1 Fanfic: Chose (Ron/Pansy)
Jan. 10th, 2012 11:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amorphousTitle: Chose
Word Count: circa 3000
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Ron/Pansy
Summary: Ron and Pansy have a very casual physical relationship.
In the course of their relationship, neither were forthcoming with things like honesty, feelings, and the future. It would be too easy to actually be honest with each other or with themselves. Who wanted easy? If they had wanted easy then they wouldn't be here now, a tangle of arms and legs wrapped in blankets. No, easy was not what this moment was.
This moment was many things. It was complicated. It was wrong. It was hot. It was tiring. It was intimate. But it wasn't easy.
Slowly, Ron pulled away from the small, curvy body next to him. He was already sweating and the feminine body just radiated more heat. The air shifted as the body moved away, accommodating his desire to not touch without question. They both rolled off the opposite sides of the bed, groping for clothes on the floor nearby.
"I need to go," her voice abruptly broke the silence around them. It was familiar. The clipped tone -- he would recognize that voice anywhere. It was almost always pitched low, speaking in normally hard tones.
Ron finally sat up and looked off the side of the bed when he couldn't reach any clothes. No clothes in sight.
"Yeah, you should," he said. And I need to get dressed, he added to himself as he stood up. Noticing that her body was slowly being covered with clothes, he couldn't help the pang of disappointment at the soft, smooth skin disappearing. He liked that body normally; he loved the way it felt under his hands. He never liked seeing it covered up and always eagerly began to reveal it when he could and as soon as he could. Piece by piece, he picked up all his clothes from across the room, sliding them on.
When he was dressed, he turned to see her body fully covered, standing here with her arms crossed over her chest. "Brilliant," she said, "I have everything. Next time let's do this at my place!" Pansy Parkinson smiled at him - a smile that was full of promise for "next time" - before she Apparated away.
---
Pansy left her bedroom, dusting her robes off slightly as she headed to the front part of the flat. Greg was sitting at the table, looking down into the dark liquid in his coffee cup. He looked... sad. He always looked sad lately, Pansy had noticed. She was a bitch, but she still had a heart and cared that her roommate looked so crestfallen all the time. She had no idea why he was feeling the way he was, either. He'd been close-mouthed about everything lately, pushing her away by not revealing what was wrong. He still spoke to her about his day, but never what really bothered him. Never did a word he said explain why he seemed so sad, unless it was his recent break up with Daphne Greengrass, which she somehow doubted. They had only dated for two weeks before they broke up and it didn't seem to be a reason for such infinite sadness on her friend's behalf.
"Morning, Greg," she said politely as she moved to the coffee pot.
He jumped slightly, not having heard her come in. His blue eyes moved up from the liquid to meet her brown ones before dropping back down to his coffee again. "Morning."
"How are you this morning?" she asked, pouring herself a cup.
"Fine. Yourself?" His baritone voice was soft, quick. What was his problem?
"Oh, I'm fine," she said breezily, looking at her friend. "You know, just going to work."
"Of course."
"Merlin, Greg, I am worried about you," she burst out. She couldn't help herself. Pansy was not the type to keep things bottled up inside.
"What?" He was surprised her at words, turning his gaze back to hers and staying.
"I'm worried about you," she said each word deliberately. "You're just so damned sad. Daphne was not that much of a catch. She was barely passable. You can do better."
He blinked at her in silence for a moment. "You think it's all over Daphne? I barely--"
"I know, you barely saw her, which is why I don't understand why she matters so much."
"She doesn't."
"Oh, good. Then what's up?"
Greg stood up, picked up his coffee cup, poured the rest down the drain, and then finally after he set the cup down in the sink, turned back to her. "If you don't already know I don't know what to say to you." With those cryptic words, he left Pansy alone with her coffee.
