His lips were warm as they pressed down the side of her neck, soft and hesitant kisses drawing a line down to her collarbone. Each spot against which Ron pressed his lips seemed to heat directly under the skin, the flush rising all the way to her cheeks; although she was still clothed, Hermione knew well that her thin camisole left very little to the imagination, and no matter how comfortable she was around her best friends, this was still a territory that she had barely begun exploring with Ron, and insecurities rose quickly to the surface, riddling her awareness and keeping her movements tentative, slightly unsure. (But make no mistake- she felt safe just being in his presence, from his warmth, without which sleeping had become a difficult task anymore.)
With Ron otherwise occupied, Hermione hesitantly pulled her foot back, dragging it along the sheets until her thigh, bare where her soft cotton shorts had hiked up with the movement, pressed against Ron's hip. Every small step she took- nails lightly dragging down along his spine, a thumb hooking inside the waistline of his trousers- sent her heart hammering even more strongly against her chest, until she heard it clashing with her staggered breath, each only coming as she reminded herself to break for air.
"Ron," she repeated again, hips rising off the mattress to close the space between the two of them. There were questions swirling in her mind, cacophonic, not a single one pulling away from the rest, not a single one easy to ask right then. Instead, she slid down just enough to guide him back down, her hand curled around his neck as she kissed him again, a soft noise muffled in the back of her throat.
Were Ron's mouth not occupied with kissing her, he might've said Hermione's name as well. As it was, she'd brought the two of them back into another kiss, covered his mouth with hers again, and all he could manage was a sort of low and pleased groan deep in his throat.
Every bit of him that she touched felt bloody amazing and Ron felt warm in a pleasant way that made him want more of it all. Of course, there was the question of just what "more" meant. She'd hooked a finger into the waist of his trousers... was that supposed to mean something? There wasn't exactly a good time to ask, not with how brilliant all of it was, not with how much he was trying not to muck any of this up. It wasn't as if he'd ever done any of this before-- except the snogging bits, of course-- so a lot of it was just guesswork, trying to work out what he'd done right from Hermione's reactions. Still, even the way he had his hand on her was careful. He really didn't want to muck this up, especially not if this was going to go where he thought it might be going.
As it was, when she arched her hips up into him, he found himself twisting a bit awkwardly, trying to be sure she didn't notice the evidence that a great deal of his blood had rushed from his head and settled in other places entirely.
The sheets were rucked under Hermione's thigh, the folds pressing against her skin, and somehow, it mattered. Hermione's hand desperately smoothed out the rumpled sheets, as though working towards perfection on every level as her lips continued to seek Ron's out, her tongue brushing along his lower lip, her voice soft and caught in her throat as she did her best to keep calm. Inevitably, the effort was futile, and even as Ron tried to turn away from the contact, Hermione's hands immediately traveled to the front of his trousers, slipping the button deftly and pulling down the zipper until she was able to coax his trousers down so that they hung loosely about his hips. Where caution might have otherwise been, adrenaline had Hermione's heart beating on high and her reservations torn to shreds as she gasped again, breaking the kiss suddenly as her fingers teased under his waistband, feeling his heated skin and feeling that hers could only be more so, every limb of her body feeling warm, almost uncomfortably so. Movements coming to a halt, Hermione only breathed heavily as her fingers wove through Ron's hair, her gaze blurred and aimed at some indistinct point in the distance as her hips stopped moving, long enough for Hermione to regain her composure.
"It's okay," she murmured, the words carried by a breath as Hermione's fingers slipped under Ron's trousers, immediately forcing her to bite back a bewildered laugh as they eased his waistline down just a touch further. Slowly enough that he could keep up. Quickly enough that she wouldn't be forced to overanalyze every last detail. Her free hand slipped down to her hip, brushing over the bone there before briefly brushing against her inner thigh, her eyes slightly clouded over as she blinked them open again, giving way to sensation rather than analyzing every last detail. Perhaps she was going too fast. Perhaps she wasn't considering all of the details at hand. But if there was anything Hermione knew, it was that she was ready for the next step.
