Drunklust

Hermione’s head hurt.
Oh god did it ever hurt.
Her mouth was parched. Her tongue felt like sandpaper.
But her head hurt far too much to move.
Hang-overs suck!
So she did the only sane thing she could think off, she ignored it all and went back to sleep.
She didn’t even bother paying attention to the fact that she was curled neatly under the arm of someone – or that she was drooling on that someone’s shirt.

Draco felt like a ton of bricks had hit him in the gut. His stomach was simply in pain.
And his mouth was parched. His throat felt coarse enough to grate cheese on.
But dammit his stomach just hurt too much for him to move – if he did, he might vomit.

As quickly as he woke up, Draco had passed out again. Never noticing the way he hugged the foreign body next too him closer each time she took a breath.

Hermione woke up with a mild headache.
In the moments before realization hit her, Hermione felt nothing out of place with the situation she was in – in fact, she was rather content lying right where she was.
But as she lay there, memories from the night before began to flood her mind.
A drunk proposition – a kiss – a spinning world.
She didn’t dare open take a peak – she feared that her comfortably pillow would indeed turn out to be the man she did not want to see at that very moment.
Gryffindor bravery be damned – if she just stayed here long enough with her eyes squeezed tight she could eventually convince herself that this was all a dream.
A very erotic and enticing dream – but a dream none-the-less.
She heard a groan next to her.
Nope, not a dream.
Carefully opening one eye, she was met with a gently rising and falling chest covered in a familiar looking shirt.
Oh. And a small white spot of drool – well that’s lovely.
Her eyes travelled up the shirt to the lightly snoring face of Malfoy. He looked rather peaceful as he slept. Until one of his gentle snores turned into a violent snort – the kind that shook the whole body – the kind that generally woke a person up.
He mumbled incoherently as he raised his right arm to rub his nose.

She watched his eyes intently, praying they didn’t open.

