Chapter Text
“So what are your holiday plans,” Hermione asked. Draco noticed that she was staring intently at his cheek, measuring with her eyes.
He watched her dip the small brush into the almost empty plastic container of paint. It was their last home game of the season during their final year of university and it was tradition for Hermione to paint faces before the group walked over to the stadium.
Everyone else had already migrated over to Harry and Ron’s room in the dorms to start drinking before heading outside into the cold. Hermione had put her foot down first year; face painting could not happen in the same place as the drinking. Once they all started drinking, people began to lose not just their decorum, but their balance as well, and stationary things weren’t safe from being pushed, bumped, or fallen on. If his count was right, three people to date have nearly had their eye poked out by paint brushes.
Draco didn’t live on campus, in fact none of his childhood friends did. Draco had a studio apartment just off campus. It was strange hanging out with the little rag tag group of do gooders and over achievers, the last really only applying to Granger. But nonetheless, thanks to Pansy, he’d become all too familiar with Granger and her friends.
The group dynamic was a little unusual and unnatural if he was honest. First year was very much, “us” versus “them.” There wasn’t a social gathering Potter and his crew would attend that Draco would have been caught dead at. That is until everyone learned that Pansy and Harry were sleeping together. At first no one made any real effort to integrate, but Pansy would not stand for it. She forced herself and her own friends into the lives of all of Harry’s friends. Pansy was obnoxious, aggressive, fiercely loyal, and the worst sort of influence. He grinned at the thought of her admonishing and unrelenting shrillness until she got her way.
“Do you really care about my holiday, Granger?” Draco asked.
“I’m just trying to make small talk,” she said with a sigh. Draco was the last one of their group for her to finish face painting, which was a first, so it was quiet in the room with just the two of them.
“Why don’t you put on some music,” Draco suggested.
She ignored his suggestion and just worked quietly then. There was a chair for her right in front of him but he was too tall for her to sit and be able to adequately work on his face.
“I’ve got nothing enjoyable planned for the holiday. I will be going into my fathers office to work,” Draco said.
“Won’t you be working for him after graduation,” she asked. He nodded, “But you don’t enjoy it,” she added, the inflection in her voice genuinely curious.
Draco had no interest in having a deep and revealing conversation about his future with Granger or anyone else for that matter so he switched the subject, hoping to annoy her. “I have a question for you, Granger. Why is it you don’t have yourself a man?”
“Excuse me,” she said. She’d stopped painting and was now scowling at him.
Something about getting her riled up was always extremely fun. She was sensitive and proper. “I mean you’re not bad looking. Do you think it’s because you’re a prude?”
She stared at him stunned. “Are you drunk or something,” she asked, her tone steely.
“Not drunk,” he said. “Just curious,” he said trying to control the humor in his voice and prevent audible laughter. “It’s just us. Come on. You can tell me. I promise your secret is safe with me.”
She rolled her eyes and continued working.
“You know, it would be sad to graduate a virgin I would think. Men in the real world do generally like some experience.”
“Is it Tourette’s or something? Seriously, why on earth are you so concerned,” she stated. After a beat she rolled her eyes and got back to work.
He laughed. “Perhaps I’m offering my services,” he said.
Her eyes cut over sharply to his again. “What services would those be,” she asked.
“Well, I could teach you,” he whispered
She laughed out loud then. “Teach me? And what is it you could teach me?”
“What men like. I would hate to see a beautiful girl like you miss out on all that uni has to offer.”
“I’m sorry, and sex is one of those,” she asked.
“Oh absolutely,” he replied with a grin.
“I know how to have sex, not that it’s any of your business, Malfoy,” she said primly.
“Really,” he said, “I’m curious about the quality of your teacher.”
“My god, this is totally inappropriate,” she exclaimed.
“Hardly. We’re adults and I’d rather talk about sex than any holiday or work,” Draco replied.
“I am not going to talk about sex with you, Malfoy,” Hermione said, her tone final.
“Oh come on. Tell me just one thing. What is your favorite position? I would guess you’re a missionary girl,” he continued.
Hermione’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re an idiot,” she replied.
“Perhaps,” he whispered but he was staring at her face intently now. She had refocused on her task fully. Her cheeks were a bit flush and her bottom lip a bit swollen from chewing on it while she concentrated all afternoon (almost a dozen faces into her painting). The bridge of her nose and tops of her cheeks were splattered with tiny brown freckles, only a couple shades darker than her warm complexion. Her brown eyes were framed with dark lashes and small curls around her face escaped the hairpin she wore intended to maintain her half-up/half-down style,
He knew she was aware that he was staring at her. She licked her lips and his eyes darted there.
“Close your eyes,” she said softly, a tone I think both of them were surprised she used because it could have easily been mistaken for a “bedroom voice” if they didn’t know better.
He did as instructed and closed his eyes, but not without making direct eye contact which seemed to linger a little too long. How had his teasing led to this moment? There was real tension between them now, unless he was imagining it, and closing his eyes only heightened it for him.
She surprised him then. She did something he never would have expected if given a million tries to guess. She kissed him. Not a firm, sure kiss, but just a brush of her lips. The contact surprised him and he inhaled a stream of air. He opened his eyes just a little to see her centimeters from him with eyes open.