---
Pansy rolled away from him almost immediately after they were done. Ron was so used to it that he just allowed her. The closed windows cut off all noise from the street that he was normally acquainted with in his own flat, making it eerily silent in the empty flat. He rolled over himself, looking lazily around the floor for his clothes. He was in no real rush to get dressed or leave tonight since Goyle should be gone for hours, but one couldn't be positive either.
Wrapping the blanket around herself while leaving him naked on the bed, Pansy stood up and headed out toward the door. She turned at the door, looking over her shoulder at him.
"Aw, are you cold now?" She laughed, grinning happily and not caring. It wasn't like the flat was cold or that it mattered if he was covered. They'd already done enough that embarrassment was the last emotion he'd feel at this. Seeing her laughing face trying to mock him actually make him laugh at(in) return, unable to even be annoyed.
Ron leaned back on the bed with his arms folded his arms behind his head. She continued to laugh at him for a moment, just staring at him. If he wasn't mistaken, her brown eyes danced with both the mirth and the delight she actually saw. She'd never complained about what she saw before and tonight had been no different. While she'd like it to be, herlaughter didn't seem cruel or unkind. "No," he answered with a grin.
"Good," she said before turning. "I'll be right back." Then she disappeared out the door, leaving him alone.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, surveying the ground for his clothes. He found his boxers, throwing them on and then realizing his pants were in the front part of the flat near the living room. Pansy and he had been so eager to get their clothes off they had left a trail, starting in the living room with his shirt and ending here in the bedroom. Their hands had been all over each other, caressing the exposed skin as each new layer was taken off.
Walking out into the front part of the flat, he heard Pansy in the kitchen. Clearly she was making coffee by the noises. There in the hallway by the entrance to the living room he found his trousers, which he threw on before he went into the living room. He walked over and slouched on the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him. A discarded blanket was beside him now, and a quick glance around the room showed him that Pansy had gotten her clothes already. "Pansy, when you're done, I'm in the living room."
Pansy poked her head out of the kitchen and looked at him. Her eyebrows shot up as a smirk slowly formed on her face as she noticed how comfortable he'd made himself. She was dressed again. "Comfortable, Weasley?"
"Very," he said with a grin in return. "Are you making coffee?"
"Yes, do you want a cup?"
"Yes, please."
"Please? I forget sometimes your mother did teach you manners."
"Leave my mother out of it."
"Oh, right. You wouldn't want your mother to know what you're doing now. She'd be--"
"Surprised? Ashamed?"
"Something like that."
Ron could hear the delight in her voice as she disappeared back into the kitchen. She had no shame when it came to the fact no one besides the two of them actually needed to know about their activities. Families and friends would just complicate everything. This was supposed to be simple without explanation to anyone, including each other.
She came into the living room a moment later with two cups of streaming hot coffee,handing one to Ron and sitting in the chair away from him. Before she sat down, he picked up his shirt and then threw it at him in a not-so-subtle way of telling him to finish getting dressed and to not get too comfortable. Technically Goyle could come home at any moment and find a shirtless Ron Weasley in his flat. Part of Ron wouldn't mind it; he was getting sick of keeping this between just the two of them, but mostly he just wanted to keep it all between them and leave everyone else out.
Quickly, he slid the shirt over the top of his head, promising himself he'd leave as soon as his coffee was done.
---
Pansy toyed with her hair, pulling a tendril down and twisting it around her finger. Instinctively, her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she looked at the redhead across from her. They had been talking for barely ten minutes and she already felt distracted. She just wanted to jump him. It wasn't like either of them were in it for the lame conversations or the silences that fell between them. They were in it for the physical. She moved over by the couch beside him; his arm immediately reached out to slide over her shoulders, pulling her toward him.
The quiet continued between them as Ron's mouth found hers. She kissed him back eagerly, passionately, reaching up to run her hands through his hair. The kiss deepened almost immediately as his mouth opened under hers. Reaching down, she ran her hands over the front of his shirt to get to the bottom hem. Tugging the garment upward, she pulled away from the kiss, breathing hard, and discarded the shirt somewhere to her left. Leaning down, she began to trail kisses along his neck, shoulder, and closer to his chest.
