A Bit of Good, Clean Fun by Luvscharlie
Ron stood outside the flat he shared with Hermione, George and Lee above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and listened for the retreating footsteps of George and Lee as they moved towards their rooms. When they had finally gone, Ron heard water running in the loo at the opposite end of the flat and stripped off his clothes, dropping them along the way.
Ron stood propped casually against the doorframe for a moment, drinking in her silhouette behind the beveled glass of the shower door, amidst the steam and fragrant soap. He crossed the room, slid in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as she rinsed the few remaining bubbles from her skin.
"Did it work?" she asked, leaning back into the comfort of his embrace.
"Of course. Doesn't it always?" The loo was hot from the steamy shower and the scented soaps were intoxicating, almost to the point he felt nauseous.
"They must think we do nothing but row. We should find some new ways to divert their attention… or get our own flat."
Ron guffawed. "On the few Galleons my brother parts with in return for my slave labour, we'll be lucky if we ever get our own place. So until then, my love, diversions are our friend." Ron's arms tightened around her, and his teeth lightly nipped her shoulder. "Do you remember the last time they thought we were in here shaggin'?" Ron asked. His hand brushed aside her wet curls, and his teeth nipped a bit farther up the column of her neck, then tugged on her earlobe, before he nestled his nose into her sweet smelling hair.
She startled when his tongue dipped into her ear. "I remember." She grimaced as she said the words. "But, still, they must think we're horribly suited for one another as often as they hear us 'row'." She turned in the circle of his arms and raised herself on tiptoes. He followed her lead and leaned into the slow, deep kiss she offered, pressing her water-slick skin flush against him.
"I don't bloody care what they think," said Ron, when the kiss broke, "as long as no more of their fireworks go off over our bed while I'm making love to you."
Hermione giggled at the memory.
"You can laugh now," he said, "but it wasn't funny at the time. I nearly had heart failure."
"I do remember how angry you were hearing them laugh outside the door."
"I don't recall you being all that happy yourself."
She grimaced once again. "No. I –" Her words were cut off by a loud crash outside the door of the loo, which Ron said a silent thank you that he'd remembered to close.
"Seems we might not have been as convincing as we thought," said Ron.
Hermione tightened her arms around him when he started to pull away to investigate the source of the calamity and whimpered.
"What are going on about, love?" Ron asked, at the very un-Hermione-like sound that escaped her throat and the childish pout of her lips.
"Don't go," she whinged. "You've been teasing me all night."
Ron feigned a shocked look and held up his hands in an I-have-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about manner, though his twinkling eyes belied his words.
"You look about as innocent as George right after an explosion in the shop," Hermione remarked sarcastically, turning her back on him and crossing her arms over her chest.
He didn't retreat, didn't go to check the source of the commotion, and instead pushed her back against the shower wall and pressed himself firmly against her. He tilted her chin up to him kissing her hard, his tongue darting across her lower lip, tracing the edge and then slipping into her mouth tasting her, drinking her in, reveling in the taste of the water that trickled down her face and the sweetness that was uniquely her own.
"Does that make up for the teasing at the pub?"
"I wasn't complaining, Ron. That was the most pleasant evening we've spent at the pub when Luna and Rolf were present."
"Well, love, it would have been rude not to include them, as we were there to celebrate Luna's birthday."
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I wasn't able to focus on anything they said all evening."
"Did something else have your focus this evening?" Ron asked, using what he thought might be considered an innocent sounding voice… at least to someone who didn't know him.
"You know bloody well, Ronald Weasley, what had my undivided attention this evening." She captured his hand and pulled it to her lips, brushing kisses over his fingertips, and pulling each of his fingers into her mouth, sucking them and placing a kiss in the center of his palm. "Your fingers teasing me beneath the table, bringing me so close and then pulling them away. And no, it doesn't."
Ron gave her a quizzical look. "It doesn't?"
"Doesn't make up for the teasing. You can do better than that."
He grinned at her and reached for her hand to pull her from the shower, but she pulled away. "No," she whispered in a tone more seductive than her usual voice. "I want you now."
"You've got me now," he replied, reaching once more to take her hand. She pulled back again.
Hermione latched on, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly and moaning into his ear how much she wanted him. Ron fisted his hand into her hair, pulling her head back to gain access to the hollow of her throat. His tongue licked the droplets of water from her throat's base and teased trails up each side of her neck. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, loving the reaction, the little sighs and gasps that no one before him had been privileged to hear. A droplet of water glistened, clinging desperately to the tip of one nipple. Ron leaned forward and caught it with his tongue.
"No more teasing," she pleaded, attempting all the while to wrap her legs around his waist and urge him to get on with it. She ground her hips against his thigh and said his name once more.
"Slow down, love," he said into her ear. "There's no rush."
"Yes, there is," she replied. "I think I may explode if I don't have you soon."
"Mm, I do like it when you're eager," Ron said, slipping his hand between her legs and tracing the outer edges of her sex with teasing strokes of his fingertips.
"Slide your fingers inside and you'll see just how eager I am," she taunted clasping her hand around his wrist and dragging it back to her entrance.
Ron groaned at the images her words placed in his head and his control waned. Hermione seemed to realise there had been a shift in his rigid determination to take this slow. She dipped her own fingers between her legs and brought them to his lips, and his staunch determination crumbled.
"Hermione." Her name on his lips was half-curse, half-prayer, as he pressed her into the shower wall, her back nestled firmly against his chest. "Are you ready?" he asked, placing his palms against the wall for leverage.
She pushed back against him in reply when he pressed his body to her, and he entered her hard and fast. She moaned her appreciation, saying his name over and over in the steam-filled room, as he brought her closer and closer to the relief she craved. She rocked her hips in rhythm with his, every movement pushing her pleasure higher. She turned and leaned her head back a bit to capture his lips with those of her own, saying, "I love you," and clinging to him as she tumbled over the edge of ecstasy. She came hard, and he felt each spasm of her muscles as she tightened around him. Colours exploded behind his eyes and he collapsed against her back, spent from the exertions of their shared shower.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. They could do little more than focus their attention on the necessity of breathing. Hermione broke the silence first by leaning back against Ron, stroking a hand down his jaw and kissing him lightly on the lips. "So do we have another friend's birthday to celebrate soon? If so, I propose we do it in just the same manner."
"Agreed, love, agreed," said Ron, chuckling.
Fin.