Tangerine
Ron watches as Harry picks up the tangerine, tossing it once before he reaches for the
strange little Muggle tool for peeling oranges. Ron's never caught the name of the gadget,
useful though it is if you don't want to deal with gouged nails or pulped fruit from spells
gone awry. Hermione would know the name, but he shuts that thought down as fast as it comes.
Harry carefully guides the molded plastic along the sharp arc of the tangerine, his hand
sliding off the peel once or twice. They're both used to oranges, with the gently sloping
curve that lends itself to the tool. But the tangerines were on sale, and Harry is swift
enough to figure out the difference.
Ron steps forward, reaching through Harry's arms to clasp him loosely about the chest. His hands
keep wanting to slip off of nonexistent curves, but he retrains them to stroke the hard muscle
instead. Harry turns in his arms, slips him a kiss and then a slice of tangerine.
It's not the same as an orange, but it tastes just as sweet.