CHAPTER 6: Bloody Beautiful
RON
This was going eons better than he'd dared to hope for. Now, he found himself standing well inside the confines of Hermione's personal bubble, doing everything he could to keep them on the track they were slowly but surely moving down. She looked so small under him like this - it triggered some sort of primal, uber-masculine urge of his to scoop her up into his arms and let her know with his actions rather than his admittedly sub-par words that he could take care of her.
Ironically, that was exactly the sort of thing Hermione Granger would scoff at…but looking at her now, all red-cheeked and batting lashes, he was pretty bloody sure she'd be singing a different tune.
The fact that the other girls in Hermione's year noticed him was something. If he were honest with himself, which he rarely was, he'd have to admit that much of his motivation towards getting physically bigger was rooted in slight jealousy of Harry's fame. Of course, he knew Harry didn't ask for it. His best friend's fame came under shite circumstances, to say the absolute least. Still, being cast aside as the sidekick all the time was tough. Ron was only human, and five years of it had begun to grate on him. Not enough to ever drop Harry, mind. No, that was his best mate - but would he mind being the one girls craned their necks to get a look at for once? Absolutely.
Standing here with Hermione put things into perspective because she was the other, arguably bigger part of why he'd gone out of his way to bulk up. While she'd never admit it, simple observation told him that she had a type, with Victor Krum standing in as Exhibit A. The mere thought of Hermione looking at any other bloke beside him made him nauseous, and as thick as he could be, even Ron couldn't deny that there was significance to that.
At the end of the day, the fact that Lavender and Pavarti thought he was fit made him puff his chest up proudly, but it had nothing, nothing on how Hermione looking at him like she'd skip the bloody O.W.L.'s for the chance to jump his bones. It was official; he was doing everything right.
Making a mental note to ask her to teach him how to cast that weight-increasing charm effectively, he blinked and returned to the task at hand - driving Hermione mad.
He smirked down at her and inhaled deeply before he lifted one arm and oh-so-nonchalantly scratched at the back of his neck, making sure to flex his bicep in the process. He was validated for his suavity with a little squeak from the witch blushing up at him. In response, he simply chuckled and tried to ignore the way his cock throbbed under his pants, which, mercifully enough, weren't terribly tight…although that situation was changing by the second.
"Come on, 'Mione. You're a girl; your opinion matters way more than Harry's."
He grinned at that tell-tale flash of anger that blazed behind those gorgeous brown eyes. Bloody hell, she was gorgeous when she got heated. In all honesty, that was probably the reason he teased her so much. While terrifying, her wrath was worth watching her when she got especially passionate. He gulped, thinking of all the other ways to get her riled and passionate… Merlin, help him.
"Really, Ronald? I thought you'd discovered that I am, in fact, a girl last year when you tried to ask me to the ball." She folded her arms - rather adorably - under her breasts, hiking them up in a way that had to be unintentional. It had to be. Hermione wasn't the type to use her… assets to whittle him down like this. His gaze dropped to her tits, and his mouth went dry, the response he'd been working through evaporating as quickly as it came to him.
"As hard as it must still be for you to believe, other people are perfectly aware that I'm a girl and don't feel the need to call attention to it at every opportunity" She paused, clearly choosing words that would match venom she insinuated Ron meant by calling attention to her femininity. "Viktor, for one, treated me as such without ever having to announce my gender to the room."
That did it. Ron furrowed his brow and leaned down, his voice coming out at first in a gravely growl. "I know you're a girl, Hermione." His eyes darted to her chest once more. "It'd be impossible not to know." He added, echoing her earlier sentiment in a way that made her face flush a new shade of red.
"Ron!" Her lips parted indignantly, and he could tell she was on the verge of a storm out.
"What?" He quipped back, reaching out to gently press his hand to her shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to make it clear that he wanted her rooted to the spot. "If you're allowed to notice me, how come I can't notice you back? Seems only fair, doesn't it?"
Hermione sputtered a weak attempt at a rebuttal that sounded like, "It's not the same…"
"Isn't it, though? Ron replied, his thumb running over her collarbone over the material of her sweater. "Anyways, I'm just agreeing with you. You are a girl and a bloody beautiful one at that." He sighed, relishing the way she couldn't take her eyes off him. "I'll admit I'm not experienced at treating you like one, or anyone that way, for that matter… S'not an excuse, but still…you're a damn good instructor, and this is a subject I think I could actually stay awake for, assuming you're the one teaching it."
Hermione raised a row up at Ron, and it could've been his imagination, but he was pretty sure she'd scooted forward a little bit. "You want me to teach you…how to treat a girl like a girl, Ron?" She smirked curiously up at him, and he almost felt his sudden tenacity drained from that alone. He blinked and regained his composure thanks to how he knew she responded to him combined with a bit of authoritativeness.