His breathing was hard beneath her mouth and he sucked in a breath as her tongue poked out to lick his skin. She made her way back up to his mouth again, kissing him eagerly. His hands grabbed all over her body--from her hips to her back to her breasts. Finally, they settled on pulling up her shirt where she lifted her arms to help him get rid of the piece of clothing. When he leaned forward and his mouth touched the tops of her breasts, she sucked in a breath and began to breath faster, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder, neck, and anywhere she could reach.
He reached behind her and undid the clasps on her bra, letting the fabric fall to reveal her hardened nipples. Immediately he paid attention to them, sucking on them and licking them. She let out small, breathy moans at the pleasure his mouth sent through her. Her hands moved into his hair, combing back his red hair while keeping his mouth over her flushed skin. His tongue changed speeds now and then as well as method, always leaving her wanting more of each when he was done.
His hands traveled down her body and began to undo the zipper on her skirt. He pulled it down and she reluctantly let him go. Reaching down, she undid his trousers. Once he had lifted his hips and both his trousers and pants were in a pile on the floor, Pansy smiled. She loved to tease him as much as he liked to tease her.
Moving quickly, she leaned down and took his erect penis in her mouth as far as she could go. Immediately, she heard Ron groan loudly above her. She slowly pulled him out of her mouth only to swirl her tongue around the tip slowly). Every one of her actions was greeted with a moan from Ron, who, when she looked up at him, had his head leaned back with his eyes closed. She leaned back down and continued, taking him in and out and licking up the underside of his penis.
"Merlin, Pans," Ron groaned suddenly when Pansy had his penis in her mouth, "Stop."
She knew what he meant and quickly released his throbbing erection. She leaned up and kissed him as she slithered out of her skirt and panties. The kiss deepened as she lifted herself up over him, straddling his hips. She let out a small moan when she felt him enter her, filling her completely. Closing her eyes, she did what she always did - she kissed him passionately, making sure as they began to move together the kiss was nice and deep.
Ron's hands moved to rest on her hips has(as) he thrust up into her. Over and over until Pansy could no longer kiss Ron, they moved in unison. Her body shook with pleasure when she leaned forward, pressed her lips to his shoulder in a moan and let herself go. He followed with his own release a thrust later.
"What the fuck?!"
Greg's voice jarred Pansy from her blissful post-orgasm exhausted happiness. She quickly swung around, groping for anything to cover herself with. Her roommate looked furious. Ron seemed to be having a hard time getting his things together as he looked from Greg to Pansy.
"Get up," she hissed under her breath. Reaching down, she grabbed at his pants to pull them up for him. She felt embarrassed and just wanted Ron out of there so she could talk to her friend.
Greg stormed out of the room only to come back moments later with a blanket he threw at Pansy. As Ron gathered his shirt and pulled his trousers back on, she wrapped the blanket around herself. Before she could say anything, Greg burst to life. "What is going on here? Don't answer that! I know what's going on here! How could you do this? With him? On the couch? Why now? Why at all? This shouldn't have happened. How could you fucking do this?"
---
After Ron collected his things and left. Pansy turned to Greg. "Look, I'm sorry you had to see that, but did you have to react that way?" she asked, angry.
"What? Pansy, you were fucking Weasley on our living room couch!" Greg shot back. He looked torn between being angry and sad, which was an odd mixture even on Greg, whom she knew so well.
Pansy could admit to herself that Greg had a point; she really should have moved the party to the bedroom, at least. But since she hadn't she wasn't going to give and tell Greg he was right, not after how he'd acted. He'd yelled at them like they were children being caught doing something bad. They were both consenting adults; he had no right to act like her parent. They were roommates, friends. He'd had people over before, and even if he hadn't resorted to having sex with them in the living room she knew he was sleeping with them privately.
"So what? It's my flat too."
"In the living room!"
"It's my flat, too! You weren't home!"
"But I came home and saw."
