shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2003-02-17 01:00:00 |
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Thumbs - R/Hr - R
Title: Thumbs
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Word Count : 1065
They're really not gonna be sex gods, are they?
Thumbs
****
I was lying on my bed, reading a Quidditch magazine, when a red-eared Ron sauntered far too casually in and sat beside me. I peered over the top of the page and raised an eyebrow, but he was industriously pleating my blanket between long fingers and ignoring me.
I reckoned he'd speak before bursting, so I turned a page and read an interview with the England captain, who was moving to a team in the newly formed League of America, in yet another futile attempt to get the Americans interested in Quidditch.
"Um," Ron finally said.
I carefully laid my magazine down and looked at his flushed face.
"There's really no one else I can talk to about this," he muttered. "'Snot something I can ask my dad, or mention to a brother."
I sat up; puffing out my cheeks and watching him squirm.
"How bad is this?" I asked.
"Chhh," he hissed. "It's not bad, it's embarrassing."
"What have you done?" I asked.
"Nothing!" he said indignantly. "It's just we were…" he stopped, mouthing a few words, silently, "…never mind."
"Ron?"
"'Sjust, if you don't know, then I've achieved nothing but humiliating myself," he sighed. "And if you do know, well that's more than you should know and than I want to know about Ginny's… area."
I blinked.
"Why d'you want to know about Ginny's area?!" I asked.
"I completely don't," he huffed. "But our only frame of reference, here, is to compare it to Hermione's."
"Dear god," I said weakly.
He squared his shoulders. "So," he said. "We've been kissing and stuff, and Hermione likes to… sit in my lap."
"If you were embarrassed about stuff like that," I said, as he paused to gather his thoughts, "you would never have put on such a show with Lavender."
He frowned at me. "Not like Lav… like that," he said. "Hermione… straddles me."
"Right," I said. "That's nice?"
"And it's summer, now," he said.
"And?"
"And straddling me in jeans was one thing, but straddling me in little summer dresses is a completely other."
I tried hard not to picture it, not wanting an image of Hermione's thighs in my mind.
"So, we're kissing," he went on, relentlessly, "and my hands were on her legs, and slid up, under her skirt, and she didn't stop me."
"And that's a problem?" I asked.
He snorted. "No, that's not a problem," he said. "The problem is I didn't know what to do with my thumbs."
"Thumbs?" I echoed. "'Sfar as I know, it's the groinal areas that are challenging. Thumbs pretty much take care of themselves."
He sighed heavily.
"My groinal area was keen to get involved," he said seriously. " And since when do we not say 'cock', by the way?"
"You stared with the coy terminology," I protested.
"About Hermione's…" He nodded significantly.
"I don't want a word for Hermione's area," I said earnestly. "We were talking about thumbs?"
"I don't usually have a problem with my thumbs," he said darkly. "But a girl's inner thigh turns into this... scoopy bit, that your thumbs just automatically slide along. Mine, not yours."
I huffed.
"Even if my thumbs had slid into a girl's knickers," I said and he flinched, "what is your actual problem, here?"
"I wasn't expecting to access her area," he said. "I don't know anything about a girl's area and suddenly my thumbs slide through hair and they meet in…"
"In?" I prompted, half fascinated and half disgusted.
"In… wet," he said lamely.
"Wet," I echoed.
"I pinched a steamy novel from Bill's room, once," he said, "and the bloke was 'probing her moist folds'," I grimaced. "yes, exactly!" he said.
"What?"
"It was all wet and I pulled that face," he nodded at me, "and she stopped half way through a gasp to go all rigid and frown at me."
"Ah," I said helpfully and helplessly.
"So, we went from her all groaning and snogging me, to all frowning and upset," he said sadly. "And I said 'what's wrong', and she said 'that's what I want to know', and I said 'why d'you stop?', and she said 'why d'you stop?' and the whole time my thumbs are up her… folds, and I can't stay 'I stopped because it feels like you wet yourself'…"
He stopped babbling, his eyes wild, his hands flailing in the air between us.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"So," I said. "Is the problem that you upset her?"
