Fic: "Is This The Moment?", HP, Ron/Hermione, PG-13
Not at ALL the first Porn Battle thing I expected to be writing. Guess I still have some residual DH issues to work out! ;).
Title: "Is This The Moment?" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating/Classification: PG-13, Ron/Hermione, first time, romance, mild sexual content, some angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit.
Summary: 600 words. Set a few days after Deathly Hallows (book or movie). Written for Porn Battle XII, with the prompt word of "slow."
"Are you mental?" she asks, sounding so much like *him* that Ron almost wonders if she's taken Polyjuice. Except that would be weird, wouldn't it? Drinking bits of him up before they… "After all this time, you want to go *slow*, Ronald Weasley?"
"Er, yes." He blinks. "To the second, not the first. Though I suppose I'd *have* to be daft to be with you, wouldn't I?" He laughs, and it's a bit hysterical. To be honest, he's really nervous about this whole thing. He never got too far with Lavender, and it's really only ever been Hermione, and she's a little scary, you know? Particularly when she's naked in his old bed in Gryffindor Tower. Yes, she's *naked*. Absolutely nude. All freshly scrubbed skin and freckles on her hips.
Anyone from the House who's still 'round could give the password and tumble in at any second, drunk after the dual tasks of burying the dead and celebrating the victory. The whole idea's just completely mad. But the world nearly ended three days ago, and Voldemort's gone for good and it just seems like the right time to get on with it. Just… slowly. He feels his skin going as red as his hair, and he mutters things that aren't fit for any company but Fred and George.
Just George now.
Hot tears spring to his eyes, and Hermione holds him close until the fit passes. Fifteen minutes of shushes and "I love you"s and her crying, too. Until they're back to being awkward and naked and near shagging. "See? I had it right, then, didn't I? Slow is fine."
"Honestly, Ron." Her sigh is familiar, and sort of comforting. "Do I have to do everything?" Since she's already removed his shirt (by hand) and his trousers (with her wand), that doesn't even have to be answered. But his body pipes up just the same. Yeah, it tells her. Do everything, because I'm quite certain I'm going to cock it all up. Literally.
He kisses her so he doesn't say anything monumentally stupid. Of course, Hermione knows he's a right git and loves him anyway. That's what this is about in the end, isn't it? But he rather likes kissing her, so it's not the wrong choice to make. She tastes like promise and enthusiasm and more than a hint of "I almost lost you." She sets herself across his knees, her thighs on either side of his. More comfortable there than she's ever been on a broom or a thestral. Maybe that's because it's where she's always belonged. "Hermione, I…"
She strokes his hair out of his face, eyes still bright with grief, mouth curved into a trembling smile. "I know you think we've all the time in the world now. But I just want to grasp these moments and hold them tight. Do you understand, Ron? I need you to make it all a blur. Make me forget it all. Everything except you."
In that instant, it all sort of clicks. And he does get it. Loud and clear, like a Howler. He grasps her hips and shifts her so she's sliding right against him. Where she needs and he wants, and there's no arguments about what's to be done. She makes a high, desperate noise and chases it with a "yes" and his name.
It's really only ever been Hermione. And she's a bit scary, but it'll never be anyone else. "What can I say?" he murmurs into the curve of her throat and the rather wonderful slope of her chest. "I've always been a bit slow."
--end--
July 31, 2011
Title: "Is This The Moment?" 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating/Classification: PG-13, Ron/Hermione, first time, romance, mild sexual content, some angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit.
Summary: 600 words. Set a few days after Deathly Hallows (book or movie). Written for Porn Battle XII, with the prompt word of "slow."
"Are you mental?" she asks, sounding so much like *him* that Ron almost wonders if she's taken Polyjuice. Except that would be weird, wouldn't it? Drinking bits of him up before they… "After all this time, you want to go *slow*, Ronald Weasley?"
"Er, yes." He blinks. "To the second, not the first. Though I suppose I'd *have* to be daft to be with you, wouldn't I?" He laughs, and it's a bit hysterical. To be honest, he's really nervous about this whole thing. He never got too far with Lavender, and it's really only ever been Hermione, and she's a little scary, you know? Particularly when she's naked in his old bed in Gryffindor Tower. Yes, she's *naked*. Absolutely nude. All freshly scrubbed skin and freckles on her hips.
Anyone from the House who's still 'round could give the password and tumble in at any second, drunk after the dual tasks of burying the dead and celebrating the victory. The whole idea's just completely mad. But the world nearly ended three days ago, and Voldemort's gone for good and it just seems like the right time to get on with it. Just… slowly. He feels his skin going as red as his hair, and he mutters things that aren't fit for any company but Fred and George.
Just George now.
Hot tears spring to his eyes, and Hermione holds him close until the fit passes. Fifteen minutes of shushes and "I love you"s and her crying, too. Until they're back to being awkward and naked and near shagging. "See? I had it right, then, didn't I? Slow is fine."
"Honestly, Ron." Her sigh is familiar, and sort of comforting. "Do I have to do everything?" Since she's already removed his shirt (by hand) and his trousers (with her wand), that doesn't even have to be answered. But his body pipes up just the same. Yeah, it tells her. Do everything, because I'm quite certain I'm going to cock it all up. Literally.
He kisses her so he doesn't say anything monumentally stupid. Of course, Hermione knows he's a right git and loves him anyway. That's what this is about in the end, isn't it? But he rather likes kissing her, so it's not the wrong choice to make. She tastes like promise and enthusiasm and more than a hint of "I almost lost you." She sets herself across his knees, her thighs on either side of his. More comfortable there than she's ever been on a broom or a thestral. Maybe that's because it's where she's always belonged. "Hermione, I…"
She strokes his hair out of his face, eyes still bright with grief, mouth curved into a trembling smile. "I know you think we've all the time in the world now. But I just want to grasp these moments and hold them tight. Do you understand, Ron? I need you to make it all a blur. Make me forget it all. Everything except you."
In that instant, it all sort of clicks. And he does get it. Loud and clear, like a Howler. He grasps her hips and shifts her so she's sliding right against him. Where she needs and he wants, and there's no arguments about what's to be done. She makes a high, desperate noise and chases it with a "yes" and his name.
It's really only ever been Hermione. And she's a bit scary, but it'll never be anyone else. "What can I say?" he murmurs into the curve of her throat and the rather wonderful slope of her chest. "I've always been a bit slow."
--end--
July 31, 2011