Almost, But Not Quite

Hermione blinked into awareness, realising that she was alone in the bed. She heard the shower running. Good, I have a moment, then.

Stretching, she was puzzled by tugs and pulls in her arms and legs. What? He didn't... we didn't..., but then she remembered the glorious spasms that had gripped every muscle in her body, sending waves rippling outwards to her fingertips and toes, only to recede, gather, and surge outward again.

Fascinating.

She'd never been one for sex...or for fooling around, for that matter. Her first kisses had come from Viktor Krum. Three years older than she, highly experienced (by his own admission), he'd placed her on a pedestal. For all Ginny's boasting that she, Hermione, had snogged Viktor, the truth was that his kisses had been frustratingly chaste. She had no doubt that, had they continued with their relationship, she'd have been completely untouched until her wedding night.

Ron had been an entirely different kettle of fish. For all his experience snogging Lavender, he seemed content to substitute enthusiasm for technique. His kisses had been wet and aggressive and bruising, just as everything else had been as their relationship had progressed. When they'd finally had sex, on the night she left Hogwarts, she'd been left shaken and unstirred.

Ron had had a lovely time, though; during the next six months, he'd contrived to repeat the experience as often as humanly possible. Hermione had developed a habit of casting cushioning charms whenever she sat; she needed them because of the regular affectionate battering she took from Ron. As her Muggle friend Jessica had said one night over drinks, "It's insert tab A into slot B, wiggle it around a bit, and get to listen to strange noises, look at really odd facial contortions, and deal with a wet spot. My only question is, what's in it for me, really?"

Hermione had realised that she couldn't agree more and had moved out of the flat she shared with Ron the very next day.

~oOo~

While Hermione was finishing her Hogwarts education, Severus Snape had been recovering at St Mungo's. He'd been discharged six months after the Battle of Hogwarts with an Order of Merlin and a Ministry stipend to his credit. Rather than retire to Spinner's End to drink himself to death as a decent wizard would do (his words, not hers), he'd stripped the house and sold it to a company planning the regentrification of the area, using the funds to purchase a small flat from which he launched his business.

Charming Brews was an instant success. Of course, his status as Tragic Hero accounted for much of that (and made him quite a hit with the ladies, as well, but Hermione wasn't supposed to know about that). Kingsley Shacklebolt had made the Ministry his first customer, signing a contract for him to do charms development for the Aurory. St Mungo's had followed, asking whether he'd be interested in adapting existing potions for more targeted use. He'd hired Hermione right out of school, and she'd done well in speaking to prospective clients and identifying new opportunities. It had been Hermione who'd suggested that the Muggle-born market would buy electronics if they could be charmed to work in the wizarding world. The two resulting patents...for the Ekeltricketty and Ekeltronicks Charms...had been registered in her name and were the currency she used to buy into the business. They'd expanded into the house in wizarding London right before she'd broken up with Ron. It had only made sense for both of them to live where they worked, as they spent so much time there and money, while flowing steadily, was not yet plentiful.

Their working relationship was curious. Never once had he been "Professor Snape" with her, instead always treating her as an equal. He challenged her, of course, and could be enormously critical, but he'd never crossed the line into the personal. When she and Ron had split up, he'd been sympathetic but hadn't pried.

As inventors and developers, they'd tapped into their competitive natures. Each step in a process became a race to create the best, the fastest. They developed their innovations in common workshops, working back-to-back, casting wordless charms, stirring silently, then meeting every night to discuss their successes and failures. Every charm devised, every potion developed in the years since she'd become his partner was a joint effort, and each lucrative patent reflected that fact.

The truth was, each could afford to live separately, in very comfortable accommodations, but it didn't occur to either of them to move. They were partners and they were friends.

They spent alternating holidays with each other's families... Christmas at the Malfoys could only be equalled...in Hermione's mind, at least...by Severus spending the following Yule with the Weasleys. Somehow, Australia became neutral ground, and their trips to visit her parents were greeted with relief by both parties.

Yes, they'd holidayed together. They'd lived together and worked together and become close friends. But they'd never touched one another in any way other than casually. They'd never looked sideways, wondering, What would it be like?

Until now.

She suddenly felt as if blinkers had been taken away from her eyes. After last night, she had a pretty good idea what it would be like, and she wanted to know it... feel it... and, even if she didn't quite like all of it, own it.

This was her chance, and she wasn't about to let go.

~oOo~

Severus pushed the control to turn the shower off, standing beneath a magical jet of air which whisked the water from his body and dried his hair in the style he'd worn when he had first entered the stateroom yesterday. Another one of our charms, he thought with satisfied irritation. We're going to have to check to make sure everything is licensed appropriately. I'd hate to be missing out on the income.