"Well if you had a social life -- Maybe if you'd stayed with Daphne."
"Screw Daphne."
"Did you? Screw Daphne, I mean?"
"None of your fucking business."
"That's a no then."
"Why is that automatically a no?"
"Because if it was a yes, you would have said so."
"Pansy, what is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem! I wasn't the one who came home yelling!"
"You weren't the one who saw someone you love fucking another guy on the living room couch!"
Pansy opened her mouth for another quick reply, but stopped and looked at Greg. Did he just say that she was someone he loved? What did he mean by that?
Confused, she asked, "Excuse me? Someone you what?"
Greg blushed. He actually blushed! It was slight and only noticeable to someone who knew him so well, but without a doubt it was a blush. "So what if I said someone I love?"
"What does that even mean?" she asked, frowning. She felt confused, strange. She didn't want Greg to love her as more than a friend, like she him. How he said it made it seem like he might love her differently.
"You don't know what love means?" he asked, his blush fading. He was feeling another emotion, an emotion that was making him more aggressive. Was he angry with her?
"Of course I know what love means!" she said, exasperated. "I just mean, what did you mean when you said you love me? As a friend? I mean I lo--"
"You love me as a friend, I know," Greg cut her off. He sighed, looking at her sadly again. "You know why Daphne and I didn't work out?"
"Why?" she asked, already knowing she didn't want to hear the answer to the question.
"You."
Pansy swallowed hard at his one word answer. She'd already known she wouldn't like the answer, but hearing the word aloud made it worse. How long had he felt more than friendship for her? There had been hints. but she hadn't really paid any attention to them. They were just Greg being Greg. She looked down for a moment then back up at her friend.
"But you're my friend. Only my friend," she said, feeling bad for having to be harsh.
"I know that! I've always only been a friend, but everyone else knows how I feel about you and you seem to be blind."
"I'm not blind! I mean... We are friends. You're a good friend to me and I am a good friend to you!" She paused. "I don't know how where this leaves us?"
"Where that leaves us? As friends! You're with fucking Weasley and I'm just a friend as always."
He seemed to resent the term friend or being one at the moment, and honestly Pansy couldn't blame him. Pansy wished she could do something to make things better, to put this back to where it'd been before he walked in on her and Ron earlier that evening.
"Yes, I'm fucking Weasley!" she said in exasperation.
"But why? Why are you fucking him?"
"Because I care about him!"
The words just flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. She'd never intended on saying them aloud, especially not to someone like Greg. This was supposed to be casual but had grown into something more. Neither had spoken of the change, but she knew that Ron had to have felt it to. Her eyes faced downward as she heard Greg answer her confession.
"You care about him?" he whispered, clearly surprised.
"Yes."
---
Ron sat down on the couch in the flat he shared with Harry with his book on Quidditch. Harry was off with Ginny for the night and Ron had the whole place to himself. Normally, he'd be inviting Pansy over but tonight had been one of the evenings he usually went to her place. The night had been going well before her roommate Greg had interrupted them, sending him home early.
The knock on the door surprised him. Answering it, he was surprised to find Pansy standing there. She looked vulnerable with her eyes soft and a quiet pout on her lips as she looked at him.
"I chose you. I wanted you to know I chose you," she said, her voice strong and confident.
"What? What are you talking about? What do you mean you 'chose' me?" Ron asked, looking at her with confusion. He backed up, stumbling slightly to allow for her to come inside the flat.
She stepped inside the flat, grabbing the door from his hand and shutting it. Turning back to Ron, she gave him a look of utter confidence and suggestion. "Can we just skip the explanations and go to your bedroom, please?"
Ron looked at her for a moment before he nodded and smiled. He really didn't care suddenly what she chose him in or why. The opportunity of the bedroom tonight was more than enough to make him ignore his questions as he smiled eagerly and happily at her. "So your mother did teach your manners after all."
She stepped toward him, wound her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. After a long, deep kiss, she pulled back, both of them breathing harder, and whispered, "Leave my mother out of this."