"No," he said. "I can sort out my own misunderstandings with Hermione. Chapter seven, if nothing else."
"Right," I said, "good."
"it's… my thumbs, " he said.
"They're not still up her, surely?" I asked and he gave me a filthy look.
"She wriggled backwards and they slipped out of her and she was blushing and my thumbs were wet and she was saying maybe we should slow down and my thumbs were wet."
I looked at his hands.
"You have washed them, haven't you?" I asked.
He leant closer and raised his hand to my face.
"Ron?" I said uncertainly and he thrust his thumb into my mouth, as it opened.
"Of course I washed them," he protested, as I spluttered and clawed at my tongue. "Look, are you gonna answer my question, or not?"
"I still don't know what the question is," I pointed out.
"Was she supposed to be that wet?" he muttered.
I blinked.
"Um, yes?" I said "Girls get … wet when they're excited. 'Stead of hard. It's a good sign."
He humphed.
"You're sure?" he pressed. "That was… moist folds, and not some … unfortunate accident?"
"Christ, Ron," I said weakly. "Look, would Hermione let you touch her if she'd had an unfortunate accident?"
"No," he said.
"Would she let you touch her if you'd got her all excited?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Then, there you go," I said briskly, hoping I'd survived the conversation. "She was all turned on and then you pulled a revolted face when you touched her bits. So. Just tell her you were shocked she let you go so far."
He looked relieved and rather determined.
"Right, thanks," he said. "D'w'I want to know how you know all about moist folds?"
"Someone told me what to look out for," I said firmly.
"Ah, good," he said, looking relieved. "Um, who?"
I shrugged helplessly.
"Ginny."
****
This was brought to you by me reading yet another fic where Ron accesses Hermione for the first time and is all 'mmm, you are so wet for me, baby'.
Title: Thumbs
Author:
shocfixPairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Word Count : 1065
They're really not gonna be sex gods, are they?
Thumbs
****
I was lying on my bed, reading a Quidditch magazine, when a red-eared Ron sauntered far too casually in and sat beside me. I peered over the top of the page and raised an eyebrow, but he was industriously pleating my blanket between long fingers and ignoring me.
I reckoned he'd speak before bursting, so I turned a page and read an interview with the England captain, who was moving to a team in the newly formed League of America, in yet another futile attempt to get the Americans interested in Quidditch.
"Um," Ron finally said.
I carefully laid my magazine down and looked at his flushed face.
"There's really no one else I can talk to about this," he muttered. "'Snot something I can ask my dad, or mention to a brother."
I sat up; puffing out my cheeks and watching him squirm.
"How bad is this?" I asked.
"Chhh," he hissed. "It's not bad, it's embarrassing."
"What have you done?" I asked.
"Nothing!" he said indignantly. "It's just we were…" he stopped, mouthing a few words, silently, "…never mind."
"Ron?"
"'Sjust, if you don't know, then I've achieved nothing but humiliating myself," he sighed. "And if you do know, well that's more than you should know and than I want to know about Ginny's… area."
I blinked.
"Why d'you want to know about Ginny's area?!" I asked.
"I completely don't," he huffed. "But our only frame of reference, here, is to compare it to Hermione's."
"Dear god," I said weakly.
He squared his shoulders. "So," he said. "We've been kissing and stuff, and Hermione likes to… sit in my lap."
"If you were embarrassed about stuff like that," I said, as he paused to gather his thoughts, "you would never have put on such a show with Lavender."
He frowned at me. "Not like Lav… like that," he said. "Hermione… straddles me."
"Right," I said. "That's nice?"
"And it's summer, now," he said.
"And?"
"And straddling me in jeans was one thing, but straddling me in little summer dresses is a completely other."