As he dressed, he heard Hermione moving around in the stateroom and the issue he'd been forcing from his thoughts rushed immediately to the fore. What was he going to do about Hermione?

He hadn't thought of her as anything other than his friend and partner before yesterday, he was certain of it. He was equally certain that he wouldn't be able to think of her just in that way ever again.

She'd been beautiful last night; open and honest in her passion. She hadn't been pretending. She knew him: Severus Snape. She spent almost every waking moment with him, and she had wanted him.

And now... now, he wanted more than just last night. Now, he wanted every night. He wanted to possess her fully, know every secret.

Whose secret desire had the room read, when it had configured itself for them? It didn't matter, really. Not at all. Because, after last night, it was no longer a secret desire.

No, there was no going back at all.

~oOo~

Hermione looked up and smiled as Severus exited the steamy bathroom. "The door's open... we can leave any time we like."

"Are you in a hurry?" His deep voice shivered through her.

"No, not at all! I'd like to wash up a bit, then head down to breakfast soon, though. I'm famished!"

"At some point, we'll need to talk. Privately. Because I'd like to know what you'd like to do about tonight." He gestured with his head towards the dark and quiet television set. "I believe they mentioned that there was a plan for this evening, too."

"Yes," she said, and grinned roguishly. "Titties. I can't wait!"

With that, she whisked into the loo, closing the door firmly behind herself.

As she heard the click, she fist-punched the air.

~oOo~

They avoided Brad and Brianna all day, instead spending time lounging by the pool in the bright sunlight, covered with a strong sunblock potion of their own devising. Hermione looked healthier today, he decided.

Mid-afternoon, Hermione excused herself for several hours. She'd made an appointment in the ship's salon and said she'd meet him back in the room to get ready for dinner. As she left, she'd bent and kissed him on the cheek. Severus had smiled at her, advised her not to spend too much money, and returned to his book.

He knew she'd had nothing scheduled when they boarded, which meant that she'd called the salon this morning. After last night. Before tonight. His inner self fist-punched the air in triumph.

~oOo~

Izzy was nowhere in sight when he returned to their stateroom to change for dinner and the evening's lecture. The bed remained singular. Hermione had not yet arrived, but when she did, her eyes had flicked immediately to the bed. From the corner of his eye, Severus saw Hermione note its unchanged nature and smile. He had difficulty hiding his own satisfaction.

Dinner was spectacular. The Oceanic Life film which followed dinner was less so. As they had joked, it was all about the sex lives of sentient magical sea creatures: merpeople and selkies, yes, but there were some truly pornographic segments about Neptune, as well. Severus noted a number of people shifting in their seats, Hermione among them. Severus began to look forward to a very pleasurable night.

They just made it back to their stateroom when midnight struck. Severus heard the door lock behind them. "Now, that's an aspect of this entire thing I don't like, and I believe I'll have a word with Management about it."

"Fine," agreed Hermione, heading for the bed, across which was stretched a lovely, ivory lace gown. Gathering it up, she made for the loo, turning in the doorway. "But not tonight."

"No," he said. "Not tonight." He began to unbutton his shirt, eyes fixed on her. "I have other plans for tonight."

"Good," she smiled. Then, motioning with her hand, she asked, "Up or down?"

"What?" he sputtered.

"My hair. Up? Or Down?"

"Oh." He looked at her for a moment, considering. Then he looked at the screen, remembering the way she had looked with her hair spread across the pillows. He strode to the bed, yanking back the coverlet to expose the sheet. Crimson.

"Down."

~oOo~

She was outrageously nervous while she waited for him to emerge from the bathroom.

Come on, Hermione, she chided herself. It's not like you're a virgin. And this is Severus. He's already proven he's a better lover than Ron. And you're far more attracted to him than you ever were to Ron. And anyway, we'll have help. She eyed the dark screen. Maybe.

The television had been stubbornly silent as she'd waited. Although, looking at herself in the mirror as she'd changed, she'd regretted taking the advice of Carrie and friends. It had been expensive, it had been embarrassing, it had hurt, and it looked odd. She sighed.

Maybe he wouldn't notice. Maybe he wouldn't get there at all tonight.

The bathroom door opened and the room's lights dimmed. Saxophone music began to purr from the stereo system.

As Severus slid between the sheets and turned to her, the television switched on.

Severus and Hermione! Welcome to Night Two of your Customised Couples Programming! Tonight's programme is called The Sky's the Limit, because you're allowed to do anything your hearts' desire. Touch each other wherever you like. Except for one or two Forbidden Acts, that is... Your trainers will explain! Before I go, I wish you as happy and fulfilling a night as last night, courtesy of Wizarding Waves!

