Exhausted

Hermione stumbled and caught herself on the mantelpiece before she fell flat on her face. She glared at the corner of the rug, silently accusing it of plotting her early demise before moving on.

Never in her entire life had she been so happy to be home. Exhausted, hungry and almost defeated from her job as Charms Mistress at Hogwarts, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with a tub of ice-cream and forget all about the last few weeks. She never thought she would be so happy to see the back of an exam period.

Dropping her bag in the arm chair on her way to the kitchen she tried to remember if she had chocolate or vanilla waiting for her in the freezer... or maybe Florean Fortescue had slipped in a new experimental flavor as he was known to do for his best customers.

She was in the process of removing her heels, using the back of the couch as support when a noise alerted her that she was not alone.

Silently cursing at her lack of awareness, she drew her wand and tried to slow her breathing down; hoping whoever it was hadn't realized they weren't alone either. In that moment of breathless waiting, half expecting a nasty hex to be fired around the corner at her head, she felt awake and more alive than she had in weeks. Her blood was pumping and her adrenaline came at her in a stunning rush, clearing the fuzzy exhaustion from her head and making her forget all about the various flavors of ice-cream she could be enjoying.

Another soft noise in the kitchen, the quite shuffling of feet on the tiled floor and suddenly her other senses kicked in.

Food.

Somebody was in her kitchen cooking.

Somebody was in her kitchen, while she wasn't home, cooking a meal.

It was at this point that she wondered if she hadn't just fallen asleep on the floo ride home to her small cottage just outside of Hogsmead and was dreaming the entire event, but the sensory aspect of the whole occurrence let her know that she was indeed awake and had company.

Any other person would have dropped their defenses, let their guard down, and wandered into the kitchen to solve the mystery. But years of war, the Weasley twins, and now the students who seemed intent on carrying on their legacy, had taught her to be cautious.

Creeping slowly forward - her wand gripped loosely at her side, a counter curse pursed on the tip her tongue - she eased her way to the side of the kitchen door. Her back pressed hard against the fading floral wallpaper as she listened carefully and tried to determine just where in the kitchen her intruder was situated.

He, or she, was near the stove. The smell of a red wine casserole was almost overwhelming with her eyes shut, and despite the potential danger she might have been in she couldn't help when her mouth began to water. She allowed herself a moment of indulgence, breathing the deep meaty smell of the lamb, the almost sweetness of the vegetables and the bitter aftertaste of the wine wash over her in almost sensory overload.

Somebody was in her kitchen cooking. And sweet Merlin could they cook.

Letting the breath ease from her, she opened her eyes and let her wand poke out for the door frame first, and then her foot and finally her whole body followed her. Her head was the last thing to clear the doorway and when it did she came to a complete stop.

"You're home," Remus said, his sandy head bent over the casserole dish, a wooden spoon close to his mouth, "I didn't hear you arrive." he continued without looking at her.

Hermione slumped against the door frame, relief flooding her already tired body and making her even more tired. She had completely forgotten that she had given Remus the spare key to her home, stating that he was welcome there anytime. It wasn't quite living together, but it was still a big commitment for both of them. However, this was the first time he had taken the initiative and come over while she wasn't home.

"Dinner is almost ready, take a seat," he said, flashing her a quick smile before turning back to his dish.

That one glimpse of his scarred face reminded her that it wasn't just sleep and food she had been depriving herself. The physical toll it seemed to take to keep her from her lover's arms seemed just as exhausting at times, and as she sat at the table she couldn't help the small thrill that ran through her at the thought that he might have come over for the same reason.

"How was school?" he asked, after she had finally scraped her way under the table, her eyes taking in the setting for the first time, complete with candles and a flower arrangement. He had been busy.

"I don't know how you did it. Especially with the monthly interruptions," she finally said, dropping her head back. Closing her eyes once again.

"I don't know either, to be frank," he replied, his voice much closer to her now, the smell of his home cooking even closer than before, making her sit back up at attention. Her stomach gave a loud groan, telling her off for a days neglect.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked her, dishing up a generous serve, giving her a reproving frown.

Hermione ducked her head, fiddling with the fork laced between her fingers.

"I had an apple..." she started, but stopped when he kissed her forehead before moving on to his own seat.

"Just lucky I had the urge to cook," he cut in, serving himself.

"Is that what it was?" she asked, stabbing the juiciest piece of meat.

