please note this chapter finally earns the M rating. enjoy! :)
Hermione knew that she was being ridiculous, and she was also well aware that she hadn't fooled Ron in the slightest last night, telling him that everything was fine. And she knew that when he woke up and found her note, explaining that she had met her new friend for a wedding planning breakfast, he was going to be—rightfully—even more suspicious that something wasn't right between them.
But it wasn't his fault that she still had feelings for him, and she knew she wasn't here because of some secret initiative he had to get them back together. It was a job, and he needed her help. That was all. She knew this, of course, but yesterday had been a stark confirmation, albeit one that she apparently desperately needed.
She and Ron had now snogged twice since she had signed on for this mission, along with an assortment of other deceptively intimate gestures, and both times, it had been so good. It had felt so real. It made her want to throw all caution to the wind and just pick things up again, her and Ron, but her affections were obviously more one-sided than she might have thought.
After all, she remembered with perfect clarity what an aroused Ron looked and felt like and...well, he hadn't been. Not when they were tangled together in the ocean, and not when she had thrown herself at him while they were following Berisha. And they had been closely entwined in both instances; he wouldn't have been able to hide it. Even if he had moved on from her romantically, she would have thought that a physical attraction at least had lingered; it certainly had for her.
Maybe that was it, Hermione mused as she rode the lift down to the lobby. He had caught her ogling him more than once already on this mission, so he must have had some idea of what she was feeling, and he didn't want to make things worse for her. She supposed, as a friend, she appreciated that.
Her unresolved attraction to him—because, honestly, her own fingers in the shower last night just didn't offer the same satisfaction that his always had—was not so interested in platonic appreciation. It was altogether too tempting to use their cover as a couple to act on her desires; although, their cover wasn't exactly a viable excuse for the things she wanted to do in the confines of their suite. And, logically, she knew that would only make it harder to move on, a task which had proven nearly impossible already.
Which was exactly why she needed to take the morning, away from Ron, and get her head back on straight. Discussing a pretend wedding to him wasn't perhaps the best way to do that, but it was a way to get close to a member of the staff, which would shift her focus back to the reason they were here in the first place. Maybe Laurel would have some insight as to the happenings of the shadier side of the resort.
She spotted Laurel on the back patio overlooking the beach, an assortment of fabric swatches and sketches spread out on the large table in front of her. "Oh, good, you made it!" she squealed as Hermione approached. "I thought you and Owen might have worn each other out last night after the way you looked coming back from your walk."
Hermione forced a smile to her face, hoping desperately that her cheeks wouldn't flush too badly and give anything away. "Oh, you know how it is," she said lightly, taking a seat and pouring herself a coffee. "We've been together long enough these days, we're a bit boring with our sex life anymore. Asleep as soon as we got upstairs."
Considering they had only just met last night, Hermione was surprised when Laurel laughed in disbelief. "Boring?" she repeated. "Yeah, right. You two strike me more as the type of couple who'll shag absolutely anywhere because they just can't wait." Hermione crossed her legs under the table and made a production of unfolding a napkin in her lap. They had been that way, once, but those days were long gone, and Hermione didn't want to discuss them, even in their now-fictional context.
"What have you got here?" she asked instead, changing the subject.
Laurel smirked slightly, but went about describing all the fabric samples in great detail while Hermione pretended to be interested. She was actually surprised it took Ron as long as it did to make an appearance at breakfast, but she was subjected to Laurel's wedding talk for the better part of an hour before she spotted him across the restaurant. He wove through the tables to get to them, though he didn't seem in any hurry, and he smiled broadly before leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Is there anything left for me to decide?" Ron teased. "Or have you got the whole wedding planned out?"
"Only the robes," Hermione replied. "Where are you headed?" He was dressed casually, so she knew it wasn't his intention to stay and eat.
