Title: Quiet
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ron
Word Count: 265
Rating: R for sex
Warnings: angst
Notes: I need to start writing H/R again, so I thought I would start with a few drabbles. I consider this Harry/Ron, but I don't know if it is Harry/Ron enough for
harry_and_ron so for now it is staying here. Many hugs and kisses to
gryffindor_j for the expert beta and to
shes_gone for the final stamp of approval. Has not been Brit-picked!
“Hush, Ron,” Hermione murmurs against his ear, so lightly it makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. “You're making too much noise.”
Ron ignores her and tilts her head back, pressing his nose against the curve of her neck. She smells of tea and parchment - not at all like the perfume he bought for her at Christmas - but underneath it is something crisp and earthy. He weaves his fingers through her hair and inhales deeply.
“We need a larger flat,” she whispers frantically as she pushes her hips up to meet his. They hadn’t bothered to remove her skirt, and now it is riding up between them, brushing against his stomach with every push. “Three people sharing a bathroom is bad enough, but we can’t even…not without--”
He interrupts with a well-angled thrust, and she lets out a surprised gasp that probably goes right through the walls. A moment later, she digs her fingers into his shoulder and arches her back, shuddering silently. He follows with a sigh of relief, his face still buried in the crook of her shoulder.
“I’m serious about the flat,” she tells him as he rolls over, away from her. “We should talk to Harry about this. I’m sure he would agree.”
Ron hums his assent, closing his eyes to feign sleepiness. She continues talking, about working up a budget and cutting down on unnecessary spending, but he's not listening. He can still smell that scent on his skin - strong and clean, like laundry and pine trees.
He really wishes Hermione would stop using Harry's soap.