Television!Hermione-and-Severus appeared on the screen. She was wearing a nightdress identical to Hermione's, while Television!Severus appeared to be wearing nothing at all. Hermione's jaw dropped when she saw what she'd been coveting all day.

"Is... is that..." she whispered.

"True to life? Yes." He murmured in her ear. "We'll take it slowly. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Ron was... less. And it was very uncomfortable. And... they don't seem to want to go slowly at all."

Television!Hermione had gotten straight to business while they were whispering to one another, crouching before her partner and taking him fully into her mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Bed!Severus snarled. "You two, back off a bit. We're going for slow and romantic, here. Not Bang!Bang!Barbie!"

~oOo~

Television!Severus glared at his other self as his lover had sat back on her heels, releasing him from her mouth with an audible pop. Finally, with a brief nod, he pulled her between his spread legs, back to his chest, and began running his fingers lightly over the smooth flesh that rose above the swell of her breasts. "Is this better?" he asked sarcastically.

"Much," snarled Severus, shifting behind his Hermione and following suit, using his chin to shift aside a mass of curls so he could run his lips along the sensitive cord of her neck while murmuring to her how beautiful she was, how much he desired her, and how perfect everything would be.

"Before you get too wrapped up in each other," Television!Hermione said resentfully, "I want to share tonight's rules with you. As our Announcer said, you may do anything, touch anywhere, with two exceptions: no penetration tonight...front or back. Oral is fine, though, as you saw."

Severus ignored her. They'd follow the rules... there was no telling what the room would do to them if they didn't. But Severus would be damned if he'd spend another evening listening to her, obeying her instructions. He'd pay attention to his Hermione, instead.

His fingertips trailed into the valley between her breasts, avoiding the sensitive peaks altogether as they travelled down to roam across her belly, catching and pulling the lacy fabric as they moved, dragging it taut across her nipples, then releasing, then tautening again.

A long, low moan came from the telly, echoed more softly by a shuddering moan from the woman in his arms.

"Touch me," she gasped. "Touch me, please."

He dared a glance at the screen. His counterpart already had his partner's bodice down and was fondling both breasts freely, rolling the nipples between his fingertips while his mouth sucked at her throat. Severus looked at the witch in his arms; her eyes were glued to the scene before her, her lips parted and moist.

He moved his hands to her arms, now, sliding them slowly upwards until they reached the thin straps that held her bodice then, sliding his index fingers under each, pulled them slowly downward, exposing her millimetre by millimetre to his gaze. The lacy edge caught on her hard nipples, and he paused, looking down over her shoulder, breathing heavily at the sight of the perfection of flesh against the fabric, the curve of creamy skin echoed by the smaller arc of her deep pink aureole. Then, a tiny tug downwards, and her nipple popped free. At the sight, his control broke for a moment, and he let go of the straps, trapping her tightly against him with his arms crossed in front of her, his hands roughly squeezing, kneading, his mouth ravenous on her shoulder.

She gave a cry and his grip loosened.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "I..."

"No, no, Severus," she said urgently, turning in his arms to kneel before him. "You don't understand. How can you, when I don't even understand? I liked it. I've liked everything you've done to me, even though I've never liked any of it before. And I want to do more." She peeled the straps down her arms, leaving the gown bunched around her hips, baring her breasts and belly to him.

Taking his right hand in her left, she pulled it to her breast while caressing his own chest with her right hand. "Tell me... does it feel as wonderful when I do this to you?" She pinched a nipple, rolling it between her fingers and repeating the action with her other hand.

"Yes," he said, feeling his loins catch fire as he used both hands to stimulate her, lifting, pinching, rolling. Finally, he leaned forward and sucked, drawing another cry from her...one he now recognised as a cry of passion and need. Both of her hands came to the back of his head and pressed him tightly to her. He licked, he sucked, he gently bit... and her breathing grew harsher, the pressure of her hands more urgent. He pulled away, running his tongue up her body and over her throat as he pulled her even closer. Her head fell back to give him full access, and he took advantage, licking and sucking at the pulse, eliciting cries and moans and passionate whispers. He lifted his head. Television!Severus-and-Hermione were staring at them open-mouthed from the screen. Checking to make certain that his lover's eyes remained closed, he reached for the remote, pointed it, and clicked the television off.

Now, the only light in the room came from the balcony door, and it was dim, indeed. Still, Severus could see her lips, parted with her quick breaths, and the sweep of her lashes lying just above her cheekbones.

"Lie back, Hermione," he whispered, pushing her sideways across the bed.

