3. Interlude

Disclaimer: JKR, I love you! Thanks for letting me get raunchy with your creation.

...And Temper Begets Pleasure

part trois

~notsosaintly~

A sliver of moonlight snuck in through a window corner, falling across the sleeping form of Neville Longbottom. Ron couldn't sleep. The events of the day kept playing through his mind. By all rights he should have been exhausted, but he was as awake now at midnight as he had been at noon. Groaning in exasperation, he turned over.

A cough caught his attention and he turned his head toward Harry's curtained bed. As far as he knew, sleeping people didn't cough. Sleeping Harrys sure didn't.

"Harry?" Ron whispered, being careful not to wake up the other boys. Seamus and Dean were snoring as they usually did. Neville was a heavy sleeper and, frankly, no good at feigning sleep. He was certain no one else would be listening.

The curtains parted slightly and Harry's eyes peered around the edge. "Yeah?" He sounded slightly annoyed. "What are you still awake for? Go to sleep."

"Can't sleep. I keep thinking about Hermione," Ron admitted, staring at the canopy. Thinking was beginning to be an understatement. Obsessing was more like it.

Harry failed to stifle a sigh. He let the curtain fall back into place and answered from behind the folds, "Me too."

"Harry? Um, what did it...I mean, what did she feel like? When you were...you know, what did it feel like...to be inside of her?" The thought had been nagging him for the last hour. He had felt the gloriousness of her lips around his cock and her sweet tongue as it coaxed his release, and that in itself was a dream come true, but to actually feel what it was like to be buried inside of her...he was painfully aware that Harry had been the first one to experience it.

A quiet moan came from Harry's bed. At first Ron thought Harry wasn't going to answer. The question did sound sort of personal, maybe even a little jealous. Was he jealous? Ron thought for a moment. No, maybe a little envious, but nothing that wouldn't be fixed the next time he was with her for sure. Mmm...the next time. That introduced a whole new set of hormone-sodden visions and a couple of ideas.

"Harry? Come on. Give over and tell me what she felt like." He hoped he didn't sound too needy; he just needed to know.

Harry's voice spanned the scant-metre distance between their beds. He sounded almost breathless with the memory. "She felt, um, tight ... and warm. No ... hot, but in a good way. I could feel her ... gods, it felt like she was squeezing and ... and pulling and ... it just...it felt so ... so good."

Ron had been trying to ignore the feelings thinking about Hermione generally produced, but Harry's voice tore down the last of his defences and he felt himself grow hard at those last words. All right, harder. He had already been battling a semi-erection since he went to bed. He rubbed his forehead. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked. Now all he could think of was how it felt to be touched by her, to be wanted by her, to be held and caressed by her. Blast.

He was about to ask Harry another question when he realized that he could hear his friend breathing softly from behind the curtain, and even though his breath was barely audible, it was coming short and fast. Gods. He had to bring it up, didn't he? Now both of them were in the same predicament.

He had no choice, really, except to finish what he had started...there was no other cure except perhaps a cold shower, but it was already past curfew. His erection strained toward his hand through his pajama bottoms. Pushing down hard against the head and rolling it against his stomach, he figured this was the only way to get some sleep. He thought of closing the curtain, but his bed angled in such a way that only Harry would be able to see him and he doubted Harry was in a position at the moment to look...or even to care for that matter.

He wanted Hermione so badly. He had ever since second year when she had been petrified by the basilisk. He had actually made himself sick with worry at the time and visited her every day after classes and twice a day on weekends. The realisation of what that tight feeling in his chest actually meant had stunned him for a couple days until he got used to it and finally admitted it to himself. When she had finally been brought to rights and released from the infirmary he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. But then, as she came running to join them in the Great Hall, he had been overcome by a sudden bout of shyness.

The opportunity to tell her always seemed to elude him and he had talked himself out of it on more than one occasion. He and Harry had spoken about it often and it turned out they both fancied her quite a bit. Or perhaps Ron's feelings had become a bit contagious; he wasn't quite sure. Nevertheless, the boys found themselves talking more and more about what it would be like to kiss those lips or what those ever-growing breasts looked like under that jumper.

To finally show her...as unplanned as it had been...had been somewhat of a relief and an incredible boost to his ego. Just to expose himself to her and watch her eyes widen and darken in pleasure was encouraging. The knowledge that he had actually caused her to forget to take notes in History of Magic had turned him on even more. But to watch her play with herself as he masturbated and came in front of her was the ultimate high.

Gods, she was so beautiful. He wanted to feel her hands as they wrapped around his cock and slid along its length. Yes ... he wanted to feel the hardness of her tongue as it traced a path from his testicles to the ridge of his penis and played around the edge. Oh, Hermione ... he wanted to feel the head of his cock push against the roof of her mouth and her throat constrict against him as she swallowed. Gods gods gods ... he wanted to place himself at her entrance and feel the slight resistance he always dreamed would be there as he pushed inside of her.

Ron's breaths mimicked the rhythm of his hand as he meditated upon what it would be like to be inside of Hermione. In the bed next to him, the breaths had also become sharper and shorter. Oddly enough, knowing that Harry was in the bed next to him doing the exact same thing excited him further. Suddenly, his hand was not enough. He wanted to feel Hermione beneath him. He wanted to feel the pressure of her walls surrounding his cock. Groaning, he turned onto his stomach and pressed his aching cock into the mattress and thrust his hips as though she were beneath him, as though she were welcoming him into her body.

Yes, that was it...almost. He slid his palm between the mattress and his erection and pressed firmly against it, pushing the tip into the hard heel of his palm. Better. His hips flexed; he thrust and buried his face in his pillow and moaned. He would take her like this first, and she would wrap her legs around him and pull him into her. Gods, yes.

There wasn't too much farther to go. He ground himself into the mattress, unheeding of his surroundings, forgetting where he was, lost in the fantasy. He needed release; it didn't matter how he got it anymore. The only thing he could think about was Hermione's cries of "Oh, Ron" as he came in front of her that morning. His balls tightened. And her scream as Harry came inside of her and Ron felt the throbbing of their climaxes as he massaged her clit.

What finally sent him over the edge was a long, barely whispered "Yesssssss" from the other bed as Harry succumbed to his own pleasure. Ron's cock throbbed hard between his belly and his flattened hand. Ah, yes ... her fingernails would cut deep into his back as he filled her. Gods, more ... and she would scream his name. Unh ... her muscles would clench around his cock as they had around his fingers earlier that day. Fuck, yeah ... and he would make her come with his cock inside of her. Yessssss.

The room had become silent. Not even Seamus and Dean were snoring any longer. And Ron fell asleep before he even had the chance to clean himself up.

A/N: This note should probably have been placed at the beginning, but sometimes author's notes distract the reader from the story. I didn't want you to get distracted. ;) The unexpected winning of the Multifaceted Award got me to fantasizing about Naughty!Ron again and this had to be written. *lol* Perhaps I was the one who didn't want to be distracted. So I guess this story is not finished. The chapter naturally ended here but my imagination didn't. Of course, I could always use some encouragement.