He closed his eyes again, curious about what she’d do next. He felt one of her hands tug the hair at the back of his head and angle his head back so he was looking up more dramatically at her from his seated position.
With his lips still parted, he felt the brush of her lips against his again. With his head back she was able to slot her lips more intimately against his. Her top lip was pressed just against the underside of his top lip and he felt her tongue lightly trace along his bottom lip. He balled up the hands resting on his lap so as not to grab her to him. He felt her top teeth press firmly against the inside of his lower lip as she lightly bit and sucked. He could not stop the moan that escaped his throat.
As she teased his lips with hers, he felt her hands rest on the top of both his shoulders. He then felt a knee come up and nudge his left fist off his lap. His heart immediately started racing as he lifted his other hand and waited. The leg that she used to knock off his hand was draped over the top of his thigh. Using his shoulders for balance, she rested the weight of her body on that thigh so she could bring the other leg up, now completely atop him. She scooted a bit closer to his body by shifting her hips forward, making sure not to actually press herself against him.
Draco knew he could not take the lead or control this situation at all. It was far too precarious, so he did nothing. His eyes were still closed, his hands were away from his sides just hovering over her outer thighs. He waited a moment before opening his eyes again. She was looking at him straight on now.
“This is my favorite position,” she whispered. His eyes widened in surprise. Then she moved her face close to his again and he closed his eyes again. She kissed him again, but this time it was not tentative but sure and possessive. She ran her hands over his arms, assessing his muscles as she went, grabbed both wrists and deposited his hands on the sides of her hips. She brought her own hands back up to his shoulders and then wrapped them around his neck bringing her upper body closer.
Draco followed her lead. They kissed deeply, exploring each other, nipping, sucking, their breaths coming fast and then slow as she changed the pace. His hands stayed firmly in place on her hips. The only thing he allowed himself was a light squeeze of her soft, fabric covered flesh. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and oversized school jersey. He was wearing a pair of dress pants and a cashmere jumper. He felt her fingers undo his belt and pull it from his pant loops. Then her small, quick fingers were undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. The moment she reached her hand into his underpants and wrapped them around his cock he thought he’d pass out. He hadn’t realized until that moment how hard he was. He had to pull away from their kiss in order to get some semblance of control.
“Christ, Malfoy. You’re huge,” she breathed. He opened his eyes and she was staring down at his cock, and he followed her line of sight to where he could see her small hand gripping him. “I’m not going to fuck you,” she whispered. He looked back up into her face.
She pulled her hand from his cock, removed the clip from her hair letting the mess of curls fall, and then pulled the jersey up over her head. She was wearing a smooth, unpadded, nude bra. He could see the outline of her areolas and her nipples pushing against the thin fabric. Then she grabbed the hem of his jumper and pulled it up over his head, careful not to touch the face paint and tossed it to the floor. She looked down at his torso, ran her fingers over the lean muscle, grazing each nipple with her thumb, and dragging them back up onto his shoulders again. Using his shoulders as leverage, she pulled her hips forward fully into his lap, finally pressing her warm center against him. They both gasped at the contact.
Then she began to move him. Rocking her hips forward and back, forward and back. The friction was exquisite. He’d been hesitant to move his hands but as she began to rub herself against him, he let his hands roam. First he kept them solely on her hips, gripping them firmly, pulling her harder against him as she angled her hips, rubbing up the length of his shaft.
As she built up a rhythm he let himself explore more of her. The bare skin of her waist was so soft. He trailed his fingers forward, palming both breasts, which were more generous than he would have guessed before tonight. He started to reach around toward the back of her bra but before he could reach the snaps at the back she grabbed both wrists, lowered them back to her hips, and kissed him again.
This kiss, unlike the previous, was a melding sort of kiss. Because they weren’t truly joined where he so desperately wanted to be, they got as close as they could with their mouths. She pressed her upper body fully against him and picked up the pace, building the tension in their bodies. He could sense her imminent orgasm as her hips snapped and rocked. He had his hands on the globes of her buttocks pulling and pushing her against his cock relentlessly. She’d pulled away from his mouth and focused on their hips and the sensation. She let her head fall back and the next moment he felt her body tense and quiver as she found her release rocking against him. The sight of her alone could have made him come. He pulled her hips up once more against him and he joined her, ropes of cum squirting onto his abdomen.
They both looked down at the mess. She dragged one finger up his body collecting some of his cum and stuck it in her mouth to taste. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped at the sight.
She climbed off his lap and looked down at him, shirtless and covered in cum.
“I’m done with you Malfoy,” she said. She bent down and grabbed her jersey and slipped it back over her head. He watched her walk toward the door and turn back, “Lock the bottom lock on your way out,” she said. Then she shut the door.
He looked back down at himself, tucked his cock back inside his trousers and grabbed his jumper off the floor. He walked quietly to the bathroom, grabbed some tissue and cleaned his abdomen. When he looked into the mirror he saw that his face was perfect. The face paint was done and without a single blemish. He was wholly impressed.
“Christ, Granger. You sure know how to prove a point,” he said with a chuckle.