Prompt: first time, right after the end of the war
They watched Harry climb the stairs to the boys' dormitory, looking weary and haggard. They felt similar, but there was too much unresolved tension between them.
Ron looked at her, and swallowed. Even though he felt as if his heart had been torn out over Fred's death, his mind kept wandering back to the kiss she'd planted on him a few hours ago. It was a fierce, breath-taking kiss, and if Harry hadn't interrupted him (pay back, Ron reckoned), the two of them would still be snogging.
"Hermione," he whispered. "Come sit with me." He took her hand and pulled her onto the worn sofa beside him, before pulling her onto his lap. It felt like she was always meant to be there.
"Shh. I need to kiss you now."
Time stood still as he lowered his mouth to hers, tasting her softly. The ir first kiss was frantic and he vowed he savor every nuance that was distinctly Hermione. His tongue traced the line of her lips and she opened her mouth with a sigh and welcomed the intrusion. She tasted salty, yet somehow sweet, as their tongues touched; Ron shivered at the contact and moved one hand to her hair, holding her in place.
Before he knew it, Hermione was lying on the couch and he had a throbbing erection that screamed and demanded he do something to relieve the pressure. With extreme regret, Ron pulled away and noticed exactly how far things had progressed; Hermione was bare from the waist up with her bra strewn over the arm of the sofa; her jeans were open to reveal light pink knickers; his own shirt was long gone and his jeans were settled just below his arse.
"Shh. I need to make love to you now."