7. The Temptation
Maybe playing 'Never have I ever' had been a bad idea, but Pansy would argue that it was very hard indeed to come up with any good ideas after delving into the variety of alcoholic beverages that Muggles had to offer. She'd developed a taste for Absinthe, which, according to Hermione, killed off brain cells just by inhaling the vapours that escaped from the glass, never mind actually drinking it. Just what she needed to forget… what she wanted to forget and refused to think about.
They'd done the rounds of every Wizarding bar in town until they had ended up in Luna's flat, a collection of brightly coloured liquors set out on a low table and drinks being refilled in a moment's notice. So when the Weaselette had suggested the game, Pansy hadn't objected.
And of course she'd downed her drink when that same redhead suggested she had never slept with Draco Malfoy. They'd been each other's first, after all. At least, first of the opposite sex. She'd grinned at Hermione's surprised face when it turned out she wasn't the only one drinking. She'd grinned even wider when it appeared Hermione had never kissed another woman. It turned out Pansy had something in common with the Weaselette and Loony Lovegood after all.
It had seemed like an even better idea to just continue drinking after they'd run out of games - or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they'd run out of brain cells to think of games. Lovegood soon fell asleep on the sofa, curling into the Weaselette who was also snoring softly. Only Hermione and Pansy were still awake. They were leaning against the coffee table, a bottle of gin between them. They'd forgotten about tonic long ago. Pansy wondered if Hermione also hoped the room would stop spinning soon.
"You really never ever ever kissed a woman?" she heard herself asking.
Hermione started to shake her head but stopped with an agonized groan. "No. Really, really, really, no."
"I like kissing women," Pansy said. "And men. Don't mind either way. Jus' like kissing, I s'pose."
Hermione's head slowly turned towards Pansy. Her eyes lingered on Pansy's mouth, which curved into a suggestive smile.
"Wanna try?" that cherry-red mouth asked, a pink tongue slowly licking the upper lip.
Hermione drew in a sharp breath. She bit her lip and shifted a little away from Pansy, but her eyes were still fixed on those seductively pouting lips. She glanced behind her at the sofa where Luna and Ginny had fallen asleep. They didn't stir. There was a mix of panic and curiosity in her eyes.
"'S jus' a kiss," murmured Pansy, sitting up and steadying herself with one hand on the coffee table.
Hermione leaned towards Pansy, just a tiny little bit. Pansy swallowed. Some part of her brain seemed to be begging her to stop, but she couldn't quite make out the reasons through a roaring cloud of absinthe and gin, so she ignored it. Tentative fingers reached out and touched her cheek, her chin, her lips. Pansy closed her eyes with a gasp. So innocent, yet her skin seemed to burn in the wake of that touch. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel her body tremble from the sheer force. Then soft, hesitant lips brushed hers.
She tasted of oranges and vanilla and alcohol. Her lips moved first tentatively, then more insistently, exploring, begging, nipping until Pansy opened her mouth just a little and their tongues met in an explosion of colours and fire that ran all over her body until it settled between her legs, pulsing, throbbing, yearning. Pansy drew Hermione closer until their bodies were flush against each other, curving into each other perfectly, one arm securely around her shoulders in an attempt to keep steady, the other against her lower back. She could feel Hermione's hard nipples brushing against her own through layers of fabric. When her thumb brushed the underside of Hermione's breast, she gasped and broke the kiss. Pansy opened her eyes again, wondering why everything in that room was whirling on its axis except Hermione. Hermione, who had kissed her. Hermione, who stared at her, eyes alight with lust and wonder.
Their panting breaths sounded too loud in the quiet room. Pansy leaned back, her hands gliding away from Hermione's soft body. She didn't want to let go, her hands lingering on Hermione's waist. One thought echoed screaming in her ears. Leave! Leave now! She knew she had to go. But then Hermione kissed her again and any rational thought that had somehow managed to root itself in her alcohol-addled brain evaporated. One of them lost their balance, they didn't quite know how, and they toppled over onto the rug, Pansy on top of Hermione. Pansy's fingers got stuck in Hermione's wild curls and they broke apart again. Laughing quietly, Hermione helped Pansy untangle her hands. Their eyes met, their breaths mingled, and this time it was Pansy who moved closer until they were kissing again.
Pansy nipped at her neck, bit and kissed that sensitive spot in the hollow of her throat until Hermione squirmed underneath her, biting her hand to muffle her moans. She left a trail of kisses and licks over her collarbone and then lower, dragging one strap of Hermione's top down over her shoulder to expose her breast. It was covered in fine, white lace. She moved closer but before her lips touched the hard nipple, she hesitated and looked back up to Hermione.
"More?" she whispered.
Hermione licked her lips. Her eyes met Pansy's and she stared into them as if searching for an answer. Then her hands, though trembling slightly, found the shoulder fasteners of Pansy's robe and started fumbling with them until they opened with a decisive click.
"Sweet Circe, yes!"
Pansy continued to slowly undress Hermione, honouring every inch of skin that was bared, teasing her with barely-there touches and light kisses. Hermione was so very responsive, merely watching her reactions gave Pansy the same pleasure. She shrugged off her own robes and Hermione explored her body with a curiosity and tenderness that set an entirely new part of her on fire.
Dressed in only their underwear, they lay together, breathing unsteadily, fingers entangled, legs entwined and foreheads touching.
Pansy took a deep breath. Her nostrils filled with the scent of roses and honey and parchment and Hermione. She slowly trailed one hand up Hermione's legs until a finger hooked into her panties, gliding up and down her quivering stomach.
"More?"
AN: Beta love as always to Chiseplushie, who, by the way, is writing an amazing 8th year Drarry which you should totally go read if you're into that pairing!
