That Time of the Month (R)
Title: That Time of the Month
Rating: R
Summary: Ron learns boyfriends have different conversations than boys who are friends
Ron slowly slide his hand under the hem of Hermione's pyjama top, amazed as always at the softness of her skin. His hand almost spanned the entire width of her slight torso, his long fingers skimming the underside of her bare breasts.
Hermione sighed and hooked her leg around his hip, grinding her body against his. Ron took this as a sign to continue his exploration of her body. He pushed her shirt higher, groaning loudly at the sight of her nakedness.
Hermione ran her fingers through Ron's hair, gently guiding his mouth where she craved it. He placed teasingly light kisses around one breast, his slightly stubbled jaw brushing ever-so-slightly against her hardened nipple. Ron massaged Hermione's other breast with increasing roughness, rolling and tugging the stiff peak like Hermione told him she liked.
"Ouch," Hermione suddenly hissed.
"Sorry!" Ron quickly sat up, raising his hands in the air as if to indicate surrender.
"It's all right." Hermione sat up and smoothed Ron's mussed hair in an effort to reassure him. "They're, uh ... just a bit sore," she said as she pulled her top down over her exposed breasts.
"Why didn't you tell me I hurt you?" Ron asked, his voice verging on the edge of panic.
"You didn't hurt me." Hermione rested her hand against his flushed cheek. "My breasts are always tender when it's, um… 'that time of the month'."
Ron jumped back, banging his head against the metal frame of his bed. "You mean, it's 'that time' now?"
"You needn't sound so disgusted," Hermione huffed. "It's not as if it's contagious."
"I'm not disgusted! I'm just surprised, is all."
"Surprised?" she asked incredulously. "I thought we'd already established a few years ago that I AM a girl!"
"I fucking know you're a girl, Hermione - I have had my hand down your knickers afterall." He waved a hand vaguely toward Hermione's abdomen. "You never talked about stuff like that before, that's what surprised me. I mean, we've practically lived in each other's pockets for years now and this is the first time you ever mentioned anything about your ... monthly."
"What was I supposed to do? Help you with your Transfiguration essay then ask you to rub my back because I had cramps? That's not exactly something you talk about with boy who's your friend."
"But you talk about it with a boyfriend?" Ron moved closer and took Hermione's hand in his, rubbing his thumb in circles over her skin.
"I guess so," she said softly.
"Would it have helped? A back rub, I mean." Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and drew her tight against him. "'Cause I could do that for you," he offered.
"That would be nice." Hermione leaned up and kissed along the underside of Ron's jaw. "I actually feel fine right now…"
Pushing Ron onto his back, Hermione laid her body on top of him. Pushing his shirt up, she trailed open mouth kisses across his abdomen and up his chest. "Why don't we see how sensitive you are?" she proposed, raking her nails over his nipples.
Rating: R
Summary: Ron learns boyfriends have different conversations than boys who are friends
Ron slowly slide his hand under the hem of Hermione's pyjama top, amazed as always at the softness of her skin. His hand almost spanned the entire width of her slight torso, his long fingers skimming the underside of her bare breasts.
Hermione sighed and hooked her leg around his hip, grinding her body against his. Ron took this as a sign to continue his exploration of her body. He pushed her shirt higher, groaning loudly at the sight of her nakedness.
Hermione ran her fingers through Ron's hair, gently guiding his mouth where she craved it. He placed teasingly light kisses around one breast, his slightly stubbled jaw brushing ever-so-slightly against her hardened nipple. Ron massaged Hermione's other breast with increasing roughness, rolling and tugging the stiff peak like Hermione told him she liked.
"Ouch," Hermione suddenly hissed.
"Sorry!" Ron quickly sat up, raising his hands in the air as if to indicate surrender.
"It's all right." Hermione sat up and smoothed Ron's mussed hair in an effort to reassure him. "They're, uh ... just a bit sore," she said as she pulled her top down over her exposed breasts.
"Why didn't you tell me I hurt you?" Ron asked, his voice verging on the edge of panic.
"You didn't hurt me." Hermione rested her hand against his flushed cheek. "My breasts are always tender when it's, um… 'that time of the month'."
Ron jumped back, banging his head against the metal frame of his bed. "You mean, it's 'that time' now?"
"You needn't sound so disgusted," Hermione huffed. "It's not as if it's contagious."
"I'm not disgusted! I'm just surprised, is all."
"Surprised?" she asked incredulously. "I thought we'd already established a few years ago that I AM a girl!"
"I fucking know you're a girl, Hermione - I have had my hand down your knickers afterall." He waved a hand vaguely toward Hermione's abdomen. "You never talked about stuff like that before, that's what surprised me. I mean, we've practically lived in each other's pockets for years now and this is the first time you ever mentioned anything about your ... monthly."
"What was I supposed to do? Help you with your Transfiguration essay then ask you to rub my back because I had cramps? That's not exactly something you talk about with boy who's your friend."
"But you talk about it with a boyfriend?" Ron moved closer and took Hermione's hand in his, rubbing his thumb in circles over her skin.
"I guess so," she said softly.
"Would it have helped? A back rub, I mean." Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and drew her tight against him. "'Cause I could do that for you," he offered.
"That would be nice." Hermione leaned up and kissed along the underside of Ron's jaw. "I actually feel fine right now…"
Pushing Ron onto his back, Hermione laid her body on top of him. Pushing his shirt up, she trailed open mouth kisses across his abdomen and up his chest. "Why don't we see how sensitive you are?" she proposed, raking her nails over his nipples.