Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
A/N: Happy horizontal tango Tuesday everybody! Very excited to be back at it with these lovebirds. Fair warning, this chapter is definitely NSFW.
Major kudos to my wonderful team of betas: accio-broom, adenei, be11atrixthestrange, and sm_jl. They helped inspire me to churn out this chapter after a short break, and I appreciate them so much!
Happy reading!
Find Me Under the Waterfall
Chapter Seven
Plans Change
Ron
When they first land through Hermione's hotel room door, the atmosphere is awkward and reserved. Ron hasn't a clue what to do next, and Hermione stands in the center of the room, wringing out the edges of her dress with her hands. Every so often, he catches a glimpse of her bare thigh, and his mouth goes dry.
Beads of sweat pool on his forehead, and he attempts to wipe the moisture away with the back of his hand while letting out a nervous chuckle. "How is it that we've talked so much, but I have no bloody clue what to say next?"
Hermione's grip on the silky fabric loosens as she releases a sigh of relief. She nibbles on her lip in a sensual way that drives him mad.
"Oh, I am so glad you said that," she admits. "I feel the exact same way."
They lock onto each other's gaze with a fierce intensity, creating a breathless tension in the air. Ron can tell by the look in Hermione's glazed over eyes that they're on a similar wavelength, all of their thoughts and desires rippling at the surface for each other to see.
One corner of Hermione's lips arches up, and their silent flirtation plays out like a chess match. Ron takes a deliberate step forward, communicating his first move as he pauses to interpret what she wants before making another one.
The dim lighting in the room creates a shadow on her skin, and Ron's met with a tidal wave of emotion that becomes lodged in his throat. He's only just aware of the faint sound of rain pattering against the thatched roof in rhythm with his thudding heartbeat. From the slightly open window in the corner of the room, the earthy scent of rain fills his nostrils and a light breeze filters through the air, providing a welcome respite from the dry heat.
Ron loses all train of thought as Hermione swipes her bottom lip with her tongue, several shaky breaths escaping her mouth while her cheeks glow with a rosy flush. He wishes he could capture this moment and preserve it like a still photograph.
The only reasonable thought running through his chaotic mind is that Hermione is positively the most amazing human he's ever met in his life. And that one single admission is fucking mind-blasting.
The growing tension in the room heightens his urgency to have her in his arms, and the attraction propels him forward like a magnet. The closer he gets to her, he smells the essential oils of rose and lavender, bringing him back to their relaxing massage from earlier in the day.
Ron's just worked up the courage to close the remaining distance between them when Hermione lunges for the minibar in the corner of the room, rummaging through its contents before holding up a chilled bottle of champagne.
"Shall we?"
Ron lets out a mirthful chuckle. "Brilliant."
With a coy smirk, Hermione hands him the bottle, indicating her request for him to open it. Keeping his gaze steady on her, Ron unwraps the foil covering the cork. He discards the rubbish and then loosens the metal cage holding the cork in the bottle by twisting the tab to fold it out. His fingers grip the cork, turning it with an absent mind. He becomes distracted by Hermione in the process, not realizing that he doesn't have as firm of a hold as intended. The cork goes flying into the air as the champagne explodes into Ron's face, as fast as a snap of the fingers. The contents spray out in fizzy bubbles, drenching them both.
They both stand in mutual shock, mouths gaping at each other's dripping forms. In the next moment, they're shaking with laughter, chipping away any remaining tension in the room.
"That escalated quickly," Hermione quips.
Ron attempts to smooth out his dampened ginger locks. "M'sure that was the shower I didn't need right now."
He takes a moment to retrieve two flutes, then pours them each a glass of what's left of the sparkling wine. Their fingertips brush together as he hands over her glass.
"Cheers."
A staring match continues as they bring their flutes up to their lips in unison, and Ron welcomes the tingling sensation of the liquid easing his dry throat. He sets the glass on the side table next to him.
"That's okay." Hermione smiles, lifting one shoulder before following his lead and setting her own glass down. "Maybe another shower will come later?"
The air leaves Ron's lungs, seizing all laughter. Come later. He's practically panting.
"Yes, please."
They're standing so close now — so close — that all he would have to do is reach a single hand out to trace the smooth lines of her face. He can hear Hermione's breath hitch, her eyes glossy with formidable desire, like she's anticipating his next move.