"That and concern for your wellbeing. You're going to burn out if you keep going like you are," he chastised gently, giving her a look as she slipped the first bite between her lips.

She moaned when the rich taste filled her mouth and had to try twice to get her words out, "You worry too much."

"Somebody has to," he said quietly, watching her lick the sauce from her lips.

She didn't reply but took another bite, then another. Her hunger seemed to take over and within minutes she was sitting back, her plate practically licked clean, feeling fuller than she had in days and as content as a sleepy cat. Remus continued to eat the meal he had probably spent hours making, his pace much more leisurely.

"I've missed having you around," he admitted, avoiding her eyes as he poked at a chunk of celery.

"I saw you the other day," Hermione replied, wondering if curling up under the table would be comfortable. Even the couch seemed too far a walk.

"I saw you for ten minutes during your lunch break. I would hardly call that a satisfactory meeting," he said, a teasing glint entering his eyes, making the amber sparkle like polished stones.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling the first pangs of guilt. She had been on her own for so long, that having Remus around a lot of the time was a bit of an adjustment. When it came to her work she had a tendency to become absorbed, and forget everything around her, like food and sleep and especially sex.

"I don't want you to apologize. I just wanted you to know that I missed you. I can't wait for exams to be over."

"Right now, me either."

His grin widened, "I never thought I would hear such words from such a pretty mouth."

"I never realized..." she yawned, "just how much effort it took for the Professors to get everything ready."

"You need sleep, why don't you go to bed and I'll wash up," he prompted gently, finishing his meal and placing his knife and fork gently on his plate.

"Leave the dishes, I'll do them in the morning," she said.

Remus frowned, a look passing over his faces as he stood from the table, "I'll be off then. Don't forget about Ron's birthday on Sunday," he said.

"Wait," and it was her turn to frown, "You're leaving?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"No, I thought you were staying the night," she stood up too, coming around the table. She suddenly understood the look that had crossed his face.

"Do you want me to?" he asked, all of his harbored insecurities creeping up into his voice and posture.

"I could think of nothing better then to have you in my arms right now. I've missed you too," she said, coming the final distance, slipping her arms under his and wrapping herself around him. After a moments hesitation his arms came around too and they stood in the middle of the kitchen hugging.

His steady heartbeat thudded against her ear, and his arms around her made her relax completely for the first time in a long time. The tension she hadn't realized he was holding seemed to slip from his body as well.

She propped her chin on his chest, gazing up the line of his chest to his face. Finding him staring down at her she smiled and felt herself relaxing just that little bit more. Remus felt this and leant down to kiss her lips softly, making them both sigh. When he tried to pull back she bought up one hand, stood on her toes, and repeated the contact, needing the feel of him against her again.

Remus didn't push back or tell her she was too tired. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her tighter and deepened the kiss as if he couldn't get enough of the taste of her either. His arms - which had been passively resting against her hips - slowly rose to engulf her in his embrace, his fingers splaying into the heavy fall of her curls, pressing her even closer to him and holding her there.

Hermione responded with a low sound, a half moan, half whimper that seemed to urge him further along. He backed her up against the wall beside the kitchen door, one hand sliding down the curves of her body before coming to a stop just below her bottom. He gripped the back of her thigh, tipping her hips in to his until she had no doubt just how much he was affected by the kiss.

His tongue battled with hers as the kiss intensified and she let out a surprised squeak when he suddenly lifted her into his arms and practically ran the short distance to the bedroom.

"Remus," she said breathlessly, laughter bubbling from her chest at his eagerness.

He dropped her onto the bed, her body bouncing on the relatively new mattress. He stood above her, staring down at her sprawled form with a predatory look in his eyes.

"I've missed you," he growled.

"It hasn't been that long, has it?" she asked, biting her lips and scooting back into the pillows, watching as he raised his nimble fingers to undo the buttons of his shirt.

"Twenty eight days, four hours and nineteen minutes," he replied, shrugging the cloth from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

"Oh," was all she could form as the sight of his scared chest filled her vision.

"Take off your clothes," he said, his hands now going to his belt, Hermione licking her lips in anticipation of what she would see when he finally removed his pants.

Without taking her eyes off him she undid the clasp of her plain black teaching robe, tugging at the sleeves until it fell around her, trapped under her body. She didn't remember taking off the wine coloured silk shirt or the conservative skirt, but she lay in nothing but her underwear as Remus stepped from his pants, revealing he wore no underwear at all.

