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It's quick and dirty, which makes Ron blush when he thinks about it, which is why he doesn't think as Cho's mouth moves over him. He's sweaty and filthy and exhausted, but the heat of her tongue as it slides along the length of his cock almost makes him forget everything else as he digs his short nails into the smooth wood of the locker room benches, his hips jerking up toward her as her hair brushes this thighs with every stroke and suck of her mouth. He knows, somewhere deep inside, that she's only doing it because she's mad at Harry for moving on with Luna and she's mad at herself for not being able to stop blubbering - he can feel her tears on his skin, tangling with her hair - but he doesn't care because his body is tightening and his arms don't feel strong enough to support him as he comes, fast and hot and hard in her mouth. Cho moans and chokes slightly, though he's not sure if it's because of him or her tears. She pulls back and wipes her eyes then wipes her lips and she looks slightly swollen and mostly sad. Without thinking, Ron slips off the bench and sinks to his knees in front of her, stroking back her damp hair with shaking fingers that he doesn't quite know how to control. She sobs in earnest and he reaches for her, pulling her against him in a tight hug. His cock is caught between them and likes it, unwanted as it prepares for another round, surging harder as he pulls back enough to kiss her, wanting that swollen look to be from something good. They lie on the floor, kissing all the while. Her hands touch him now, stroking his arms and fumbling with the clasps that keep his Quidditch robes on, her own serving as practice to unfasten them. He fights with her tie and his fingers are too large for the tiny buttons that hold her white shirt against her darker skin. He mumbles protests as she releases him, letting them fold into appreciation as she undoes her shirt, leaving him to shrug out of his robes on his own. He leans in to kiss her only to find himself on his back as she straddles him, her panties cutting into his thighs as they catch on her ankles, prohibiting her from surrounding him completely he thinks, until her body settles on his and his cock - definitely interested now - grows to full attention inside her. He groans as she begins moving, his pants around his ankles, her panties digging into the flesh and muscle of his thighs. The slight pain anchors him in reality as the pleasure of her ever hotter body banishes the memory of her mouth to the recesses of his brain. She's still crying silently, tears leaving trails on her skin as her fingers knead his chest, her nails occasionally digging into his skin. She feels so good, but Ron's not good at being passive for too long - in the Burrow, if you didn't keep moving, you were someone's target - so he grabs her and turns them both over, his knees holding her panties to the floor, his arms on either side of her head as he moves inside her, thrusting slowly and deeply, his eyes searching the liquid of hers for some sign he's doing things right. Cho doesn't say anything, doesn't make a sound as the tears now simply make tracks into her hair from the corner of her eyes. He gives up and closes his own, concentrating on the quick pulse of his blood, the urge and need that compels his hips. His eyes fly open as she makes a sound that he knows isn't a sob and he's staring down at her again only this time, for the first time, she's there in her eyes and they're wide and her mouth's open and she's pushing up against him, thrusting back against his body. Ron breathes a grin, his own mouth opening as her body contracts around him and squeezes, tighter and harder than her hand or her mouth ever did. It's hotter than an inferno and he bites his lower lip to keep from crying out as she comes around him. His body seems to jerk in response to the rush, but he keeps moving inside her, staring into her eyes. Shame and need and pain and desire flicker through like emotions she doesn't have a reign on but, for the first time since she started this whole thing, she isn't crying as they touch and Ron's tongue doesn't taste the bitterness of her tears. He kisses her, unable to keep from smiling as she gasps and comes around him again, smaller and shuddering. He pulls away from her slowly and she lies there on the floor, staring at the ceiling. The room still smells of sweat, but it's a sweeter scent as he levers himself back onto the bench. His cock is still hard, painfully so, but he's still smiling. "You alright?" "I will be," she admits quietly. "In a moment." He nods and starts to reach for his pants, to cover himself up. "Help me?" He stops and reaches down for her hand, realizing he'd been so concerned with being inside her; he'd neglected the smooth swell of her breast. He reaches out and touches the tight, swollen tip, freezing as the door slams open. Ron's eyes meet Hermione's and the pain that lances through them send his gaze to Harry's. Harry looks resigned more than hurt, and that hurts Ron even more. He looks back at Cho who, for the first time, is smiling. She gets to her feet and adjusts her clothes. "Thank you, Ron. Now I'm alright."
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