Without giving her the slightest bit of warning, Ron takes two short strides to reach her. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her with an intensity that quickly descends into passion. He pivots the positioning of their bodies to drive her back against the nearest wall, a desperate need to feel all of her.
Fingers sifting through her thick curls, he massages her scalp, delighting in the throaty moan of approval he receives from Hermione. The alluring mixture of tiramisu and champagne that he tastes on Hermione's lips — a taste that has become so familiar to him, and so Hermione — makes him sure he's never experienced anything like her.
Ron wedges his knee between her thighs, the heat of her core overwhelming him. He draws Hermione against his aching hardness, groaning into her mouth from the painful straining in his too-tight trousers.
Her repeated whimpers as she clutches at his shoulders almost do him in, and he can't resist slipping his hands underneath the thin material of her dress. They graze up her thigh, following a path to the lace of her knickers before resting on the curve of her bum.
Hermione responds by wrapping a single leg around his, pressing her center even more against his rigid length. Her soft sigh into his mouth that follows spurs him on, and he breaks away from her lips to plant kisses along the shell of her ear, sending an electric charge straight to his chest.
"Ermynee."
Sliding a hand to her hip, Ron hooks a finger under the edge of her knickers, dragging them down to her knees. His lips caress hers once more, mirroring the movement of his hand as it slips between her thighs. He growls when Hermione bites down on his lower lip — hard — before crying out as Ron's fingers stroke her delicate flesh.
Blimey, she's so wet and warm, and he can't resist plunging a finger into her heat.
"Gods, Ron."
He's so fucking turned on by the little noises coming out of her mouth. Foreheads and noses touching, he watches her eyes flutter close as he circles his thumb inside of her. He can taste the warmth of her breath that comes out in short, panting bursts.
A tiny hand grabs his wrist and guides his movements to hit all of the right spots.
"To the left...down a little...that's it….oh, yes, Ron!"
He's intent on driving her to her pleasure point, pumping his hand in and out of her with vigor while using his other hand to massage the curve of her breast.
He brings Hermione to the edge a few moments later as her body seemingly melts into his. Placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, he withdraws his hand from underneath her dress. When he pulls away, he gets a thrill from the sight of Hermione's untamed hair, displaying a wildness about her that he can tell she often suppresses underneath the surface. Ron's fingers trace the soft contours of her lips that are plump and swollen from his kisses.
He's aware of every movement she makes, fingertips dance at the hem of his shirt. It's impossible for him to understand every emotion he goes through at this moment. Ron's mind is hazy, like he's standing at the base of the waterfall where they first met, intoxicated by her all over again.
Keeping her eyes steady on him, she gives his buttoned-down shirt a tug before freeing it from his trousers. Ron watches her next movements as if in slow motion, and all at once, the vibrant colors of the walls seem even brighter, and a foggy mist clouds his vision. One by one, Hermione releases the buttons on his shirt, using a long, dainty finger to trail a path down his newly exposed chest, making his skin prickle from her touch. With perfected fluidity, she places her palms on his shoulders to push the remaining fabric from his arms.
Her hands are so bloody soft and warm against his bare skin, sending a burst of heat rushing through his body. He kisses her again, this time slow and gentle. Hermione sighs into his mouth while looping her arms around his neck. Her nails sink deep into his flesh to pull him closer — so close that he can feel both of their hearts pounding.
Ron slides his hands to the small of Hermione's back, pleased by the surprised gasp he elicits from her. He roams the pads of his thumbs around the metal fastener holding her dress together.
"Turn around," he mumbles into her mouth.
Hermione follows his request, noticeably rubbing her bum against his stiff arousal as she does so before pressing the base of her hands against the solid wall to brace herself. He pushes her hair to the side, letting her curls tumble in waves over one shoulder.
Ron bends over, intending to brush a chaste and innocent peck to the crook of her neck, instead giving in to the urge to attack her skin with wide, open-mouthed kisses. Her head falls to the side as she reaches behind to wrap a hand around his neck, not-so-subtly pushing his lips firmer against her flesh.
Fighting for control, Ron pulls the zipper down, down, down, relishing the view as more and more of her skin becomes exposed. Once the straps are released, the dress falls in a heap on the floor around Hermione's feet, taking her knickers, which were still hugging her knees, with it.
Ron glides his knuckles against her bare arm, a reflex that has her turning in his arms to face him, leaving him momentarily flummoxed by the sight of her bare chest. His eyes travel the length of her body, a mounting desire filling his core as the blood pounds through his veins. He opens his mouth to say something, knowing that she is waiting on bated breath for his reaction, but no sound comes out.
