InsaneJournal

Not Another Homework Planner - R/Hr - NC-17
Title: Not Another Homework Planner
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Words: 2000
Rating: NC-17

Written for aibhinn’s Time Challenge of canon pairings.

I chose Ron/Hermione and March.

Yes, there is smut, but there is also a smidge of plot – hurrah!

Many thanks for the lightning-fast and super-sexy beta by kerryblaze.


Not Another Homework Planner
****
It’s not as if he’d never seen Hermione in bed before.

Sometimes they had been just too far from civilization to find somewhere to stay and Harry had bought a Muggle tent.

They hadn't dared risk a magical one, so Hermione didn’t have her own room.

And there was no way they would've let her sleep alone in another tent.

So they had all crashed in one small tent, in their sleeping bags.

With Harry in the middle.

Ron couldn’t quite separate the need for them to protect Harry from Death Eaters from the need to protect Hermione from his baser instincts.

He had just known it’d be best if he could honestly tell his mum that he didn’t sleep beside her.

At Grimmauld Place or the Three Broomsticks they had two rooms, of course, and Harry had made a point of reaching Hogsmeade on the last day of February.

They had taken two rooms, and their first showers in a fortnight, and spent a wonderful evening in a private room, eating a hot meal and drinking warm butterbeer.

Hermione was curled up in an armchair by the fire, nursing her cup and winding a lock of hair round her finger.

“It’s so good to be clean,” she marvelled. “My hair was disgusting.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Ron warned her, stretching his legs out towards the welcoming warmth of the hearth and running his hands through his own hair, which was now long enough to cause his mother to twitch and reach for her scissors.

Harry looked up from the map they had spread on the floor. “Yeah,” he said. “Birthday treat, Ron, waking up in a warm bed, but we’ll be off again tomorrow. I want to reach Stromness and get into the burial chamber at Maes Howe.”

“I know,” Ron said. “‘A long time ago was a great treasure hidden here. Lucky will be he who can find the great fortune.’ But a warm bed? Best birthday present ever, I reckon.”

Hermione stretched lazily and put down her cup. “I’m going up to bed.” She touched each of them on the shoulder as she passed them and kissed Ron on the cheek. “See you for breakfast,” she murmured.

“Breakfast,” Ron sighed, closing his eyes. “Bacon, eggs, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes – toast, butter, marmalade – coffee, cream.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and left the room.

Harry studied his map for a few more minutes, before poking a dozing Ron in the foot. “Go on, birthday boy,” he said, pointing to his watch, which read midnight. “You’re dropping off.”

“Hmmm,” Ron said, getting to his feet, stretching and rolling his shoulders until they cracked satisfactorily. “You coming up?”

“I’ll be up in a minute,” Harry replied. “I just want to check the ferry timetables; you know Hermione won’t want to fly across Scapa Flow.”

“G’night,” Ron muttered as he left the room.

Horcrux hunting certainly made you appreciate the simple things in life.

Good, hot food. A big, soft, warm bed – Harry had insisted on the best rooms as his birthday present, with huge beds, saying they were all sick of cramped spaces and deserved to sprawl out in double beds for once.

He ambled up the sconce lit stairs and along the passage and opened their door. He admired the merrily flickering fire that warmed the lovely room, kicked off his trainers and, unbuttoning his shirt, wandered over to his bed.

Only to find it occupied.

Hermione’s hair was spread on the pillow, she looked beautifully flushed in the firelight and the blankets were pulled up over her, well, her chest, showing bare arms and shoulders.

He gaped at her.

“Happy Birthday,” she said.

He boggled.

“Ron?” she said, tentatively.

He gawped.

“Say something,” she prompted.

“Harry,” he gasped.

“What about Harry?” she asked, frowning.

“He’ll be here any minute!” he spluttered.

“No, he won’t,” she said, flushing slightly. “He’s sleeping in the single room, tonight.”

Ron whimpered. “You… he knows… you both…”

Hermione huffed at him, tucking the blankets closer to her body. “You are really spoiling the moment, Ron,” she complained.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “I just didn’t expect…” He gestured at the apparently naked girl in his bed.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be here if you expected it of me, now would I?” she asked.

“Um,” he said, trying to work out if the question was a trap.

“Don’t you want me here?” she asked, capturing his still flailing hand.

“Yes,” he almost shouted, and she bit her lip.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Well,” he said. “I thought that’s what we were gonna do. Wait.”

She sighed and shook her head. “For what? Destroying the locket nearly blew us up; tomorrow we are off again, after the cup. I don’t want to wait and one day find it’s too late. I want this. You.”

“Oh, God,” he said.

She tugged on his hand and he lay down, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at her.

“I love you,” he said, brushing a stray curl out of her face.

“I know,” she said. “And I love you.”

“You really want to do this?” he asked, trailing his fingers over her cheek and down her neck, to rest on her collarbone, a relatively innocent position, and one he’d touched before.

She smiled up at him. “I really do.”

“And it’s not just because I’ve got no use for a homework planner this year, and you couldn’t think of anything else to give me for my birthday?” He smirked.

“I can change my mind, you know,” she pointed out.

But she smiled.

And he kissed her.

And kissed her.

And kissed her.

She sighed into his mouth as his hands started to wander.