"Nah. I want you to teach me how to treat you like a girl." Her eyes widened up at him, and Ron seized that momentary vulnerability by the horns. "You're not just any girl, 'Mione. Neither of us is daft, as we've already covered, so we both know that much. Learning how to act around girls is like getting an 'Exceeds Expectations,' but I know you well enough to know it's gonna take someone 'Outstanding' to be good enough for you." Hermione brought a hand to her mouth and giggled, but Ron pressed on. "And rightfully fucking so. You deserve nothing less, and I'm sorry, but Vicky didn't make the cut."
"And you think you do?" Hermione retorted, but her expression was soft, telling him everything he needed to know.
"Not yet, no - but even a hopeless git like me can shine with the right teacher guiding him."
"We'll see, won't we?" Hermione said in that pretty, soft voice of hers that drove him barmy.
"I bloody hope so, fuck." He was losing his grip on the situation. Those big, beautiful eyes, looking up at him like he was a damn God, would be his downfall. He gulped hard and inched his hand closer to the side of her neck, thumbing at her chin affectionately.
"I never did answer your question, by the way…"
"Hmm?"
Hermione giggled and bit her plush, lightly glossed bottom lip. "You asked me what part of you is the most noticeable. Aren't you still interested in an answer? It's all in the name of progress, after all, isn't it? What sort of teacher would I be if I didn't encourage that?"
Ron blinked heavily at her and gave his head a little shake. "Right…right. Go on then; what's your favorite?" He huffed out a labored breath - bloody fucking shite; her hand was moving up his thigh, tripping over the waistband of his pants to slither under the thin fabric of his hand top. "Hermione…" He groaned deeply, his cock hardening instantly. He flexed his abs as hard as he could as her delicate fingers roamed over them.
She hummed approvingly and kept going, the redness of her cheeks betraying the boldness of her actions. Stopping right under the beginning of his chest, she wet her lips and batted those lashes up at him. "I think my point will be more effectively made if this is…off." He gulped and thanked Merlin a million times over that he didn't just instantly rip it off because she gave him a final little "Please?" that just about ruined him.
"Y-Yeah…sounds about…right." He grunted, crossing his arms over his front to whip the fabric off. He struggled to peel it off his body in his frantic eagerness to do so, but he eventually discarded it carelessly to the side, leaving him shirtless above her.
"Oh, wow…" Hermione managed, her confidence tapering at the sight, practically transferring right over to Ron in the process. It seemed like they could never be equally bold with each other. If Ron was cocky, she was meek and speechless - if she was fiery and assertive, he was too turned on to string a sentence together. Now, it was his turn to take the reigns.
"Actions speak louder than words, Hermione… If you wanna use your mouth to show me what you like, I won't complain." The hand gently caressing her neck tentatively moved to the back of her head, and then, when it was clear she was more than okay with their current trajectory, he drew her close to him, prompting her to press a lingering kiss to his abs. "Fuck…" He hissed, looking down at her over the swell of his heaving pecs. "All yours, Hermione… God damn…"
Taking her cue, Hermione slowly rose from the bed and dragged her tongue up the length of Ron's torso, her hands moving in tandem to grope at his pecs, tweaking his nipples teasingly as her tongue lapped a broad, worshipful stripe right up the middle of his chest. "Your chest… Mmm, it's a close tie between that and your arms." As she spoke, her hands smoothed up to his shoulders and ran down to grip his triceps, her left thumb tracing a prominent vein that stood out under his smooth skin along the peak of his bicep.
"G-Good to know," Ron said, nodding dumbly, their eyes meeting with unbridled intensity. His blue irises fell on her lips, wet from her nervously worrying them together. He needed them on his own more than he'd ever needed anything else.
Reaching behind himself with his free hand, he withdrew his wand from his back pocket and quickly whispered, "Accio, mistletoe." He knew there was some hung out in the hallway just before the stairs. Sure enough, the sprig came zooming into his slightly opened door, and efficiently, Ron stopped in in its tracks and executed that God-forsaken levitation charm - articulating the incantation properly - (Wingardium Leviosa), earning him a knowing smile from Hermione - to fix the mistletoe to the rafters above them.
His hands slid from the back of her head down her back to the arched spot just above her ass. He hoisted her up easily, letting her brace herself on his chest. She was a good head shorter than him, so what happened next required some stooping, but it was worth it. Beyond worth it.
Before he lost his nerve, Ron leaned down and enthusiastically sealed his lips against hers.
There was no going back now. They were at the point of no return, and all Ron could do was hope Hermione would let him take it as far as he wanted because even with their tongues clashing passionately in the space between their mouths, he felt like he couldn't get close enough to her, especially with the clothes they both still had on…