"Out for a run on the beach." Ron put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Can I borrow you for a minute?" Hermione nodded briefly and stood to follow him to the edge of the patio. There wasn't enough privacy for them to speak candidly, but it was obvious he had more on his mind than their fake wedding plans as his eyes searched hers, full of concern. "You okay?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
"I told you I am," Hermione whispered back, glancing over her shoulder. Laurel had taken out a quill and was sketching away, seemingly not paying them any mind.
Ron's lips twitched, a sure sign that he knew she was lying, but they weren't in a position for him to call her out on it. "Meet up for lunch?" he asked instead.
"Lunch?" Hermione asked with a laugh. "How far away are you running?"
"Dunno." Ron shrugged. "Just thought I'd make myself scarce for a bit."
"You don't have to do that." He shrugged again, rankling Hermione's nerves. "Okay," she said flatly. "Lunch, then." She leaned up and kissed his cheek for show before she turned abruptly and hurried back to Laurel, who picked the conversation right up where they had left off, none the wiser to the tension between Hermione and Ron.
After another hour or so, and the sketching of a fully designed set of wedding robes Hermione would have never worn in an actual wedding, she and Laurel parted ways, and she headed back up to the suite. Ron hadn't returned, so she grabbed a book and headed out to the balcony to read and enjoy the view. She had barely cracked the cover when she heard the door open, and Ron walked into their room, discarding his sweaty t-shirt without noticing her outside. Hermione considered not alerting him to her presence, but if he continued to undress, she was sure that what remained of her self-control would be washed out with the tide.
Hermione stood, tossing the book down to the chair and entering the bedroom. "Hi," she greeted him tentatively. Ron flashed her a brief half-smile of acknowledgment before turning away to rummage through the closet. "How was your run?" she tried again.
"Fine," Ron replied shortly, causing Hermione to give a beleaguered sigh.
She shut the balcony door to close them behind Ron's silencing charms and asked irritably, "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
Ron turned and glared at her, the search in the closet forgotten. "I brought you on this mission with me because I trust you more than anyone in the world," he replied fiercely. "And if you don't have the same trust in me, then I don't know what we're still doing here."
Hermione sighed, his sincere response deflating her anger a bit. "It's stupid."
"Try me." Ron folded his arms across his bare chest and looked at her unflinchingly. She didn't really want to admit to him what was going through her head, but it was obvious that Ron wasn't going to let it go. And he was right, she wasn't exactly being fair to him. Hermione sighed and took a hesitant step closer to him.
"I just…" She paused, trying to cobble together the least embarrassing set of words to convey her feelings. "Being this close to you has...stirred some things up for me." She chanced a glance over at Ron, who had quirked one eyebrow curiously but was otherwise completely still, listening to her. "Some...feelings. And I thought that…" She took a deep breath, and when she continued, the words came out in a rush. "That it might be the same for you but it's not and that's fine and I just feel ridiculous about it, so if we could please drop it, that would be great."
Ron was silent for a moment, but his next words surprised her. "Why do you say that?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because I don't want this to be any more awkward between us than I've already made it and—"
"Why do you say it's not the same for me?" he cut her off.
She shot him an indignant glare. "It's been quite obvious what you're not feeling," she retorted, sure that her face was by now the approximate shade of a tomato. "During our...entanglements."
Ron let out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You're mad at me because I didn't take advantage of our situation to grope you like a randy teenager?"
"I'm not mad at you. I'm feeling...insecure, I suppose, because I'm still attracted to you and you don't feel the same about me." Hermione looked down at her feet, afraid to see Ron's reaction to her admission. She was sure it wasn't a total shock, other than for her to have actually said it; their relationship had been an off-limits topic ever since it had ended.
"You—" Ron sputtered. "You really think I'm not—?" She looked up at him to see him shaking his head. "You're bloody mental, Hermione. I had a sex dream about you literally the night before we left."
Hermione frowned at him. "You don't have to patronize me about it by making things up."