“Clothes off, Ron,” she said.

Ron laughed, sitting up to finish unbuttoning his shirt and wriggle out of his jeans and boxers.

“Socks,” she ordered, trying to look at his feet, and not at anything further up.

He laughed again.

“What?” she demanded.

“I always knew you’d be this bossy in bed,” he said, slipping under the blankets with her. “I just wish there was someone I could tell. Can I tell Harry?”

“No, you can’t,” she said, pouting. “You really are impossible.”

“And you really are gorgeous,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “And you really are naked. Blimey.”

“And you really know how to sweet talk a girl,” she laughed.

“I said you were gorgeous,” he complained.

And kissed her.

She snuggled closer, moving against him and sighing breathily as he kissed his way down her neck and spent quite some time approaching her breasts.

She made some very encouraging noises as he pressed his erection against her, and he dared slip a hand down over her belly and place it on her thigh, his fingers curved towards his goal.

“Come on, hurry up” she whispered into his hair. “It’s getting awfully late.”

“Do you have to sound so businesslike?” he demanded, rearing back to look at her. “Are you really this calm?”

“No, I’m not,” she admitted. “I’m scared to death.”

“Well, I’m trying to be sensitive here,” he said. “First time and everything… oh, God – it is your first…”

“Of course it is,” she interrupted, looking annoyed. “Ron!”

He looked suitably abashed.

“Um,” she said. “You…”

“Absolutely,” he assured her. “I never… Lavender…”

“Fine,” she overrode him.

“Look,” he said. “D’you still want to? Only we’re bickering now, and…”

“I still want to,” she said gently. “Um, if you do. I’m just nervous.”

Ron rubbed against her thigh again and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

She blushed.

He laughed and kissed her and she relaxed against him, looping her arms around his neck.

He moved over her a bit more, slipping a knee between her legs to part them and slipping his fingers between her thighs.

She gasped.

He explored his new environment, frowning slightly with concentration and watching her face carefully to see what she liked.

“You don’t have to watch me,” she said. “You’re making me self-conscious.”

“But I have to know if I’m doing it right,” he protested, doing something very right, judging by the noise she made. Her thighs parted further as she moaned and his heart leaped as he felt how wet she was getting. “I promised I’d make sure you’d… you know, first.”

“You promised?” she echoed and his fingers stilled inside her. “You promised who?”

“Um,” he said, looking rather shifty. “Bill?”

“You promised….” She shook her head. “Never mind; we’ll talk about that later.”

Ron pulled a face and she rolled her eyes and he redoubled his efforts at pleasing his girlfriend and his brother.

And, in what he smugly hoped was rather a short time, he had her arching up against him and gasping in his arms.

“Ron!” she breathed. “Goodness.”

Then she saw his awestruck face and blushed.

“Wow,” he whispered. “You really….”

“Yes,” she said. “I really.”

“God, I’m good,” he smirked and she punched him.

“Hey,” he protested.

“Well, honestly!”

“It’s just that act two isn’t going to be as impressive."

She bit her lip. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely,” she said. “I mean, I have nothing to compare it with, and I know men have a thing about size, but…”

“Not not impressive in size,” he interrupted, blushing scarlet. “Although thank you for that. I just meant… first time… I don’t want to hurt you, and I’ll probably be crap and come straight away and…”

She put a finger on his lips.

“You won’t hurt me,” she said. “You did what you promised, right?”

He nodded.

“So I’m, um, ready for you,” she blushed. “As long as you don’t continue this stupid argument until the point that I’m completely turned off again.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” she echoed.

“Right,” he said. “So, shall I…”

“Please,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.

He moved up and over her and settled between her legs, his weight on one elbow as he reached down to position himself properly.

He kissed her hungrily, until he felt her relax, then...

“Just take it slowly at first…” she said.

…he moved slowly forward…

“…and stop if you come to a barrier, but I use tampons, so…”

“Too much information,” he muttered, the muscles in his legs trembling as he pressed inside her.

“…and there, you’re through it now…”

“I know, Hermione,” he gasped, breathing through clenched teeth as he tried desperately not to climax on the spot at the feeling of her body surrounding him. “Now, please, shut up, you are spoiling the mood.”

“I’m just…”

“Hermione,” he groaned and kissed her to stop her talking.

She tutted into his mouth, but then he carefully withdrew and thrust back into her and she gasped and started moving with him.

He was right; he didn’t last very long at all before being completely overwhelmed by the feel and smell and sight and sound and taste of her writhing beneath him.

He cried out and buried his face in her hair, thrusting erratically into her body until he saw stars and then collapsing bonelessly on top of her.

“I can’t breathe, you’re too heavy,” she complained, pushing at his shoulder until he rolled off onto his back.

He lay with an arm thrown across his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was crap.”

“No it wasn’t,” she said, curling up against him.

He wrapped his arm round her and kissed her forehead. “We had four arguments,” he said faintly. “Including one when I was actually inside you.”

“They weren’t arguments,” she corrected, smiling against his chest.

“Then what were they?” he asked.

“They were us,” she shrugged. “Why should we change just because we’re making love?”

He snorted with laughter and held her close. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, reaching up for a soft kiss. “Now, about this promise you made to Bill…”