Word Count: circa 3000
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Ron/Pansy
Summary: Ron and Pansy have a very casual physical relationship.
In the course of their relationship, neither were forthcoming with things like honesty, feelings, and the future. It would be too easy to actually be honest with each other or with themselves. Who wanted easy? If they had wanted easy then they wouldn't be here now, a tangle of arms and legs wrapped in blankets. No, easy was not what this moment was.
This moment was many things. It was complicated. It was wrong. It was hot. It was tiring. It was intimate. But it wasn't easy.
Slowly, Ron pulled away from the small, curvy body next to him. He was already sweating and the feminine body just radiated more heat. The air shifted as the body moved away, accommodating his desire to not touch without question. They both rolled off the opposite sides of the bed, groping for clothes on the floor nearby.
"I need to go," her voice abruptly broke the silence around them. It was familiar. The clipped tone -- he would recognize that voice anywhere. It was almost always pitched low, speaking in normally hard tones.
Ron finally sat up and looked off the side of the bed when he couldn't reach any clothes. No clothes in sight.
"Yeah, you should," he said. And I need to get dressed, he added to himself as he stood up. Noticing that her body was slowly being covered with clothes, he couldn't help the pang of disappointment at the soft, smooth skin disappearing. He liked that body normally; he loved the way it felt under his hands. He never liked seeing it covered up and always eagerly began to reveal it when he could and as soon as he could. Piece by piece, he picked up all his clothes from across the room, sliding them on.
When he was dressed, he turned to see her body fully covered, standing here with her arms crossed over her chest. "Brilliant," she said, "I have everything. Next time let's do this at my place!" Pansy Parkinson smiled at him - a smile that was full of promise for "next time" - before she Apparated away.
---
Pansy left her bedroom, dusting her robes off slightly as she headed to the front part of the flat. Greg was sitting at the table, looking down into the dark liquid in his coffee cup. He looked... sad. He always looked sad lately, Pansy had noticed. She was a bitch, but she still had a heart and cared that her roommate looked so crestfallen all the time. She had no idea why he was feeling the way he was, either. He'd been close-mouthed about everything lately, pushing her away by not revealing what was wrong. He still spoke to her about his day, but never what really bothered him. Never did a word he said explain why he seemed so sad, unless it was his recent break up with Daphne Greengrass, which she somehow doubted. They had only dated for two weeks before they broke up and it didn't seem to be a reason for such infinite sadness on her friend's behalf.
"Morning, Greg," she said politely as she moved to the coffee pot.
He jumped slightly, not having heard her come in. His blue eyes moved up from the liquid to meet her brown ones before dropping back down to his coffee again. "Morning."
"How are you this morning?" she asked, pouring herself a cup.
"Fine. Yourself?" His baritone voice was soft, quick. What was his problem?
"Oh, I'm fine," she said breezily, looking at her friend. "You know, just going to work."
"Of course."
"Merlin, Greg, I am worried about you," she burst out. She couldn't help herself. Pansy was not the type to keep things bottled up inside.
"What?" He was surprised her at words, turning his gaze back to hers and staying.
"I'm worried about you," she said each word deliberately. "You're just so damned sad. Daphne was not that much of a catch. She was barely passable. You can do better."
He blinked at her in silence for a moment. "You think it's all over Daphne? I barely--"
"I know, you barely saw her, which is why I don't understand why she matters so much."
"She doesn't."
"Oh, good. Then what's up?"
Greg stood up, picked up his coffee cup, poured the rest down the drain, and then finally after he set the cup down in the sink, turned back to her. "If you don't already know I don't know what to say to you." With those cryptic words, he left Pansy alone with her coffee.
---
Pansy rolled away from him almost immediately after they were done. Ron was so used to it that he just allowed her. The closed windows cut off all noise from the street that he was normally acquainted with in his own flat, making it eerily silent in the empty flat. He rolled over himself, looking lazily around the floor for his clothes. He was in no real rush to get dressed or leave tonight since Goyle should be gone for hours, but one couldn't be positive either.
