The Whole Damn Fire

Ron had to admit that he might have been a walking storybook, but he wasn’t one to go around showing off his body to just anyone. His tattoos were, for the most part, private. He knew that the roses on his neck, where Blaise’s lips always began, were obvious to everyone, but he kept his chest covered for the most part, and so Blaise was one of the only people who saw them. Even his sleeve was hidden, especially because he had been spending much of his time playing Quidditch lately. Flying that far up in the atmosphere didn’t lend itself to the wardrobe that Ron would need to have in order to show off the artwork.That wasn’t to say that he was embarrassed of his body. In fact, he was quite proud of the way that he currently looked, but he often found himself thinking about peacocks when men paraded around shirtless, and peacocks just made him think of Draco. Draco, the only other man who had seen him shirtless since the war when his body had become more scar tissue than anything else. Draco, who was also decorated with scars.