If he was.
"Do you have..." Hermione breathed, feeling her face grow warm at the question, knowing full well how forward she was being. "A- you know."
Ron hadn't really known what to expect going into all this-- bloody hell, he hadn't expected any of this, really-- but Hermione suddenly opening up his trousers without much warning at all. Not that he wished she hadn't or anything mental like that, he just wouldn't have thought she'd be the one to press onward, with him doing his best to make sure he wasn't rushing her. But her hand was in his hair and on his trousers, so he reckoned it wasn't anything he needed to worry about much anymore.
Ron didn't realise that he'd started pressing his hips into her, breath growing a bit ragged as he struggled to think straight until she spoke.
"Have what?" Ron asked, his brain not working properly enough to work out what she'd meant at first. Was he supposed to have brought something along? After a few moments of feeling like an absolute pillock, it clicked. "Oh, right. Yeah, I've got..."
He and Bill had talked only a few days before and his brother had give him a few of the odd Muggle things and had explained what they were for. He'd thought it was a bit dodgy at first, but without magic, it was the only way, really. Ron sat up a bit to fumble through his pockets for one, offering a nervous smile once he procured one from the back pocket of his trousers.
In truth, Hermione hadn't expected Ron to be able to produce a condom that evening, and at best she felt that perhaps he or Harry had decided to store some in one of the dresser drawers, but when Ron produced one from his pocket, her eyes widened in surprise. Perhaps she should have been distraught, and certainly the tension suddenly returned, Hermione feeling as though all of the air had left her lungs, but she managed a soft laugh, more nervous than anything else. Her hands rested on Ron's hips, almost encouraging as she quickly leaned forward to press her lips against the side of his neck in an open-mouthed kiss, teasing his skin lightly between her teeth.
"I can't believe you had- oh, never mind," she breathed, sitting up a bit as well as she continued to wrap her hand around his neck, feeling almost as though the only way to keep her nerves from taking over was outrunning them entirely. She kissed him again, her lips slipping to the corner of his mouth as her hand ran along his lower arm, tracing it lightly until she could gently slip the package out from between his fingers, dropping it on their sheets. Weaving her fingers with his, Hermione slowly guided his hand until it rested in her hip, under the hem of her shirt. Breaking the kiss, Hermione's forehead rested against Ron's, her words slipping over his lips in a whisper. "Is this too fast?"
"Yeah... er... Bill gave me some the other day... I guess I never took that one out of my pocket," Ron said, suddenly sheepish that he'd had one on him. He definitely hadn't been anticipating this happening or anything, but it'd been a good thing that he did have one, hadn't it? But Hermione'd looked surprised like maybe he wasn't supposed to at all.
His mouth twisted into a small frown for a moment until she kissed him again, and he was sure he wasn't about to get she wasn't about to shout at him for it.
Ron's hand flexed against her hip as they leaned against each other, and ran it slowly up her side until it rested on her ribs. He couldn't help but kiss her again, briefly, before he answered her. It was ruddy difficult to be this close to her and to not be kissing her. Merlin, but she smelled amazing.
"I don't think so," he said, voice low, but a bit more gruff than usual. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head subtly. "If-- if you don't think it is, I mean."
She steadfastly blocked out all thoughts of Bill handing the proper tools over to Ron for this moment- after all, no doubt the bequeathing would have had been accompanied by an explanation of how to properly go about it all, and imagining anyone providing instruction for their evening or, worse yet, raising expectations overly high, was not something Hermione wanted to preoccupy herself with. Fortunately, the feel of Ron's hand lightly grazing up her side, warm and gentle all at once, distracted Hermione remarkably well as she let out a small hum, one soon interrupted by a kiss that she couldn't help but smile against.
Shaking her head just a touch, not wanting to stop kissing him for any longer than she had to, Hermione took a couple of breaths to steel her nerves before she leaned in for a peck. "No, I don't think so either."