Wrapping the blanket around herself while leaving him naked on the bed, Pansy stood up and headed out toward the door. She turned at the door, looking over her shoulder at him.
"Aw, are you cold now?" She laughed, grinning happily and not caring. It wasn't like the flat was cold or that it mattered if he was covered. They'd already done enough that embarrassment was the last emotion he'd feel at this. Seeing her laughing face trying to mock him actually make him laugh at(in) return, unable to even be annoyed.
Ron leaned back on the bed with his arms folded his arms behind his head. She continued to laugh at him for a moment, just staring at him. If he wasn't mistaken, her brown eyes danced with both the mirth and the delight she actually saw. She'd never complained about what she saw before and tonight had been no different. While she'd like it to be, herlaughter didn't seem cruel or unkind. "No," he answered with a grin.
"Good," she said before turning. "I'll be right back." Then she disappeared out the door, leaving him alone.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, surveying the ground for his clothes. He found his boxers, throwing them on and then realizing his pants were in the front part of the flat near the living room. Pansy and he had been so eager to get their clothes off they had left a trail, starting in the living room with his shirt and ending here in the bedroom. Their hands had been all over each other, caressing the exposed skin as each new layer was taken off.
Walking out into the front part of the flat, he heard Pansy in the kitchen. Clearly she was making coffee by the noises. There in the hallway by the entrance to the living room he found his trousers, which he threw on before he went into the living room. He walked over and slouched on the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him. A discarded blanket was beside him now, and a quick glance around the room showed him that Pansy had gotten her clothes already. "Pansy, when you're done, I'm in the living room."
Pansy poked her head out of the kitchen and looked at him. Her eyebrows shot up as a smirk slowly formed on her face as she noticed how comfortable he'd made himself. She was dressed again. "Comfortable, Weasley?"
"Very," he said with a grin in return. "Are you making coffee?"
"Yes, do you want a cup?"
"Yes, please."
"Please? I forget sometimes your mother did teach you manners."
"Leave my mother out of it."
"Oh, right. You wouldn't want your mother to know what you're doing now. She'd be--"
"Surprised? Ashamed?"
"Something like that."
Ron could hear the delight in her voice as she disappeared back into the kitchen. She had no shame when it came to the fact no one besides the two of them actually needed to know about their activities. Families and friends would just complicate everything. This was supposed to be simple without explanation to anyone, including each other.
She came into the living room a moment later with two cups of streaming hot coffee,handing one to Ron and sitting in the chair away from him. Before she sat down, he picked up his shirt and then threw it at him in a not-so-subtle way of telling him to finish getting dressed and to not get too comfortable. Technically Goyle could come home at any moment and find a shirtless Ron Weasley in his flat. Part of Ron wouldn't mind it; he was getting sick of keeping this between just the two of them, but mostly he just wanted to keep it all between them and leave everyone else out.
Quickly, he slid the shirt over the top of his head, promising himself he'd leave as soon as his coffee was done.
---
Pansy toyed with her hair, pulling a tendril down and twisting it around her finger. Instinctively, her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she looked at the redhead across from her. They had been talking for barely ten minutes and she already felt distracted. She just wanted to jump him. It wasn't like either of them were in it for the lame conversations or the silences that fell between them. They were in it for the physical. She moved over by the couch beside him; his arm immediately reached out to slide over her shoulders, pulling her toward him.
The quiet continued between them as Ron's mouth found hers. She kissed him back eagerly, passionately, reaching up to run her hands through his hair. The kiss deepened almost immediately as his mouth opened under hers. Reaching down, she ran her hands over the front of his shirt to get to the bottom hem. Tugging the garment upward, she pulled away from the kiss, breathing hard, and discarded the shirt somewhere to her left. Leaning down, she began to trail kisses along his neck, shoulder, and closer to his chest.
