wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2009-03-13 23:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, hermione, ofc, ron |
Special Delivery For: kristy76063
Title: Gap Year
Author: florahart
Recipient's IJ/LJ name: kristy76063
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Ron/OFC, past Ron/Hermione
Word Count: 1600
Warnings (if any): semi-public sex
Summary: When Hermione broke up with me, I was a little surprised, but there's something to be said for a gap year.
Author's notes: for Kristy76063, who asked for Ron/OFC, voyeurism, self pleasure, shower, public sex. Thanks to R for the quickie beta.
There's really no polite way to explain how I got myself into this.
It all started when Hermione broke up with me--I mean, I thought we were forever, right?
But she said she wanted to go to university and I didn't want to wait for her to get done thinking, which we had a bit of a row about, and I was busy having training adventures with Harry and helping out George, and we were having a hard time finding time for each other.
I know, stupid, trying to hold her back, and then not even finding time for her. She's never been one to sit back and allow herself to be pushed aside, and it's not as if I don't know it. But I just thought it was a rough patch and we'd get past it.
But then she said no, we should stay friends, and if we were supposed to be forever, we'd find ourselves back together again.
I did manage to bite my tongue before I said something totally idiotic, like how that sounded like mysticism or Divination or something. But I did say I thought she must just want freedom to mess about with university boys.
All right, so maybe my tongue-biting reflexes could use some work.
I swear I didn't mean to suggest she was some sort of slag. I don't even think that! I didn't think it when it turned out I wasn't quite her first, which was a little bit surprising to me, but she wasn't quite mine either, so that wouldn't be fair, and okay, I'm sometimes kind of an idiot, but I do like to think I'm usually pretty fair-minded.
At least, I want to be.
So it wasn't that. At all.
I was just surprised, and sort of upset, because I thought we were supposed to be forever.
Yes, since then I've been disabused of the notion that forever comes without any exertion on the part of the foreverees. Bill rolled his eyes at me and Mum cuffed my ears and even Charlie, whose life goals, as far as relationships are concerned, fall all the way on the other end of the scale from forever, told me I was being a complete ass.
And then Fleur, thankfully, explained, and of course by then Hermione was off to her studies and it was a little late to change anything.
Which was just as well; when I said as much, Fleur told me I should take the time as a sort of gift. Like, that I should figure out why we were supposed to be right for each other. Get some negative examples. Maybe I'd surprise myself, and if we were really supposed to get back together, I'd have evidence on my side.
Not very romantic, the notion of presenting evidence in order to demonstrate the kind of bond I thought we already knew we had, but then, this is Hermione. She's a little bit inclined toward research and empirical data and whatnot.
Which is how I wound up with Grace.
She's one of those stick-thin types, no tits to speak of, with more shoes than she could possibly wear in a year and no idea who the current Minister is. She was a Hufflepuff, but I think she didn't bother with any NEWTs; she works at the front counter of an ice-cream shop in Leeds.
See, my notion was, I'd find someone that was really, really not like Hermione. Not Lavender; like it or not, she did have some things in common with Hermione, after six years as roommates. Plus, Lav knows me and Hermione and our history and stuff, and I don't want to encourage the kind of dramatic insanity that would happen.
So I did what any smart bloke would do: I went to a pub and got a little drunk, then took home the first girl that seem not at all like Hermione.
All right, I know, this plan had flaws. But being a little drunk did allow me to not feel too weird about looking around on purpose for a girl who was not what I basically know I want. It's a little horrible of me, to find a girl knowing I fundamentally can't like her very much, just for life experience fucking.
Fortunately, Grace loves to fuck.
I mean, I think it's her main life plan.
Like, most people have a plan that goes: get NEWTs, get a job at the Ministry, get married, have kids. Or: leave school, learn the culinary arts, become a famous chef, live happily ever after with cats and an enormous and well-stocked kitchen; or: hare off to Romania and raise and study dragons until one scorches you. Or some other plan that has some sort of progression.
Grace's plan, from what I can tell without actually talking about it very deeply, goes like this: wake up, fuck, go to minimally-paying but undemanding job all day, go out to dinner, fuck (possibly during dinner), talk about fucking and innovations in fucking and improved notions regarding fucking, shower and sleep, do it all again the next day.
No, seriously. She's not exactly slutty--I mean, she doesn't sleep around; all the fucking is with me, for the time being--she's just really focused on doing one thing as often as possible. It's like Hermione and reading, in a way, only I can't say I've ever come in my pants from watching Hermione's fingers on the page of a book.
But that's neither here nor there. The point is, she just doesn't have any other goals, and is perfectly happy with this life, which, since I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually care about it being my cock she's riding, means she's perfect as a first negative example.
On the plus side, I very much doubt when Hermione and I get back together she won't be pleasantly surprised by all the ways I now know to make her come.
Not that I plan to explain Grace's experimental method of teaching me.
Take tonight.
We went to a show, one of the preview ones at WADA that's cheap and sometimes not quite ready. Doesn't matter, since her favorite thing to do in a theater is sit in the back and get me as hot and bothered as possible without attracting any negative attention from the ushers. In this case, that involved a totally inappropriate charm constricting and releasing around my balls.
Now that, I could probably have handled. I mean, I’d have been hard for half the bloody show, and we'd have fucked against the wall in the dark in the nearest convenient alley, but then she leaned over and told me she'd used the same charm on herself.
Which left me wondered what, exactly, it was doing.
Which led to me glancing over at her every few minutes.
Which led to me watching her hips move, making the seat creak.
Which led to me deciding I didn't care that much about the opinions of the ushers. I cared enough to wait for the nearest one to walk down toward the stage, but that was it.
Two seconds later I had my fingers inside her, my thumb crushing her clit, my other hand clapped over her mouth while she came.
Yeah, we left at intermission.
It wasn't dark yet, really, but there was no way I could focus to Apparate, and no chance I was going to survive walking anywhere.
She just laughed and said she didn't mind if anyone saw and dragged me into the alley anyway.
I'm nearly sure I'm never going to use this particular lesson with Hermione, since I can't imagine she'd be into having me press her against a rough brick wall with one hand while I unzipped my trousers with the other, and then wrapping her legs around me and sliding down onto me, soaking wet and slick, her hair catching on the brick, her nipples pressing against her shirt until she yanked open the collar and squeezed them herself.
I have no idea whether anyone saw us, though I can't imagine no one heard. I mean, she wasn't very quiet, and my hands were busy holding up her arse and balancing us against the wall. We didn't leave the alley after I came, though, just Apparated back to her place with my cock still inside her, so I didn't get a look around to see if anyone noticed.
She's in the shower at the moment, and I'm gathering my thoughts, because even for the things I won't use with Hermione, I do like to keep mental notes, of sorts.
Plus, it helps to stay awake if I keep my mind active, and there's a decent chance if I'm still awake when she comes out of the shower, I'll get a blow job.
Unless she's really in a mood; she might want to go at it on all fours, or over the kitchen table, or levitating off the bed. I never know.
So far, what I've learned, for the record, is that fucking is a lot of fun, but it's not really much of a relationship. I doubt I can stand it more than another couple of months, but by then, maybe I'll have found someone else not at all like Hermione. Maybe a bird that likes Quidditch and oral or something. Though I'm taking suggestions.
Harry says I should find someone willing to wear a strap-on. I'm really, really sure I don't want to think too hard about that, but it's on my list, in case it comes up.
And there's the water shutting off. I'll let you know what I learn.