Therefore she missed his left arm travelling across his body (subsequently dragging her closer to him) and cupping his crotch – the morning erection in his crotch to be more precise.
As her body was quickly pulled onto his, and her thigh rubbed against his hardened cock, she let out a small squeal of surprise.
His expression in that instant would have been comical to Hermione if she weren’t so mortified.
His eyes snapped open and widened. His mouth dropped down and hung there for an instant – all while his hips unconsciously thrust upon her.
She started open mouthed at the man laying half-under, half beside her.
And suddenly she found herself on the ground.
Malfoy had gotten up too quickly, and Hermione didn’t quite enjoy falling on her ass.
“Oh fucking bloody shit” she heard from atop the bed.
The mild throbbing in her head was growing. Suddenly from the top of the mattress a head poked out.
“Shit. Sorry Granger,” he mumbled as he surveyed her collapsed state on the floor.
Her hair was a tangled disaster, she had a small crust of left over drool on her right cheek, and her makeup was smudged under her eyes.
And dear-lord did she ever look shaggable.
His morning erection stiffened even further.
He simply stared at her for a minute, before realizing that he’d been staring at her for 59 seconds too long.
Tentatively he reached a hand towards her and helped her up.
“Thanks Malfoy,” she grumbled softly. Once standing, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.
It seemed rather rude to simply leave. What would she say? ‘Uh, thanks for the almost drunken shag to almost help me get revenge on my ex. It was almost fantastic I’m sure – perhaps another time?’
No, that didn’t quite fit decorum.
She was fidgeting in place and to Draco, it looked rather adorable. Slightly innocent and prudish with a hint of valiant courage – she wasn’t going to meekly walk out of the awkward situation.
“There’s hang-over potion next in the top night stand,” he said, simply watching her. It took a moment before she snapped into reality. Her eyes re-focused on him, and a blush crept to her cheeks.
“Huh?”
“Hang-over potion – top drawer,” he indicated towards the stand.
Without a word, she moved to open it. Next to the hang-over potion was a box of magical condoms – meant to produce various magical sensation. Her blush deepened, as she thought dumbly about the notches on Malfoy’s bed post – more specifically, how she was almost one of them.
She took a big gulp and felt the headache that had been forming begin to subside quickly.
He coughed lightly next to her, and she noticed he also had extended his hand.
Silently passing the potion over, Hermione took the moment to categorize the room. It wasn’t the typical bachelor pad – not that Hermione had seen too many.
It was rather clean, with no dirty laundry hung over the desk chair. A black and white photo of a mountainous landscape, Hermione assumed somewhere from Europe.
The furniture all matched. All made of dark, almost black wood. But the walls were painted a light shade of green, and the sheets matched.
As she examined the room, he examined her.
She really had grown into a beautiful witch.
He’d only been able to examine her briefly the night before, but the feel of her body told him she had the curves. She was by no means a tiny person. Her hips were widespread, but her breast matched them perfectly. Her waist, however, was tiny and fit. Her lips were a little thin, her nose a little smooshed, but her eyes shone and her skin was flawless.
Her hair was a natural disaster (should have been reclassified as the eighth wonder of the world) but it was firery – just like her – she was perfect.
As his thought wandered to remembering the feel of her supple breast in his hand the night before, the sheets covering him began to tent noticeably.
When she met his eye, she was caught in his intense gaze.
She could, once again, feel the heat pooling at her thighs – the slow burning desire that needed to be quenched.
Her eyes slipped down his form. His shirt was hugging his body tightly and she could see the defined muscles in his abdomen.
Her eyes landed on the peak currently at his thigh.
Her mouth watered. Her lips went dry – the whole kit-and-caboodle.
He’d noticed (what man wouldn’t notice a luscious women staring at his erection as though she was stuck in the desert and his penis was the only source of fluids – now that was a naughty fantasy he wouldn’t mind trying!)
She was breaking under his intense gaze.
She had to get out.
“Malfoy I sho-“
He cut her off with a bruising kiss.
She didn’t even pretend to protest – she just melted.
He pulled her back onto the bed gently, while his mouth savagely attacked hers. Thrusting in and out, placing more pressure and teasing by pulling it away.
Her legs settled on either side of his as his hands ran up and down her back.
For her part, Hermione was having difficulty thinking while his hands wandered her body. She drove her hands into his hair and was simply running them through his silky softness.
Her hips were gently rocking onto of his jeans and he couldn’t suppress the moan.
This is what he loved most about sex (well maybe second most), the anticipation of the removal of clothes, the hands over the body, the lips in intimate places, the ultimate thrust – the anticipation could draw him to his knees with pleasure.
As he moved his mouth gently away from hers, finding that spot just above her ear. He figured last night’s mark deserved a twin.
As he set to work on her neck, he barely registered her hands taking on a life of their own.
They travelled down from his hair and grasped his shirt hem lightly. Her fingers splayed across his sides and sent a shiver up his back. She had a gentle touch, almost too soft, almost ticklish – almost – instead her hand moving gently up and down his side, abdomen, upper leg, buttocks – it burned him up from the inside. He abandoned the spot above her neck and crushed her mouth with another kiss. His need was growing painful, and his boxers – his loose fitting boxers – were becoming too tight. And then she grasped him – and he almost lost it.
‘Snape….the greasy old bastard flying on a broom’ he thought. Anything to calm himself down. ‘Potions homework, lab explosions, late night detentions…. Late night detentions with Hermione. As she slowly rubbed-‘
“Oh bugger!” he mumbled into her mouth.
She paused her ministrations on his member long enough to pull away slightly and look him in the eye.
“What?”
“Nothing…it was nothing…” he said quickly. And then he looked at her. Her hair was splayed across the bed, and her eyes were dark with lust and her lips were swollen and red. “Cor, you’re beautiful.”
