Title: steam/sin
Author: Telula
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Ginny's lost in the steam of the shower. And she can't stop. She can't stop her little sin. Not with Hermione Granger there.
Disclaimer: Characters are JKR's. Forgive me.
Warnings: Femmeslash. Hermione/Ginny. That means girl on girl action. Angsty.
Author Notes: Please review! Now…onto the fic!
steam/sin
Ginny learned soon enough that the hardest part about getting into the shower was getting out. And not just getting in, but getting in with Hermione Granger.
It wasn't innocent anymore. It wasn't a let's see what happens when we do this; let's see if we get bumps on our skin when the hot water touches that; when I touch that.
It was lust. You knew it was. And the sorry thing is that it burns inside you more each day and you have no intention of extinguishing the fire anytime soon. It's burning inside you still, after all these weeks. Lust. Raw lust. Raw need. Just for her.
It always happened in the showers. That's where life is best, Hermione would say. Just one step under the blazing water and you're already aroused. Your senses are already doubled and you're already wet.
Hermione, damn her, didn't do the whole arousal thing. She didn't masturbate in bed or touch herself when you were around. The shower was enough. It lasted. The fire inside of her lasted and she carried around her little sin until it was rekindled, you between her legs, helpless, needy, gasping for air beneath the water that beats down on you relentlessly. And that's all Hermione needs for the day.
You're just the opposite. It isn't enough for you. You'll touch yourself anytime you can. You'd even do it in front of Hermione. You even do it once Hermione's left the shower after she's had all she needed, even when you weren't finished with her. So you would satisfy your own self, hands groping over your slender, sensitive body, the body you wished was Hermione's instead.
And that was the sin. The secret you kept from the world. When your mother would say to shower you'd say of course, mum and why don't I screw my friend while I'm at it? Why don't I shag Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Head Girl, miss bossy-boots and bushy-hair and beautiful piece of work while I'm at it? But you don't say that. You only say ok.
The steam's everywhere. It always is, but you still aren't used to it. You still hate it. You hate it because you can't see her. Can't see where to kiss her or touch her. And the water pours so hard that when you say "I love you" she doesn't hear. Or perhaps she does - always has heard - and simply doesn't respond.
You try to grab onto something as you feel yourself reaching your orgasm, spiraling downwards in a maddening ecstasy, Hermione lost inside of you. But when you reach out for something - anything - all you get is the steam-covered glass of the shower door and your hands slip, fingertips leaving a raked trail, pushing the steam out of the way.
Then she's gone. Just like that. And you aren't sure if she was ever really there, or if she was a whiff of steam enticing you as you fantasized about her and got lost in the little sin you keep hidden inside of you.
And then Ginny would crawl up the shower and wrench the cold water on before she forgot what cold water felt like.