I tried hard not to picture it, not wanting an image of Hermione's thighs in my mind.
"So, we're kissing," he went on, relentlessly, "and my hands were on her legs, and slid up, under her skirt, and she didn't stop me."
"And that's a problem?" I asked.
He snorted. "No, that's not a problem," he said. "The problem is I didn't know what to do with my thumbs."
"Thumbs?" I echoed. "'Sfar as I know, it's the groinal areas that are challenging. Thumbs pretty much take care of themselves."
He sighed heavily.
"My groinal area was keen to get involved," he said seriously. " And since when do we not say 'cock', by the way?"
"You stared with the coy terminology," I protested.
"About Hermione's…" He nodded significantly.
"I don't want a word for Hermione's area," I said earnestly. "We were talking about thumbs?"
"I don't usually have a problem with my thumbs," he said darkly. "But a girl's inner thigh turns into this... scoopy bit, that your thumbs just automatically slide along. Mine, not yours."
I huffed.
"Even if my thumbs had slid into a girl's knickers," I said and he flinched, "what is your actual problem, here?"
"I wasn't expecting to access her area," he said. "I don't know anything about a girl's area and suddenly my thumbs slide through hair and they meet in…"
"In?" I prompted, half fascinated and half disgusted.
"In… wet," he said lamely.
"Wet," I echoed.
"I pinched a steamy novel from Bill's room, once," he said, "and the bloke was 'probing her moist folds'," I grimaced. "yes, exactly!" he said.
"What?"
"It was all wet and I pulled that face," he nodded at me, "and she stopped half way through a gasp to go all rigid and frown at me."
"Ah," I said helpfully and helplessly.
"So, we went from her all groaning and snogging me, to all frowning and upset," he said sadly. "And I said 'what's wrong', and she said 'that's what I want to know', and I said 'why d'you stop?', and she said 'why d'you stop?' and the whole time my thumbs are up her… folds, and I can't stay 'I stopped because it feels like you wet yourself'…"
He stopped babbling, his eyes wild, his hands flailing in the air between us.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"So," I said. "Is the problem that you upset her?"
"No," he said. "I can sort out my own misunderstandings with Hermione. Chapter seven, if nothing else."
"Right," I said, "good."
"it's… my thumbs, " he said.
"They're not still up her, surely?" I asked and he gave me a filthy look.
"She wriggled backwards and they slipped out of her and she was blushing and my thumbs were wet and she was saying maybe we should slow down and my thumbs were wet."
I looked at his hands.
"You have washed them, haven't you?" I asked.
He leant closer and raised his hand to my face.
"Ron?" I said uncertainly and he thrust his thumb into my mouth, as it opened.
"Of course I washed them," he protested, as I spluttered and clawed at my tongue. "Look, are you gonna answer my question, or not?"
"I still don't know what the question is," I pointed out.
"Was she supposed to be that wet?" he muttered.
I blinked.
"Um, yes?" I said "Girls get … wet when they're excited. 'Stead of hard. It's a good sign."
He humphed.
"You're sure?" he pressed. "That was… moist folds, and not some … unfortunate accident?"
"Christ, Ron," I said weakly. "Look, would Hermione let you touch her if she'd had an unfortunate accident?"
"No," he said.
"Would she let you touch her if you'd got her all excited?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Then, there you go," I said briskly, hoping I'd survived the conversation. "She was all turned on and then you pulled a revolted face when you touched her bits. So. Just tell her you were shocked she let you go so far."
He looked relieved and rather determined.
"Right, thanks," he said. "D'w'I want to know how you know all about moist folds?"
"Someone told me what to look out for," I said firmly.
"Ah, good," he said, looking relieved. "Um, who?"
I shrugged helplessly.
"Ginny."
****
This was brought to you by me reading yet another fic where Ron accesses Hermione for the first time and is all 'mmm, you are so wet for me, baby'.