beds in the room that they shared. After watching Harry for the past ten minutes, Ron was now sporting a painful erection. He hadn't meant to speak out loud, but his brain wasn't exactly getting enough oxygen at the moment.

"Never mind. Forget I said anything." Ron turned his attention back to the magazine he was idly flipping through. Harry shrugged and turned back to the mirror. Done with his hair, he began meticulously applying eyeliner. He wanted to look just right, no, perfect! He had his eye on someone, someone special, and he was hell bent on catching that very night. Come hell or high water, pirates or outlaws.

He will be mine! Harry thought as he put down the eyeliner and picked up the mascara. His hand trembled as he brought the brush close to his eyelashes.

"Damnit!" He tossed the brush down on the counter. He grabbed a tissue and began wiping the smudge off his cheek the mascara left.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, getting up from the bed.

"This damn robotic arm! It's acting up again! I can't even finish my makeup!" He leaned on counter, his eyes tearing up. "Damnit."

"Here, I'll do it." Ron said, picking up the mascara. Harry blinked back his tears as Ron lifted his chin. "Now hold still."

"Since when do you know how to apply makeup?" Harry asked, as Ron applied the mascara to his little brother's eyelashes.

"I used to help Mom when her hands shook too much to do it herself. Look up."

"How come you never told me?" Harry never really knew their mother. She was hospitalized when he was little and he didn't get to see her much. She died when he was eight.

"Well, it's not something I want to advertise, you know? Not even Father knew." Ron moved to his other eyelashes. Neither of them spoke for a while, the current subject a difficult one.

"There. All done." Ron handed the mascara to Harry. "Anything else?"

"No, I think I can handle the rest. Thanks." Harry smiled, letting Ron know he wasn't upset. Ron returned to his magazine, leaving Harry to finish his task. Harry looked in the mirror to check Ron's handiwork.

Not bad. I should have him do my makeup more often! Harry smiled crookedly at his reflection, a glint in his eyes. Now for the right lip color. Wait a minute, what am I wearing tonight? Harry walked over to the closet and began rummaging through his things. He began tossing various articles of clothing on his bed for further deliberation. Ron watched him out of the corner of his eye, his breathe catching whenever Harry bent over in that little towel.

"What do you think?" Ron looked up.

"What?" Harry sighed, mentally questioning his brother's attention span.

"I said, what do you think? The boots," he held up a pair of black latex, thigh-high boots with two inch heels, "or the heels?" he held up a pair of bright pink, spiked, three inch heeled shoes. "Well?" Harry looked at Ron expectantly, who only looked back at him with a quizzical expression on his face. After all, what did he know about fashion?

"Um, I don't know, the heels?" Ron figured they'd be easier to get off than the boots. Plus Harry had great legs.

"You think so?" Harry said as he looked at the heels.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Ron went back to flipping through his magazine, again. Harry smiled and put the boots back in the closet. Now he just had to find something to match his shoes. After much debating, he decided on a purple poets shirt that complimented his hair and a spandex miniskirt the same shade as his shoes.

"Hmm . . . Hey, Ron."

"What now?" Ron said, not bothering to look up, though he wanted to.

"Stockings?"

"Uh, no."

"Underwear?" Ron looked at his little brother as if he had sprouted a third eye.

"You're asking me if you should wear underwear?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't be silly! Of course I'm going to put on underwear! I just want your opinion on what kind, is all."

"Well, that depends on what you're planning to do, and that means I can't help you there." Ron turned back to his magazine, which was starting to fall apart from his constant page turning. "But if you're going to wear a miniskirt, I suggest you wear something with a crotch." Harry blushed.

"What makes you think I even have crotch-less underwear?" Harry said defensively.

"I've seen your laundry, Harry. Hell, half the time, I'm the one doing your laundry!" Ron still hadn't looked up. Harry blushed a bright red

"Oh, right. Well, for your information, I wouldn't do something like that! I have more sense than that." Harry said as he began to go through his undergarments.

"Thong or g-string?" Ron rolled up his magazine and tossed it at Harry. "Alright, alright! I'll figure it out myself!" he said, ducking. Ron rolled onto his back, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Harry settled on a zebra striped g-string. With his back to Ron, he took off the towel and put it on. He then slipped the shirt on, careful not to smudge his makeup. Ron watched as he pulled his hair out from under the shirt, but turned away before Harry saw him. Harry slipped on the miniskirt, tucking in the shirt tails. He pulled the shirt up so the tails wouldn't show beneath the skirt's hem, and to make the shirt 'poof' out. He then sat on the edge of his bed and put on his shoes. After checking his nails quickly to see if they needed a touch up, he walked back over to the counter and mirror and began going through his makeup looking for the right shade to apply to his lips. He lined them with a dark pink lip-liner and used a slightly lighter shade of lipstick. His makeup done, he selected a satin ribbon that matched his outfit, and tied his hair back in a loose ponytail. He pulled loose a few strands around his face, curling them around his finger, along with his bangs. Satisfied with the results, he walked over to Ron.

"Well?" Harry asked expectantly, hoping for his approval. Ron sat up on his elbows and looked Harry over.

"Turn around." Harry did just that, moving fluidly even in the heels. "You need to pull your shirt up a little in the back, but other than that, you look fine."

"Thanks!" Harry said as he adjusted his shirt. "How's that?"

"Fine."

"Should I change my nail polish?" he asked, looking at his nails, which were the same color as his hair at the moment.

"They're fine! Let's just go, already!" Ron said, getting up.

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

"What's wrong with this? I always wear this!"

"My point exactly! Come on, Ron! It won't hurt ya to wear something different for a change!" Harry said, dragging Ron towards the closet.

"I'm not sure of this, Harry." Ron complained.

"Don't be silly! Here, try these on." Harry handed him a pair of black leather pants and a red tank top.

"Harry . . ."

"Put them on, or else!" Ron sighed, giving in. The tank top was too small, but still wearable. The pants, however, were too tight.

"Harry, I can't were these, they're too small!" he tossed them back at Harry.

"Hmm . . . Try these." he handed Ron a pair of black jean cutoffs. They fit, but just barely. They hugged his every curve flatteringly. And they were really short.

"Aren't these a bit too short?" Ron said as he inspected his visage in the mirror.

"Nope! And I have the perfect jacket to complete the outfit!" Harry pulling out a waist length leather jacket from the closet and gave it to Ron. He put it on and looked in the mirror. A lock of hair had fallen into his face. He was about to put it back, but Harry stopped him.

"No, don't! That's perfect! You look great!" Harry exclaimed.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, let's go!" Harry said, heading for the door, dragging Ron behind him.