His breathing was hard beneath her mouth and he sucked in a breath as her tongue poked out to lick his skin. She made her way back up to his mouth again, kissing him eagerly. His hands grabbed all over her body--from her hips to her back to her breasts. Finally, they settled on pulling up her shirt where she lifted her arms to help him get rid of the piece of clothing. When he leaned forward and his mouth touched the tops of her breasts, she sucked in a breath and began to breath faster, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder, neck, and anywhere she could reach.
He reached behind her and undid the clasps on her bra, letting the fabric fall to reveal her hardened nipples. Immediately he paid attention to them, sucking on them and licking them. She let out small, breathy moans at the pleasure his mouth sent through her. Her hands moved into his hair, combing back his red hair while keeping his mouth over her flushed skin. His tongue changed speeds now and then as well as method, always leaving her wanting more of each when he was done.
His hands traveled down her body and began to undo the zipper on her skirt. He pulled it down and she reluctantly let him go. Reaching down, she undid his trousers. Once he had lifted his hips and both his trousers and pants were in a pile on the floor, Pansy smiled. She loved to tease him as much as he liked to tease her.
Moving quickly, she leaned down and took his erect penis in her mouth as far as she could go. Immediately, she heard Ron groan loudly above her. She slowly pulled him out of her mouth only to swirl her tongue around the tip slowly). Every one of her actions was greeted with a moan from Ron, who, when she looked up at him, had his head leaned back with his eyes closed. She leaned back down and continued, taking him in and out and licking up the underside of his penis.
"Merlin, Pans," Ron groaned suddenly when Pansy had his penis in her mouth, "Stop."
She knew what he meant and quickly released his throbbing erection. She leaned up and kissed him as she slithered out of her skirt and panties. The kiss deepened as she lifted herself up over him, straddling his hips. She let out a small moan when she felt him enter her, filling her completely. Closing her eyes, she did what she always did - she kissed him passionately, making sure as they began to move together the kiss was nice and deep.
Ron's hands moved to rest on her hips has(as) he thrust up into her. Over and over until Pansy could no longer kiss Ron, they moved in unison. Her body shook with pleasure when she leaned forward, pressed her lips to his shoulder in a moan and let herself go. He followed with his own release a thrust later.
"What the fuck?!"
Greg's voice jarred Pansy from her blissful post-orgasm exhausted happiness. She quickly swung around, groping for anything to cover herself with. Her roommate looked furious. Ron seemed to be having a hard time getting his things together as he looked from Greg to Pansy.
"Get up," she hissed under her breath. Reaching down, she grabbed at his pants to pull them up for him. She felt embarrassed and just wanted Ron out of there so she could talk to her friend.
Greg stormed out of the room only to come back moments later with a blanket he threw at Pansy. As Ron gathered his shirt and pulled his trousers back on, she wrapped the blanket around herself. Before she could say anything, Greg burst to life. "What is going on here? Don't answer that! I know what's going on here! How could you do this? With him? On the couch? Why now? Why at all? This shouldn't have happened. How could you fucking do this?"
---
After Ron collected his things and left. Pansy turned to Greg. "Look, I'm sorry you had to see that, but did you have to react that way?" she asked, angry.
"What? Pansy, you were fucking Weasley on our living room couch!" Greg shot back. He looked torn between being angry and sad, which was an odd mixture even on Greg, whom she knew so well.
Pansy could admit to herself that Greg had a point; she really should have moved the party to the bedroom, at least. But since she hadn't she wasn't going to give and tell Greg he was right, not after how he'd acted. He'd yelled at them like they were children being caught doing something bad. They were both consenting adults; he had no right to act like her parent. They were roommates, friends. He'd had people over before, and even if he hadn't resorted to having sex with them in the living room she knew he was sleeping with them privately.
"So what? It's my flat too."
"In the living room!"
"It's my flat, too! You weren't home!"
"But I came home and saw."
"Well if you had a social life -- Maybe if you'd stayed with Daphne."