Her lips brushed against his cheek as she silently said those three words again, trying to keep the smile which threatened from bursting and ruining the intimacy of the moment. I love you, she mouthed, pressing her lips against the line of his jaw, scarcely able to think beyond how much she wanted this. Couldn't imagine any way in which she wouldn't. Couldn't imagine ever wanting to be anything but that close, that safe, or that loved.
As quickly as Ron had mentioned his brother's name, he'd forgotten that he had, more focused on the subject at hand; on Hermione's mouth on his cheek and then on his jaw line... bloody hell. None of this had felt as if it was happening too quickly, though it all had been a bit unexpected, so much happening all at once. Sort of like jumping straight from turning mice into snuffboxes to transfiguring owls. Somehow though, Ron felt like Hermione might actually have been better at all this, but he was likely biased in the moment.
His hand underneath Hermione's shirt twitched a moment as he hesitated, and in a bit of a nervous motion, he pulled her shirt up and over her head. If nothing else had been happening too fast, he hoped this wasn't either; every second they touched left him wanting more, his heart beating so loudly that it made him wonder if she could hear it too.
In reality, it only took a couple of seconds, but to Hermione, the feel of fabric brushing up along her arms felt like an eternity. Static snapped in her curls of hair. Her heart continued to beat, not quite as steadily as a drum, Hermione's face lighting up with embarrassment as she closed her eyes, not quite able to open them for fear of seeing a disappointed expression on Ron's face, perhaps. It had never really mattered to her before, the way that she looked in the nude. Hermione hardly put much effort towards her appearance at all on the best of days. And yet suddenly, it mattered now, it mattered so much that it scared her, extending seconds into minutes, then hours, Hermione shivering as she waited for reassurance that she wasn't sure would come.
Chest still rising and falling, one of Hermione's hands curled nervously over her opposite shoulder, her arm blocking her chest partially from view.
"If I knew we were going to- I would have-" Hermione stammered, words a mere whisper as she bit her lower lip, thoughts going unfinished.
This had been unexpected for both of them, so it wasn't like there was any way she could have known. Ron definitely hadn't. Though, for a moment, he was stuck there, trying to keep his eyes from going a bit wide in amazement. He'd reckoned that maybe one day they'd get to this point-- or at least he'd hoped they would-- but the reality of it all was loads better than just thinking about it.
Not that Ron had thought about it. Not really.
He ran his hand down her arm from shoulder to her elbow, her skin both warm and soft underneath his fingers. In some ways, so much of this was different right now, even if he'd touched Hermione's arm loads of times. But this was new in so many ways, the most obvious being that the two of them were on her mattress and only half-dressed. It was... well, it was bloody brilliant, if Ron was honest about it.
"Hermione, you're... you're amazing," he said, not able to hide the smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss her again. There wasn't really much else to say, at least, not that he could think of at the moment. He couldn't think of any reason why she might be embarrassed; Ron was pretty confident that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
They'd kissed hundreds of times already, and dozens even in the past hour alone- yet Hermione could not remember any of the kisses feeling quite like this. Her heart continued to beat, leaping with every touch, every brush of skin against skin, until it took residence in her throat and left her unable to speak, managing only the softest of sighs and a moan that she did her best to hold back. For Hermione, comfort so often only came in the form of control, but everything about this situation was anything but. It was new territory. Learning that couldn't be done distantly, couldn't be found passively, and instead required her to run her fingers again over his chest, breaking the kiss until she could shift over on the sheets until she straddled Ron, thighs resting on either side of his hips, hair sliding over a shoulder as she leaned closer to kiss him again, trailing the kisses over the side of his neck until she could arch her back, press their bodies flush together.
And suddenly she felt his heart too, his warmth, and the shock of it left her threading her fingers desperately through his hair as her cheek pressed against the soft waves of his hair. "God," she breathed, pressing her lips against his ear. "I love you. So much." A smile stretched across her face, tentative as she shifted, rolled her hips just a touch until she was practically sitting on his lap, her fingers dragging down the planes of his muscle until they started tugging lightly at his waistband.
Her breath shook as she tried to kiss him again, attempted to distract him from the shake of her fingers as they traced over his abdomen, along the fine fringe of hair that trailed down from his navel.