And she smiled.
And for the second time in two days, her smile almost undid him.
And he realized that once…once couldn’t be enough.
Her hand had resumed movement, but he reached between them and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“I…I can’t.”
She looked at him with questions in her eyes. As realization started to dawn on her, the humiliation began to weigh on her.
Here was Draco Malfoy, scum of the earth, refusing her, when she was openly giving herself to him.
This had started as revenge…but now – the way he had looked at her… it was so much more.
She would not cry. He didn’t want her…that was fine…she would not cry!
Shoving his shoulder gently, she pushed him off of her.
“I’m not the one with a rock hard penis. But ok, if you can’t, you can’t!” she mumbled as she began to sit up. “It’s your loss. I’m pretty damn good in bed, mind blowing in fact!” she hoped that didn’t sound desperate.
She couldn’t look him in the eyes, as she was positive her face was beet-red.
“Hermione wait,” he grabbed her wrist again.
“Please let go of me. You were revenge. Plain and simple,” she tried to shake her wrist free. “I don’t need your pity.”
He didn’t know what to do.
He gave her arm a yank and brought her back down to the bed, and before she could get up, rolled back on top of her.
“Malfoy, get off me!” she squealed. She squirmed underneath him.
“When you walk past my desk in the mornings, with your notebook sticking out your back pocket, I get so fucking hard, I usually skip my morning meetings.”
He ground his erection into her again to prove his point.
“When you prance past me in the lunch room and we exchange insults, I usually have to go wank in the bathroom before I can get back to work.”
She had stopped squirming.
“At first I thought I just wanted to bang the fuck out of you. But then I started noticing things. I hate noticing things. It’s distracting and I shouldn’t be noticing things about you.
“But there it was. I’d notice the ink stain on your fingertips. And the mole at the base of your neck. Or how you always put your sugar in your coffee first, and then your milk. Or that you alphabetize your books in your office. Or that when you weren’t getting any from Ron you’d look at me like your looking at me now – and I would dare to hope, usually for a moment or less, that you could possibly want me too. I thought…” he paused trying to figure out his next words. “I thought I could do this with you…I thought I could just be your revenge. I thought I’d be OK with it. But then you smile at me and … and I realized I can’t. Somewhere along the way I had…”
She held her breath as he paused again. Hoping he wasn’t about to say what she thought he was going to say. She had just fallen out of love. She couldn’t handle someone else loving her just yet….
“Somewhere along the way I had realized I…sort of…fancied you…more than I should have.”
He fancied her? That was it?
Ok so maybe she didn’t want him to love her. But still…all he did was fancy? What was he, back at Hogwarts?
“I’m sorry you …fancy me?”
He blushed…actually blushed.
“Well don’t make it sound like I’m some sort nanny-boy. I realized I was more than just lusting over you,” he said, now not wanting to meet her gaze.
“So you more than just lust after me?”
“Well… yes, I suppose.”
And her reaction was anything but what he expected. She laughed.
Hard.
As in belly-shaking, eyes leaking, can’t breath kind of laugh.
He was offended.
Truly offended. He started to climb off her but she circled her arms around his back and her legs around his waist, trapping him against her.
As she caught her breath, she exclaimed “Draco you are a ponce!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a ponce!”
“Well you’re insufferable!” he retaliated.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked, finally meeting his stare.
“I have no bloody idea. I’ve never really more than lusted after a person before.”
And she giggled again.
“Are you thinking of awkwardly dating, and the whole shebang?” she asked.
“Well I was thinking more of doing this-“ and he thrust his cock against her again “on a more frequent basis. But if to do that, you would want to date…then I would find that acceptable.”
He lowered his face to hers and once again captured her lips.
She couldn’t take the foreplay any longer. She reached between them and pulled down his boxers, while fumbled with her pants.
He barely pushed them to her knees when he thrust inside her. He buried his face in her neck and mumbled incoherently “ so tight…so hot…so perfect…” over and over.
He thrust over and over, angling himself to brush against her clit as he did. He could hear her moaning and snaked his hand between them to rub her clit more ferociously.
She hadn’t been satisfied in months – maybe years – so it didn’t take much for her orgasm to hit. He could feel her walls tightening around him as she arched off the bed.
Her toes curled as she let out a soft scream. And he watched her as she rode out her orgasm; her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her lips parted in a now silent ‘O.’
And when she came down…she looked at him through hooded eyes and smiled…and that was, again, his undoing.
His thrust became erratic and within seconds he came.
She stroked his back, with that gentle touch, after he’d collapsed on her.
They basked in the afterglow, exchanging those subtle sweet kisses and caresses, neither wanting to move.
“So does this mean for another round I’m actually going to have to take you on a date?” he mumbled into her neck.
“Yup.”
He began to role off her, but she tightened her hold.
“Oh I meant another round any other day…today you get a free pass…”
He looked at her and cocked his eyebrow.
“..free pass? An all day free pass?”
“Something like that,” she giggled.
“Before we do this, do you have any feelings left for the weasel?” he asked seriously.
“Ron was my first love,” she replied truthfully. “But I haven’t loved him in a while,” she paused as she weighed her words. “What he did to me was…it really hurt me. Even if I didn’t love him. It really hurt me. It’s going to take me some time to get over that.”
He nodded.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said very quietly, lowering her gaze to the tip of his nose.
“I can’t promise. But I’ll try,” he said, cupping her chin and tipping it upwards. “And I can certainly promise to never sleep with anyone named after a herb!”
“Or a spice!” she added with a chuckle.
“Nutmeg really is an unfortunate name.”


A/N - ta da...There's a small Grey's anatomy reference in there. If this got a little heavy towards the end it's because of Grey's.
Hope you enjoyed!