He doesn't need to use words to explain it all to her. He just needs to show her.
Gently caressing her elbows, he pulls her into him, bare chest to bare chest. Ron grabs a handful of her curls, tipping his head down to capture her lips with his own, pouring every last bit of pent-up emotion into the kiss.
Their small, fleeting kisses evolve into a passionate hunger that drives Ron to help Hermione strip off the remaining layers of clothing clad on his body. When they're both completely bare to one another, Ron takes a step back, eyeing Hermione for a long moment, searching for any signs of hesitation, only to be relieved when he finds none.
If anything, there is an expectant look on her face — with her glazed-over eyes and flushed cheeks — as she places a trembling hand directly over his heart. Ron almost forgets to breathe as her hands slide up his shoulders before threading through his hair, and all he can think about is resuming his desire to touch her as much as possible.
Before he can make another move, Hermione flings her arms around Ron's neck, making him grunt from the brute force as she drags her lips over his. They exchange frantic kisses as they fumble across the floor, tripping over discarded clothing along the way before knocking straight into the bedpost.
The back of Hermione's legs hit the mattress, and for a moment, it's as if they're suspended in time. Everything between them up until this point has been exciting, new, and unfamiliar, leaving Ron riddled with nerves. They've been building up to this moment, like unwrapping a gift without knowing the brilliance that lies inside. When the final barrier between them is removed, what will happen next?
Ron tucks a loose tendril behind Hermione's ear, and the next few seconds pass by in a blur. She sits on the edge of the bed, sliding her bum back until she's centered on the mattress, keeping her eyes trained on Ron as if she's silently giving him permission to come closer.
An anxious energy bubbles in Ron's stomach and he wills himself to relax — it's Hermione, and she's clearly attracted to you — as he positions himself on his hands and knees, crawling her way until he's hovering over her naked form.
He can feel her tremble beneath him, and he takes a moment to brush her loose curls away from her face. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she responds without pause. "I'm more than okay."
Ron rubs slow circles around her shoulders. "I didn't bring, er, you know." Letting out a nervous chuckle, he adds, "I didn't exactly think this would happen as a single at a couples resort."
Hermione giggles, giving his arm a squeeze. "It's okay. I'm on the pill."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm assuming I don't have anything to worry about in regards to…"
Ron gives an adamant shake of the head. "Oh, no. No, definitely not. I'm clean. 'Sides, it's been a while since I've done this."
Hermione's soft smile that follows tells him that they're ready. "Likewise. On both accounts."
That's the last thing either one of them say, choosing at this point to operate on unspoken words and let their bodies speak for them.
Ron lowers himself until he's pressed against the length of her body, taking great care not to crush her with his weight. A deep groan passes through his lips as his eagerness makes contact with her core. He brushes his thumbs against her hardened nipples, making her back arch up off the mattress. Her nails scrape up and down his backside, and the sensation makes him jolt, pressing the tip of his length into her opening.
Ears pounding like his heart, any remaining coherent thoughts are obliterated as he slowly thrusts into her.
A piercing cry from Hermione echoes through the room as he stretches and fills her, spurring Ron to continue making slow, shallow thrusts, only quickening his pace once Hermione grips his bum to press him into her even more.
The delicious friction created as he sinks into her prompts Ron to lace their fingers together on the bed. His body vibrates with pleasure from just that simple added touch, and everything is so hot and wet and electrifying.
When their noses touch, Ron's eyes close, prompting him to focus solely on the incredible feeling of burying himself in her over and over again. They roll around, a tangle of limbs amongst the sheets, each taking turns controlling the pace and rhythm. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to retain his composure, intent on savoring this sensation for as long as possible.
Hermione is panting and writhing underneath him, legs wrapped tight around his waist. When she reaches up to seal his lips with a kiss, he gasps out into her mouth as his orgasm rocks through him.
She whimpers and claws at his back, hitching her legs higher and higher up his waist glistening with sweat. One of Ron's hands finds its way back to the sensitive bundle of nerves between their joined bodies while using his other hand to grip the headboard above Hermione's head. Although his legs feel like jelly, his body is humming with the desire to bring Hermione to her peak. When she reaches her final release, Ron observes the waterfall of emotions cascading over her face — from delight to amazement to awe. It's like he's looking in a mirror, her expressions matching everything he is feeling.