With shaky fingers she went to remove the thigh high hose with the pretty lace trim, but his fingers over hers stopped her, "Leave them on," he said, his grinning face becoming a blur as he pushed himself against her once more, kissing her with such passion she wasn't sure she would last the whole way through.

His fingers continued to trace the lacy edge of her hose, earning him a breathy sigh before she pulled him down to her again. His palms smoothed along his chest, coaxing him to push more of his body into hers, his fingers reaching higher as she traced the familiar map of his scars.

She moaned when he cupped her core, a sound that he captured on his lips and swallowed down, feeling her aching hotness seep through the thin cotton material of her knickers. She moved her hips in time to his movements, silently begging him for more.

She broke away to moan when he finally traced the elastic edge, slipping that seeking finger inside to find her wet with readiness. He kissed his way down her jaw, bringing his other hand around her back to undo her bra, spilling her breasts out from the confining fabric like a waiting feast. She shuddered when he licked one taut nipple and gasped in surprise and desire when he echoed that slow sweep of his tongue with the sharp thrust of his inside of her.

Hermione writhed beneath him, overcome by the almost suffocating need to have more of him inside her. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she wanted when he rose from her heaving chest to give her a quick passionate kiss. Dazed, the next thing she knew his hand with withdrawing from between her legs and he had hold of both her ankles, pulling her toward the corner of the bed.

When her legs dangled over the edge and he stood between them looking down at her, she finally found her voice.

"What are you..."

"Roll over," he commanded, that fierce look coming back to make his eyes sparkle again.

Hermione did as he said, rolling to her stomach, flicking her hair from her face so she could stare at him over her shoulder. His amber gaze swept across her pliant curves, followed by his hands tracing the same path, coaxing her to raise first her left, then her right leg so that she was kneeling back onto her heels, her head tucked into her elbows.

She felt terribly exposed in the curled up position, and Remus's purely masculine look told her it wasn't just a feeling. His hands swept up her round backside, tracing the indent where her thighs met her bottom and finding her dripping core.

She had only a second to appreciate the heightened sense of the position before something much bigger than his fingers was pressing against her intimately. He entered her roughly, that first thrust rocking her forward so that her cheek pressed hard into the mattress. She couldn't help the shuddering moan as he withdrew oh so slowly, every inch of his length caressing her walls in a way she never thought possible.

When he thrust again, he angled his hips high, hitting a spotted deep inside that made her shudder and bite her lip. Then he did that same slow withdraw, pressing tight against it as if he knew exactly where it was and just the effect it had on her.

"Oh fuck, Remus," she practically screamed when he repeated the movement, again and again, slowly picking up the pace until she didn't even try to move with him but just let the ride take her over.

As her screams became louder and harsh shivers overcame her entire body, her leant and wrapped himself around her, his arms pulling her tight into the hollow of his torso, his lips adding to the overwhelming feel of it all. She felt that familiar heat spread from her belly, straight to her core, her inner muscles tightening their painful grip around the man who was striving toward that one blissful goal.

"Please, please, please, oh god yes, please," she heard herself chanting, her voicing hitting new octaves as he did that hard thrust and slow pull movement again and again.

"Please what?" she heard him growl in her ear, the sweat they had generated plastering his hair to his head, his entire body slick against hers.

"Make me cum, please Remus, please," she almost sobbed, her begging voice drowning in fresh screams as her world seemed to fill with light and her orgasm hit her hard.

He cried out, the arms around her stomach pulling tighter as she bucked and writhed beneath him, her milking clasps bringing his own release on until they collapsed in a pile of limbs in the corner of the bed, too breathless and sated to move.

After a long while she finally roused enough to move back toward the pillows, collapsing against them with a happy sigh.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall would mind if you sat in the back of my classrooms?" she asked, as he shuffled the few inches until his head was pillowed against her stomach, his eyes closed and his breath indicating how close he was to sleep.

"I think she would have kittens," he mumbled, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Hm, it's a shame really. I haven't been this relaxed in weeks," she mused, a yawn stretching her body beneath him.

Remus repositioned himself and cuddled back into her side, "I might not be able to sit in on your rousing lectures, but I can be here when you get home," he replied, cracking one eyelid to peer at her face.

"I'd like that," she smiled, running her hand through his sandy hair, feeling the pull of sleep.

"So would I," he mumbled, his hand running up her thigh to rest on her hip. They both fell asleep.

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