"Screw Daphne."
"Did you? Screw Daphne, I mean?"
"None of your fucking business."
"That's a no then."
"Why is that automatically a no?"
"Because if it was a yes, you would have said so."
"Pansy, what is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem! I wasn't the one who came home yelling!"
"You weren't the one who saw someone you love fucking another guy on the living room couch!"
Pansy opened her mouth for another quick reply, but stopped and looked at Greg. Did he just say that she was someone he loved? What did he mean by that?
Confused, she asked, "Excuse me? Someone you what?"
Greg blushed. He actually blushed! It was slight and only noticeable to someone who knew him so well, but without a doubt it was a blush. "So what if I said someone I love?"
"What does that even mean?" she asked, frowning. She felt confused, strange. She didn't want Greg to love her as more than a friend, like she him. How he said it made it seem like he might love her differently.
"You don't know what love means?" he asked, his blush fading. He was feeling another emotion, an emotion that was making him more aggressive. Was he angry with her?
"Of course I know what love means!" she said, exasperated. "I just mean, what did you mean when you said you love me? As a friend? I mean I lo--"
"You love me as a friend, I know," Greg cut her off. He sighed, looking at her sadly again. "You know why Daphne and I didn't work out?"
"Why?" she asked, already knowing she didn't want to hear the answer to the question.
"You."
Pansy swallowed hard at his one word answer. She'd already known she wouldn't like the answer, but hearing the word aloud made it worse. How long had he felt more than friendship for her? There had been hints. but she hadn't really paid any attention to them. They were just Greg being Greg. She looked down for a moment then back up at her friend.
"But you're my friend. Only my friend," she said, feeling bad for having to be harsh.
"I know that! I've always only been a friend, but everyone else knows how I feel about you and you seem to be blind."
"I'm not blind! I mean... We are friends. You're a good friend to me and I am a good friend to you!" She paused. "I don't know how where this leaves us?"
"Where that leaves us? As friends! You're with fucking Weasley and I'm just a friend as always."
He seemed to resent the term friend or being one at the moment, and honestly Pansy couldn't blame him. Pansy wished she could do something to make things better, to put this back to where it'd been before he walked in on her and Ron earlier that evening.
"Yes, I'm fucking Weasley!" she said in exasperation.
"But why? Why are you fucking him?"
"Because I care about him!"
The words just flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. She'd never intended on saying them aloud, especially not to someone like Greg. This was supposed to be casual but had grown into something more. Neither had spoken of the change, but she knew that Ron had to have felt it to. Her eyes faced downward as she heard Greg answer her confession.
"You care about him?" he whispered, clearly surprised.
"Yes."
---
Ron sat down on the couch in the flat he shared with Harry with his book on Quidditch. Harry was off with Ginny for the night and Ron had the whole place to himself. Normally, he'd be inviting Pansy over but tonight had been one of the evenings he usually went to her place. The night had been going well before her roommate Greg had interrupted them, sending him home early.
The knock on the door surprised him. Answering it, he was surprised to find Pansy standing there. She looked vulnerable with her eyes soft and a quiet pout on her lips as she looked at him.
"I chose you. I wanted you to know I chose you," she said, her voice strong and confident.
"What? What are you talking about? What do you mean you 'chose' me?" Ron asked, looking at her with confusion. He backed up, stumbling slightly to allow for her to come inside the flat.
She stepped inside the flat, grabbing the door from his hand and shutting it. Turning back to Ron, she gave him a look of utter confidence and suggestion. "Can we just skip the explanations and go to your bedroom, please?"
Ron looked at her for a moment before he nodded and smiled. He really didn't care suddenly what she chose him in or why. The opportunity of the bedroom tonight was more than enough to make him ignore his questions as he smiled eagerly and happily at her. "So your mother did teach your manners after all."
She stepped toward him, wound her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. After a long, deep kiss, she pulled back, both of them breathing harder, and whispered, "Leave my mother out of this."