Ron's elbows relinquish their steady hold as he topples his back onto the sheets.
"Bloody." Breathes. "Fucking." Breathes. "Hell."
Hermione's entire being convulses with laughter, and Ron joins in, not able to take his eyes off the amazing woman in his presence, with her unruly curls and glistening bare skin.
After a few moments to regain the energy he has depleted, Ron props himself up onto his elbow facing Hermione. He basks in the warmth of her stare as she holds his gaze.
"You've driven me mad this week, you know that? From the first moment I saw you, I was a fucking goner."
Hermione's eyes flutter closed, and she smiles. "Mmmm, that was...everything I've fantasized about all week."
Ron snuggles closer, encircling his arms around her back. "Oh yeah?"
"Of course. That was the best sex of my life."
Ron growls, already nudging her thighs open to press his knee into her core. He figures he could stay like this forever. "You feel so bloody perfect."
Four days ago, he had no idea this woman even existed. And now…
He can't — he doesn't want to imagine being like this with anyone else. Life without her in it sounds pretty fucking miserable.
Ron wakes with what seems like a feather tickling his nose. Instead, he finds hair.
Hermione's hair.
He smiles to himself, burying his nose even further into the warmth of her curls. His hands grip her warm body from underneath the silk sheets, nestling her form even more securely in his cocoon.
Ron's stepping into new territory here. He's never had such strong feelings for someone as he does Hermione. She's a breath of fresh air, an unexpected discovery during a holiday that he intended to spend alone. The original plan was to relax on the beach, critique the food, and enjoy a week of solitude.
Plans change.
Even if they weren't together for this entire trip, he knows most of his time would have been spent thinking about her and how good it feels to be touching her, holding her, kissing her.
He's never believed that someone he considers to be the exact opposite of him personality-wise could ever want to be with someone like him. Yet, here Hermione is in his arms.
Ron holds onto her even tighter, not yet ready to break the spell that they seem to be under in this little magic bubble of theirs. He doesn't want to be waiting on the edge of an inevitable turn, but the realist in him knows that the honeymoon period won't last forever.
A glaring fact crosses his mind.
Today is our last full day in Costa Rica together.
The earth-shattering reality sets in, crumbling all of Ron's hopes for a perfect day without any negative thoughts.
"Ron? Everything alright?" Hermione's voice is muffled from her face pressed into the sheets. It's as if she heard the loud thoughts swimming through his overactive mind.
"Yeah." Ron holds her tighter. "M'sorry if I woke you."
Hermione pushes her bum back against Ron's growing erection, making him groan into her neck, and it seems as if she's not sorry at all. One of Ron's hands clutches her hip on instinct, helping her rotate her body into him as they grind together.
Another growl escapes him, and he presses his lips against her ear. "Gods, you feel so good. Can I?"
"Yes, please."
He enters her from behind, and as she arches her back against him, he pushes any remaining concerns away, allowing himself to be all-consumed by her.
"You said pawn to E4, what does that mean?"
It's mid-day, and they're standing on opposite sides of the giant chessboard on the resort grounds, Hermione controlling the white pieces and Ron controlling the black. They've yet to start playing as she asks loads of questions about how the game works, and Ron finds it adorable how her nose scrunches up while debating the game strategy in her head.
"That move opens up the game and gives your white pieces some control in the center of the board."
Hermione nods, circling the life-size pieces with her hands on her hips. "And what does castling mean?"
"This move helps keep the King protected by moving it away from the center of the board, pairing the rooks closer together."
"And you mentioned a fork and skewer, or something like that. Give me the definition of those terms again."
"I-" Ron sighs, growing increasingly frustrated from the lack of play mixed with the blazing heat now scorching his pale, freckly skin. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Let's just play. I think that'll be the best way for you to pick the game up."
Hermione shrugs with indifference as she takes her position behind the board, and although Ron has played plenty of successful chess matches in his lifetime, he is suddenly questioning his every move.
It feels like the most important round of chess he's ever played.
Ever since leaving their blissful bubble in Hermione's hotel room that morning, the entire day since has been filled with moments of anxiety and overthinking. Ron only wishes that he could take a walk into her mind, but instead, he can't even quell the internal dialogue with himself.
While their adventures together throughout this past week have been physically exhausting, he finds himself even more mentally exhausted by trying to figure out what Hermione wants when they leave this island.
