AN: For Adenei who requested a Romione drabble with the line: "Want to find out what we can get away with before someone comes looking for us?"

Ron & Hermione try and steal a moment at the Burrow.

Molly and Arthur had to switch up the regular Sunday Roast dinners for a monthly BBQ. They had no other choice—the Weasley brood had increased so much, they couldn't all fit around the table anymore. Come rain or shine (and given the weather in Devon, it was mostly raining), the old marquee went up, and Arthur cooked burgers and sausages on his muggle barbecue.

Ron glanced around the garden, missing the bushy head of his wife, who was nowhere to be found. He narrowed his eyes as he searched again before glancing up at the house, finally spotting her at the top of the Burrow in his old bedroom window, waving down at him with a wicked smile. He checked on the kids, who were happily harassing Charlie, before heading up to her.

"I've been waiting up here for a while. I was starting to consider sending you a note with Pig!" The door shut behind Ron with a flick of Hermione's wand, and he felt a grin creep over his face.

Ron took two steps towards her. She looked stunning against the fiery orange of his bedroom walls. "What are you doing up here, anyway?" It was a question that he didn't need to ask; his body was already responding to the hungry look in her eyes.

"Want to find out what we can get away with before someone comes looking for us?" Hermione's voice was low and loaded with passion, and Ron didn't need to asking twice. He closed the gap between them quickly, seeking out her lips in a heated kiss. They'd been at this for years by now, and he knew what he needed to do.

His tongue invaded her mouth as he trailed his hands down her sides. Ron's fingers found the edge of her skirt, and he pushed it up expertly, using one hand to clamp it around her waist.

Carefully, he pushed her back towards his childhood bed, moaning against her lips as their tongues continued to dance against each others. Eventually, Hermione's legs hit the wooden frame, and Ron tore his lips from hers as he pushed her unceremoniously down onto the duvet.

He couldn't stop the laugh from escaping his lips as she wriggled out of her knickers, practically throwing them at him. He pocketed them to keep them safe.

"You're keen!"

"You're complaining?" She cocked an eyebrow, sending a pule of pleasure straight to his cock. He was uncomfortably hard now, but she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"Not at all." Hermione expected him to penetrate her; he could see it in the wanton look in her eyes. Instead, he dropped to his knees on the floor beside the bed. She looked confused until he slid his tongue between her folds.

"Merlin, Ron." He fed at her clit, putting every learnt technique into practice. She let out a louder moan, her lips lifting from the bed and her thighs clamping around his ears. He lifted his face, momentarily for breath. "Shh, or we'll get caught!"

The look of her flushed face on top of his old Chudley Cannons duvet spurred him on. He continued his assault with his tongue, eventually letting two fingers join it. He gripped her thigh in a vain attempt to stop her from suffocating him.

Hermione groaned his name, although this time it was muted by the hand clamped over her mouth. By the way she was squirming, she was nearing completion. If he moved quickly, maybe he'd be able to get a shag out of her too. The fingers of her spare hand slid into his red hair, and he knew she wouldn't be able to take much more.

Ron was so absorbed in bringing her to completion that he didn't hear the footsteps on the rickety wooden staircase. Suddenly, the door was flung open, and he pushed himself quickly away from Hermione's body, leaving her to pull her skirt down in an attempt at some form of modesty. She let out an exasperated moan at the lack of contact.

He hazarded a glance at the now opened door. Please, not George or Mum. He could handle the kids, most of them were too young to question what they were up to, and he needed both fingers and toes to count the number of times Rose or Hugo had interrupted them.

Harry was stood in the doorway, his cheeks blushing bright pink. The git was deliberately avoiding looking at Ron and Hermione, like an old maid.

"The food is ready. Molly sent me up here!" Harry closed the door again quickly, and Ron could faintly hear him mumbling about locking spells, and you'd think they would have learnt by now, punctuated by his heavy footsteps.

Ron threw Hermione her pants with a guilty look, but the witch was cackling away on the bed.

"Why is it always, Harry?!" She smoothed down her skirt and offered Ron her wand so he could clean himself up properly. "The poor man must be traumatised by now! Are you coming back down?"

"I may need a few, love." He nodded down at his crotch, grateful that Hermione stopped laughing as she noticed his discomfort.

"Okay, but don't take too long. Save it for later when the kids are in bed, yeah?" She gave him a hard kiss that did nothing to quell his excitement before leaving him alone in his old bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh and started to recall Quidditch stats.