"I'm not making it up!" He took a step toward her and then stopped abruptly. It was impossible to miss the blazing look in his eyes that underlined the truth of his words. "I want to come over there and kiss you for real and show you how wrong you are, but if that's not what you wanted out of this conversation, you had better tell me now."
Hermione sucked in a shallow breath, thinking quickly. She wanted him, badly, but was a single moment of weakness really worth the possible derailment of the friendship they had worked so hard to repair? He hadn't moved, waiting for her answer, and she was overwhelmed with the respect he had for her; honestly, it had always been one of the sexiest things about him, and her decision was made in an instant.
She bit her lip, her body humming with an intoxicating mix of nerves and wanton anticipation, and gave him a quick nod of answer. Ron crossed the room in two long strides, sweeping her into his arms to kiss her fiercely. It was only then, as her senses were positively flooded with him—the lingering taste of his spearmint toothpaste, the feel of his skin still sticky with sweat beneath her wandering hands, the sound of the groan that rumbled from deep within him as she pulled him toward the bed—that she realized just how much he had been holding back the day before.
The back of her legs hit the bed, and she settled back against the rumpled covers—they had declined housekeeping services for the sake of privacy, and Ron had unsurprisingly not bothered to make the bed before heading out. Ron fell with her, his weight comfortingly familiar as he tore his lips from hers to trail kisses down her neck. He shifted slightly to allow himself room to slip his hand under her blouse, and as he moved, she could feel him already hard against her hip.
Hermione moaned softly as his fingers teased her through the thin fabric of her bra. She sat up abruptly and tore her shirt off over her head, reaching behind her back for her bra clasp next. The corner of Ron's mouth turned up in a smirk as he watched her. "Impatient, are we?" he teased.
Considering that she now knew they were on the same page—as they had always been, more often than not, and as usual, both just too scared to admit it—their entire week together now felt like foreplay, and she wasn't interested in drawing it out any longer. At least not this time. "Yes," she growled back as she reached for him, far too turned on to care about maintaining any illusion of self-restraint.
She pushed his shorts and boxers down from his hips in one motion, and any other cheeky comments he might have had for her were silenced by her hand wrapping around him. "Fuck, Hermione," he groaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut.
She shot him back a grin of her own as she stroked him, though he wasn't looking at her. "That's the idea," she quipped. She knew how much Ron had loved when she adopted a less-than-proper demeanor in the bedroom, and that apparently hadn't changed in their time apart. His eyes flew open, as dark as she had ever seen them, and he wasted no time in ridding her of her skirt and soaked knickers, leaving both of them completely bare.
Ron dropped back to his elbows, holding himself just above her as his lips ravaged hers once more. Hermione squirmed beneath him, pushing her hips up to his in an effort to create friction where she needed it most. He pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, the question on his face clearer than words, and it took only the tiniest nod of answer from Hermione before he thrust into her, filling her the way only he could.
They set a frantic pace together, both desperate for the other after so long, and Hermione knew neither of them would last long at this rate, though she didn't much care. It felt amazing to be with Ron again this way; he knew everything she liked, all the right ways to touch her, and when he slipped a hand between them to rub her just above where they were joined, she was done for. The waves of pleasure rolled over her, and she let out a strangled cry of Ron's name as she felt him shudder and release inside her. He dropped his head to her shoulder with a groan, both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their high.
After a moment, Ron rolled to the side of her, flopping onto his back as the grin stretched wide across his face. "Bloody brilliant," he said happily. Hermione smiled back at him and cast a quick cleaning charm on them both before tucking into his side, her fingertips tracing patterns in his freckles.
"I hope you didn't have any spy games planned for us this afternoon, because I may not be willing to leave this bed," Hermione replied seriously. Ron grimaced slightly.
"As tempting as that sounds, I actually have a bit of news on the mission."
Hermione sat up slightly to reach for her wand again and summoned the room service menu from the dinette table in the sitting room, handing it to Ron with a kiss. "So we'll stay in bed, and you can tell me about it over lunch."