She pressed her body against his again and it was all Ron could do to focus on anything but the feel of their two bodies together, of her bare skin against his. Bloody hell, how was he supposed to think straight at all with the two of them like this?
"I love you," he said, voice a deep and low whisper, half a gasp as he tried to focus enough to form a full sentence. As it was, the statement was punctuated by a moan that he tried to hold back, worried that the sounds he was making were ridiculous. Still, all of it felt so bloody brilliant that it was difficult not to make noise every time she touched him, every time she kissed him, every time he felt her warm skin brush and press against his.
Even through their kiss, he felt her fingers on him, brushing lightly in places that made him shiver, and realized she'd been playing with his waistband again. That was the next bit, wasn't it? She'd gone, and now it was his turn, even if the idea of it had his heart pounding in his ears even louder than before. He looked up at Hermione, practically on his lap, and broke their kiss temporarily to offer her a nervous, yet hopeful smile.
"Here, what if I...?" Ron said, not finishing his sentence, and instead covered Hermione's hand with his own for a moment before he tugged at his waistband as well. He paused, feeling his face flush and grow hot, and suddenly he realized why Hermione had been embarrassed not moments before. His own hands shaking a bit, he pulled down his already unbuttoned trousers, then his pants underneath them. Already, he felt his face grow hot and flush all over again. What if he'd gone too fast? What if she laughed?
Hermione fought hard to fight her immediate impulse, which was the same one that had existed since the three of them began their friendship back in first year- the urge to laugh. Knowing full well that Ron probably wouldn't react well, Hermione bit her lower lip, feeling her entire face light up. Apparently, she had not through the process through well enough, unable to decide where etiquette dictated that she ought look. Was it better to maintain eye contact? Or was she supposed to work more with her hands, be attentive to his- their?- needs? Closing her eyes, Hermione rubbed her cheek briefly with the heel of her palm.
"I don't know what I should- I..." Hermione huffed a helpless exhale, trying to fight the way that her pulse continued to drum in her ears, making her aware of every moment, every step that she took. Peering down at her shorts, she supposed that the next step was to remove those as well, that if there was to be any embarrassment, there was no harm in it being mutual. Leaning forward quickly to capture Ron's lips in another kiss, Hermione ran her tongue nervously over her lip before she shifted back on the bed, raising herself to her knees before she tugged both shorts and briefs down with trembling fingers. Only after she kicked them away did Hermione sit back down and meet Ron's gaze again.
At which point she finally caved, letting out a single giggle.
Apparently that was enough to send her over the edge, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as she tried to hide the laughter under a hand. "I'm sorry," she apologized, trying to catch her breath. "Oh, Ron, I'm sorry, but I'm so nervous that I can hardly..."
Shaking her head as she gave up on giving an explanation at all, Hermione leaned in to kiss Ron again, hoping that they could ease back into some level of comfort.
For a moment, Ron's face was one of near mortification; he'd been worried that Hermione'd do exactly what she'd done. Suddenly, he was back on the Quidditch pitch, a group of Slytherins singing that bloody song at him while he let goal after goal go past him. Somehow he'd mucked this up before they'd even really done it. He frowned, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
The moment was thankfully short-lived when she kissed him again, smiling against his mouth as he felt his sudden nervousness subside a bit. It'd taken him a second to realize that she wasn't actually laughing at him. He felt like a complete and utter pillock again for having immediately expected the worst, then relieved, then glad again once he realized once more just what was about to happen.
It was more than a teaspoon's worth of emotions to feel at once, that was for sure.
"It's not funny, Hermione," Ron said pulling out of their kiss for a moment before his own resolve broke and he found himself laughing as well. "You're not supposed to laugh."
It was probably a moot statement at this point, as he was finding it difficult to keep a straight face even then.