She lay quiescent, trembling, waiting for him to lead her further into passion. He kissed her deeply, passionately, coaxing her tongue into an eager duel as his hands roamed freely down her torso to her hip, bunching the lace of her nightgown in his hand, and pulling it up to expose her totally to his touch.

When he slid his hand into the soft flesh between her thighs, he was shocked and unbearably excited to find her entirely bare. Nothing shielded her from him. He ran his fingers along her moist folds and shuddered with barely-contained lust. Ripping his mouth from hers, he put it to her ear, whispering, "Did you do that today?"

"Yes," she gasped, as his knee pushed between her thighs and he pressed his pyjama-covered erection hard against her hip.

He growled. "Did you do that for me?"

"Yes," she moaned, as his finger found and probed, pushing as far into her as he could go.

"Do you like this?" he purred, as his thumb found her naked clitoris and began pressing lightly, circling.

"Yes!" she cried, lifting her hips, pressing herself against that maddening hand, that tantalising, terrifying hardness.

"Good."

His lips began their journey back downwards. He took his time, biting and suckling at her throat, her breasts, her navel, always keeping the rhythm of his thrusting finger and circling thumb regular, steady. Keeping his aching cock in contact with her hip, her thigh, her calf, until the moment when he crouched between her thighs, looking at her most intimate flesh in the dimness, watching as she strained upward against his hand, and thinking, Perfect.

"Perfect."

He didn't realise he was going to speak until he heard the word hanging in the air between them. And in the next second, he dove through it, bringing his mouth to her open, welcoming, forbidden places in a caress that shocked him as much as it did her.

"Perfect," he said again, his lips playing across her flesh, his breath finding and entering her alongside his finger.

And then he consumed her, feasted on her until her body was wracked with volcanic spasms and her sobbing cries split the night. And as he crouched, aching, above her panting, trembling body, he heard her gasp one word.

"Perfect."

~oOo~

Hermione felt her heartbeat ease somewhat and found that she could move again. She looked down her body to see him looking up at her, dark eyes gleaming hotly, lips parted with his quick, shallow breaths. She thought he hadn't come... she knew he hadn't come... and, despite her past failures, she knew she could do no less than return to him the pleasure he'd given her. Tenfold, if possible.

"Come," she croaked, beckoning him up her body, gathering him close as he moved above her. "No sex, right?"

"No sex," he confirmed, his voice a deep purr. She felt him straining at her core and lifted to rub her silken, wet flesh against the burning ridge beneath his pyjamas.

"Then..." For the second night in a row, she pushed him onto his back, rising to straddle him, look down at him. Struggled with the fabric bunched around her waist, pulling it up over her breasts, over her head, she flung it aside, then bent to kiss him. She moved lower, then, duplicating the path he had taken, licking and biting his nipples, combing her nails through the hair on his chest, lower still across his belly, pausing at his navel, then looking up into those deep, hot eyes as she peeled the pyjama pants away from his cock and down his legs, pulling them free and then tossing them to join her nightgown.

She crept back up between his legs, making a place for herself. She knew he was holding himself absolutely still, submitting to her wishes, not daring to move lest he frighten her away.

She smiled as she approached his cock.

It twitched and seemed to stretch to meet her tongue as she ran it along the underside, swirling it slightly as she reached the tip. Tasting him... scenting him... as he had tasted and scented her.

He groaned.

She slid one hand around his base, grasping him lightly, then increasing the pressure until she heard another pleasure sound escape his lips. She took the entire tip of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue and suckling as she moved her hand up and down, bringing the other to explore his already-tight balls.

His hands tunnelled into her hair, then gripped helplessly as, on the next downstroke of her hand, she followed, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. Slowly, ever so slowly, she moved back up, hand pressed against her lips, tightening the pressure of her grip, increasing the power of her suction as she went.

He was moaning above her. Babbling endearments and obscenities. Is that what I sounded like? she wondered as she lifted her mouth from his cock, letting the cool night air bathe the glistening, weeping tip as her hand travelled inexorably back downward. Then upward. Then downward again. She blew gently against over the slit, then dipped her tongue in delicately, gathering his essence. His body jerked uncontrollably, and she moved the hand that had been caressing and rolling his balls to his hip, pressing to hold him still.

"There, there," she whispered, letting the words play across the swollen, needy flesh. "I'm here."

His cock twitched again in her hand. He was almost there, she could tell, and it would be cruel to deny him. Moistening her lips, she bent back to him, taking all of him in that she could, moving her head and hand in unison until he pulled wildly at her hair, trying to pull her away, losing control, spilling endlessly into her.

She drank him. Joyously, as he'd drunk her.

And she heard him say, at that final moment, "Hermione."

And it meant "perfect".