They've set the foundation and have the potential for a long-lasting relationship. But will it last? They're both travelers. Will they be able to be in the same place at the same time again?
It's like they've been floating on air this entire week, but Ron's doubt-filled thoughts are starting to cloud his judgment. He wishes he could skip the step of figuring out their shit and just go straight to being happy together.
Another look at Hermione's face of boredom discourages him, and his shoulders sag. "Maybe we should just try to play again another time."
Hermione shrugs, picking up her bag. "Yeah, alright."
Ron shoves his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks. He could bring up the conversation now, but his growling stomach reminds him that he should find sustenance first. "Are you hungry?"
"I guess so."
Ron points to a nearby stand. "There's pizza right-"
"We had pizza yesterday."
He can't help but curl his lip up at her quick retort. The way she snaps at him tells him that she's grown comfortable enough to show him a side of her that isn't always so happy-go-lucky.
Ron is about to suggest other dining options when Hermione turns on her heels and starts setting off without another word. His nerves are on high alert as he trails closely behind her.
Her actions are telling him that something is off. Fear starts to kick in. Is this the 'big shift' that everyone talks about? He hopes that she's on a similar wavelength as him and that this is not her way of telling him that she wants to end things.
When Hermione makes no move to slow down or stop running away from him, he's left wondering if he's gotten carried away this week by their unreal attraction to one another and Hermione's beautiful soul — wait, no. They're building a deep connection with each other, and he knows she feels it too. He's allowing his heart to open up, and they're both emotionally vulnerable around each other. That has to mean something.
In the past, Ron's had a tendency to remain closed off to others if something is bothering him. But now, he's desperate to diffuse any tension between them as quickly as possible.
He grabs her hand, pulling her back to him before she can extend the distance even more. Without realizing it, they're now standing on the sandy beachfront, in a spot where there aren't many people lurking about.
Ron takes a deep breath, observing the apprehension on Hermione's face. Here we go. "Okay, what's really going on?"
Hermione kicks her feet into the sand, appearing tortured by the weight of his question. Her shoulders rise and fall once before she begins to speak. "It's just that...we leave tomorrow. Tomorrow, Ron. And we haven't even discussed what this is-"
"Hermione-"
She flails a hand through the air, turning away from him again. "Oh, just forget I said anything. I don't want to ruin the time we have left if-"
Fuck, this woman is a talker.
"Hermione."
She starts to pace back and forth around the small space they occupy, and Ron would find it amusing how absorbed in her thoughts she is if the conversation they were about to have weren't so important.
"I mean, I know you have a life to get back to, and we've been having fun this week. I don't expect-"
"HERMIONE!"
Her mouth clamps shut, definite heat coloring her cheeks. "Sorry."
"Now, will you let me speak?"
Her silent nod indicates that he can continue.
"Brilliant." Ron rubs his hands together before taking a length step towards her, closing the distance between them. His voice drops low. "All I was going to say was...where are you headed next? 'Cause I've only just found you, Hermione, and I don't have any intention of letting you go."
He sees the way Hermione's eyes light up from his admission, and his heart swells with hope.
"After this week, I'm headed to Australia to go visit my parents. They're dentists there. I convinced my boss to let me travel there on company time and write an article on the most extraordinary locations along the coast."
Ron hums as he considers her response. "I was planning on skiving off to Romania next. My brother, Charlie, is a paleontologist, and he studies prehistoric life there. It sounded cool, so I thought I'd check it out."
"Oh." Hermione smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "That sounds brilliant."
"But…" Ron's intentional pause allows him time to intertwine their fingers together. "Plans change. I could always push back my trip. And I've never been to Australia."
A small puff of air leaves Hermione's lips, and she searches his eyes. "Are you saying…"
It feels like they've been dipping their toes in the water all week without fully submerging themselves. Is he fooling himself for thinking this could be something more beyond this week of bliss? Could they make a real relationship work?
What he's learned from his parents is that real feelings are messy and complicated, and no one is supposed to have all of the answers right away.
All I can do, he reiterates to himself, is speak the truth and show her all of me.
Ron squeezes her hands once. "Look, I don't know what the future holds for us, Hermione, but I want — I need to find out."
He realizes that he's taking the biggest gamble of a lifetime, and the probability of heartbreak is very high. However, he doesn't care. He wants to pursue a real relationship with her, no matter what is at stake. He looks at her with unwavering truth.
"I'm all in. Are you?"