Trying to keep her face as steady as possible, which was difficult considering the flush that she felt spreading down to her neck, Hermione pressed her lips together and cleared her throat. "Ron," she said, aiming for a serious tone, although the fact that she couldn't seem to make eye contact with Ron at all diluted the effect. "The both of us have just, in front of each other, taken our pants off. Which... I don't know about you, but I can't remember the last time I've done that in front of another person, and certainly not for this. So... I think laughing's the only thing to do." Biting down on her lower lip once more, Hermione pressed a peck against Ron's lips before dissolving into giggles again, reaching over for the condom packet before sliding over to the head of the bed again and laying on her side.
Trying her best to avoid the temptation to shake the little square of plastic in the air, Hermione lightly patted the spot next to her. Arching her brow invitingly, Hermione raised her chin just a touch, her tone airy. "But if you think I'm not supposed to laugh, by all means." She smiled shyly, her shoulder raising as she felt her pulse quicken again. "Stop me."
Her smile faded, Hermione finally slowing enough to get a better look at Ron, finding herself at once tempted to look away and yet unable to in the least.
That was easy enough for her to say when she'd left him laughing so hard that his cheeks hurt. He didn't think there'd ever been a time he'd taken his pants off in front of anyone either, and now that she'd brought up just how mad all of this really was, his nervousness had bubbled up as laughter as well. And the way she'd started going on, Ron half expected Hermione to start quoting passages from Hogwarts: A History, though somehow he doubted there were any chapters on this in that bloody book.
"You're mental," he said, with a huff of a laugh as he moved to the head of the bed to lie down next to her again, not entirely sure whether or not he was supposed to keep his eyes above her shoulders or whether he was allowed to actually look. He managed a quick glance again before he felt his face grow hot all over again. Maybe the best thing to do was to just dive in again, to push past the nerves and the laughter. Only, when he leaned in to kiss her again, cupping her with one hand before he lost the nerve to give it a go, he found himself breaking into a chuckle all over again.
With Ron otherwise occupied, Hermione hesitantly pulled her foot back, dragging it along the sheets until her thigh, bare where her soft cotton shorts had hiked up with the movement, pressed against Ron's hip. Every small step she took- nails lightly dragging down along his spine, a thumb hooking inside the waistline of his trousers- sent her heart hammering even more strongly against her chest, until she heard it clashing with her staggered breath, each only coming as she reminded herself to break for air.
"Ron," she repeated again, hips rising off the mattress to close the space between the two of them. There were questions swirling in her mind, cacophonic, not a single one pulling away from the rest, not a single one easy to ask right then. Instead, she slid down just enough to guide him back down, her hand curled around his neck as she kissed him again, a soft noise muffled in the back of her throat.
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Every bit of him that she touched felt bloody amazing and Ron felt warm in a pleasant way that made him want more of it all. Of course, there was the question of just what "more" meant. She'd hooked a finger into the waist of his trousers... was that supposed to mean something? There wasn't exactly a good time to ask, not with how brilliant all of it was, not with how much he was trying not to muck any of this up. It wasn't as if he'd ever done any of this before-- except the snogging bits, of course-- so a lot of it was just guesswork, trying to work out what he'd done right from Hermione's reactions. Still, even the way he had his hand on her was careful. He really didn't want to muck this up, especially not if this was going to go where he thought it might be going.
As it was, when she arched her hips up into him, he found himself twisting a bit awkwardly, trying to be sure she didn't notice the evidence that a great deal of his blood had rushed from his head and settled in other places entirely.
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"It's okay," she murmured, the words carried by a breath as Hermione's fingers slipped under Ron's trousers, immediately forcing her to bite back a bewildered laugh as they eased his waistline down just a touch further. Slowly enough that he could keep up. Quickly enough that she wouldn't be forced to overanalyze every last detail. Her free hand slipped down to her hip, brushing over the bone there before briefly brushing against her inner thigh, her eyes slightly clouded over as she blinked them open again, giving way to sensation rather than analyzing every last detail. Perhaps she was going too fast. Perhaps she wasn't considering all of the details at hand. But if there was anything Hermione knew, it was that she was ready for the next step.
If he was.
"Do you have..." Hermione breathed, feeling her face grow warm at the question, knowing full well how forward she was being. "A- you know."
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Ron didn't realise that he'd started pressing his hips into her, breath growing a bit ragged as he struggled to think straight until she spoke.
"Have what?" Ron asked, his brain not working properly enough to work out what she'd meant at first. Was he supposed to have brought something along? After a few moments of feeling like an absolute pillock, it clicked. "Oh, right. Yeah, I've got..."
He and Bill had talked only a few days before and his brother had give him a few of the odd Muggle things and had explained what they were for. He'd thought it was a bit dodgy at first, but without magic, it was the only way, really. Ron sat up a bit to fumble through his pockets for one, offering a nervous smile once he procured one from the back pocket of his trousers.
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"I can't believe you had- oh, never mind," she breathed, sitting up a bit as well as she continued to wrap her hand around his neck, feeling almost as though the only way to keep her nerves from taking over was outrunning them entirely. She kissed him again, her lips slipping to the corner of his mouth as her hand ran along his lower arm, tracing it lightly until she could gently slip the package out from between his fingers, dropping it on their sheets. Weaving her fingers with his, Hermione slowly guided his hand until it rested in her hip, under the hem of her shirt. Breaking the kiss, Hermione's forehead rested against Ron's, her words slipping over his lips in a whisper. "Is this too fast?"
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His mouth twisted into a small frown for a moment until she kissed him again, and he was sure he wasn't about to get she wasn't about to shout at him for it.
Ron's hand flexed against her hip as they leaned against each other, and ran it slowly up her side until it rested on her ribs. He couldn't help but kiss her again, briefly, before he answered her. It was ruddy difficult to be this close to her and to not be kissing her. Merlin, but she smelled amazing.
"I don't think so," he said, voice low, but a bit more gruff than usual. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head subtly. "If-- if you don't think it is, I mean."
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Shaking her head just a touch, not wanting to stop kissing him for any longer than she had to, Hermione took a couple of breaths to steel her nerves before she leaned in for a peck. "No, I don't think so either."
Her lips brushed against his cheek as she silently said those three words again, trying to keep the smile which threatened from bursting and ruining the intimacy of the moment. I love you, she mouthed, pressing her lips against the line of his jaw, scarcely able to think beyond how much she wanted this. Couldn't imagine any way in which she wouldn't. Couldn't imagine ever wanting to be anything but that close, that safe, or that loved.
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His hand underneath Hermione's shirt twitched a moment as he hesitated, and in a bit of a nervous motion, he pulled her shirt up and over her head. If nothing else had been happening too fast, he hoped this wasn't either; every second they touched left him wanting more, his heart beating so loudly that it made him wonder if she could hear it too.
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Chest still rising and falling, one of Hermione's hands curled nervously over her opposite shoulder, her arm blocking her chest partially from view.
"If I knew we were going to- I would have-" Hermione stammered, words a mere whisper as she bit her lower lip, thoughts going unfinished.
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Not that Ron had thought about it. Not really.
He ran his hand down her arm from shoulder to her elbow, her skin both warm and soft underneath his fingers. In some ways, so much of this was different right now, even if he'd touched Hermione's arm loads of times. But this was new in so many ways, the most obvious being that the two of them were on her mattress and only half-dressed. It was... well, it was bloody brilliant, if Ron was honest about it.
"Hermione, you're... you're amazing," he said, not able to hide the smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss her again. There wasn't really much else to say, at least, not that he could think of at the moment. He couldn't think of any reason why she might be embarrassed; Ron was pretty confident that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
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And suddenly she felt his heart too, his warmth, and the shock of it left her threading her fingers desperately through his hair as her cheek pressed against the soft waves of his hair. "God," she breathed, pressing her lips against his ear. "I love you. So much." A smile stretched across her face, tentative as she shifted, rolled her hips just a touch until she was practically sitting on his lap, her fingers dragging down the planes of his muscle until they started tugging lightly at his waistband.
Her breath shook as she tried to kiss him again, attempted to distract him from the shake of her fingers as they traced over his abdomen, along the fine fringe of hair that trailed down from his navel.
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"I love you," he said, voice a deep and low whisper, half a gasp as he tried to focus enough to form a full sentence. As it was, the statement was punctuated by a moan that he tried to hold back, worried that the sounds he was making were ridiculous. Still, all of it felt so bloody brilliant that it was difficult not to make noise every time she touched him, every time she kissed him, every time he felt her warm skin brush and press against his.
Even through their kiss, he felt her fingers on him, brushing lightly in places that made him shiver, and realized she'd been playing with his waistband again. That was the next bit, wasn't it? She'd gone, and now it was his turn, even if the idea of it had his heart pounding in his ears even louder than before. He looked up at Hermione, practically on his lap, and broke their kiss temporarily to offer her a nervous, yet hopeful smile.
"Here, what if I...?" Ron said, not finishing his sentence, and instead covered Hermione's hand with his own for a moment before he tugged at his waistband as well. He paused, feeling his face flush and grow hot, and suddenly he realized why Hermione had been embarrassed not moments before. His own hands shaking a bit, he pulled down his already unbuttoned trousers, then his pants underneath them. Already, he felt his face grow hot and flush all over again. What if he'd gone too fast? What if she laughed?
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"I don't know what I should- I..." Hermione huffed a helpless exhale, trying to fight the way that her pulse continued to drum in her ears, making her aware of every moment, every step that she took. Peering down at her shorts, she supposed that the next step was to remove those as well, that if there was to be any embarrassment, there was no harm in it being mutual. Leaning forward quickly to capture Ron's lips in another kiss, Hermione ran her tongue nervously over her lip before she shifted back on the bed, raising herself to her knees before she tugged both shorts and briefs down with trembling fingers. Only after she kicked them away did Hermione sit back down and meet Ron's gaze again.
At which point she finally caved, letting out a single giggle.
Apparently that was enough to send her over the edge, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as she tried to hide the laughter under a hand. "I'm sorry," she apologized, trying to catch her breath. "Oh, Ron, I'm sorry, but I'm so nervous that I can hardly..."
Shaking her head as she gave up on giving an explanation at all, Hermione leaned in to kiss Ron again, hoping that they could ease back into some level of comfort.
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The moment was thankfully short-lived when she kissed him again, smiling against his mouth as he felt his sudden nervousness subside a bit. It'd taken him a second to realize that she wasn't actually laughing at him. He felt like a complete and utter pillock again for having immediately expected the worst, then relieved, then glad again once he realized once more just what was about to happen.
It was more than a teaspoon's worth of emotions to feel at once, that was for sure.
"It's not funny, Hermione," Ron said pulling out of their kiss for a moment before his own resolve broke and he found himself laughing as well. "You're not supposed to laugh."
It was probably a moot statement at this point, as he was finding it difficult to keep a straight face even then.
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Trying her best to avoid the temptation to shake the little square of plastic in the air, Hermione lightly patted the spot next to her. Arching her brow invitingly, Hermione raised her chin just a touch, her tone airy. "But if you think I'm not supposed to laugh, by all means." She smiled shyly, her shoulder raising as she felt her pulse quicken again. "Stop me."
Her smile faded, Hermione finally slowing enough to get a better look at Ron, finding herself at once tempted to look away and yet unable to in the least.
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That was easy enough for her to say when she'd left him laughing so hard that his cheeks hurt. He didn't think there'd ever been a time he'd taken his pants off in front of anyone either, and now that she'd brought up just how mad all of this really was, his nervousness had bubbled up as laughter as well. And the way she'd started going on, Ron half expected Hermione to start quoting passages from Hogwarts: A History, though somehow he doubted there were any chapters on this in that bloody book.
"You're mental," he said, with a huff of a laugh as he moved to the head of the bed to lie down next to her again, not entirely sure whether or not he was supposed to keep his eyes above her shoulders or whether he was allowed to actually look. He managed a quick glance again before he felt his face grow hot all over again. Maybe the best thing to do was to just dive in again, to push past the nerves and the laughter. Only, when he leaned in to kiss her again, cupping her with one hand before he lost the nerve to give it a go, he found himself breaking into a chuckle all over again.
It was contagious, it was.
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