Written for my RomioneSmut Tumblr blog. Details on this new site are on my profile!

This fic written as a birthday gift for jschulz2 on Twitter. Her prompt for me was Drunk!Hermione. So here we go!

Song Inspiration (also what is playing in the story, and in my ears as I'm writing this): Rolex Sweep (Vandalism Remix) - Skepta

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Count With Me

Loud, thumping beats drummed steadily into the night-club and into Hermione's ears, rendering everything else silent in comparison. She could feel it taking over her body as her heartbeat synced to the rhythm, and she bounced on the balls of her feet in time to the 'boom-boom-boom' of the fast-paced music. And when the lyrics counted from one, two, three, she would count along, mouthing the words to herself as she danced.

Her arms were stretched high up into the fog-filled air, fists rolling over one another and moving up and down while her head bobbed side to side; her hair, half-soaked through with sweat was flying around her head, strands sticking to her neck and also coming dangerously close to whipping across Ron's face who was dancing behind her, his entire front pressed into her back.

She was one of a hundred-plus people, packed into a space that should have only been allowed half the lot that was present. It was purposefully darkened so the beams of colored lights that cut across the room in varying angles were brighter and far more stimulating than necessary.

Blinking slowly, and feeling as though her vision was a step behind in registering images to her brain, she panned the room. Everything became a blur of darkness and brightness, skipping in a slideshow of hazy pictures of moving bodies and lights.

She smiled, letting her arms fall, bent at the elbows, behind her until her fingers found short, soft, and sweaty hair that she knew so well. And trusting him with everything she had, Hermione let her weight drop fully onto Ron's chest, knowing he would plant his feet just right in order to hold her up. She bit her lip as Ron's hands slid from her hips up to her waist, his fingers sweeping underneath her vest to her soft belly until one strong arm was wrapped securely around her while the other was on her neck sweeping damp hair from her hot skin.

"You alright there?" Ron's voice sounded, his lips touching her ear, and even then she barely heard him. With Ron's hips now taking over the dance, moving her easily, although not as on the beat as she was previously, she nodded her head and closed her eyes as her head fell on his shoulder. She could feel him grin into her neck before he pressed a kiss under her ear, making her giggle.

"You're properly pissed," he shouted necessarily into her ear. She laughed along with him as she turned haphazardly into his body, using his arm that was tight around her middle as leverage to keep from falling over. The effort earned her a dizziness that made her hands reach up to grab the sides of her head, as if that would stop the room from spinning. Regardless of her upended senses and off kilter equilibrium, she was surprised to find that she liked the feeling of losing a bit of control, and of letting loose. And she had Ron to thank for that.

Her tall, handsome, ginger man with his large hands and feet, and an even bigger mouth, who would protect her from anything and everything. The same man who, as a boy, would tease her and make her feel like shit, had grown and he loves her unconditionally; he tries so bloody hard to make up for his stupid mistakes every single day, and each time somehow finding a way to place his large foot directly into his even larger mouth.

Hermione held him close and, standing precariously on her tiptoes, swaying despite Ron's hold on her, she yelled into his ear, "You're bloody amazing!"

"Ha! No, you're fucking amazing!"

She grabbed his shoulders and threw her head back, laughing. When she came back up he was grinning so widely, and she could his teeth… he had nice teeth, she thought.

"No, Ron! I fucking love you!" she shouted at the top of her lungs through her laughter as she shook his shoulders, making him grab her more tightly to him. She teetered, and Ron caught her, and this made her laugh uncontrollably.

He caught her laughter in his mouth, kissing her thoroughly right there in the middle of the crowded dance floor with people jostling their elbows, and the music blaring, and the lights flashing red behind her closed eyelids. She opened her mouth to Ron's kiss, to deepen it, and she lifted her left leg to curve around his outer thigh. He grabbed a handful of her thigh, just under her bum, and his fingers came dangerously close to the hem of her denim skirt.

She felt, rather than heard, him growl loudly into her mouth as he ground his hips in her, pulling her roughly, and his hand inched farther up her thigh. She was lost in Ron; his hands on her body, his tongue working its magic inside her mouth and around her own tongue, and his full, soft lips sucking on hers.

They didn't need words to know what the other was thinking, so when Hermione pulled away and her leg dropped back to ground, Ron immediately took her by the hand and practically shoved people of his way, making a path for Hermione to follow behind. She had no idea how he could see where he was going, especially with the mass of bodies everywhere she turned. And it was so dark, and the lights flashing and beaming all over were making her dizzy. But she held onto him, her small hand gripped tightly by his large one, and she knew that he would never let go of her, no matter what.

The questions was: Where the hell were they going?

Hermione soon found out when Ron finally steered them toward a small hallway that held two doors: one labeled "Men's Toilet" and the other "Lady's Toilet". Hermione, still reeling from their trip across the dance floor, found herself with a faceful of Ron's sweaty back when he skidded to a stop in front of her. There was no one else in the small hallway, except the two of them, to which Hermione was grateful because she let out an embarrassing "Oomph!" noise and almost fell flat on her arse.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed, as her vision came into focus and her legs were stable enough to stand, and she pointed at one of the doors. "That's spelled wro-"

"Come on, who cares?" Ron interrupted, raking his eyes down her entire body, and then back up again, grinning wickedly.

"Oh! You want to… in there?" Ron nodded and Hermione covered her mouth, giggling into her hand. She shook her head, even though her insides were quaking after their display on the dance floor.

"I can't," she mumbled into her hand, but Ron either couldn't hear her over the music, or he decided to ignore her protests, and instead read her flushed cheeks and her eyes roving over his body.

He turned her around swiftly, and pushed her against the wall beside the door, effectively trapping her with one arm at the small of her back and the other hand flat on the wall next to her face. She was breathing heavily, all of her giggles were gone, and there was just Ron looking down at her with such open passion and want, a look that told her he needed her, now.

The music was pumping all around them, vibrating her core, and it was still so dark, even in this better-lit hallway. The four consecutive alcoholic beverages that she consumed earlier, and could no longer recall the names for, were also aiding in her lack of rational thought and will power.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore; she grabbed him by the ears and pulled him down to her level, dragging her lips and tongue up his chin, leaving a wet trail, until he was bent low enough to reach his mouth. As soon as she was latched on, her arms flung themselves around his neck, and she propelled her self forward and up, making Ron have to grab and hold her as she also flung her legs around his waist.

"Shit, you're randy and pissed," he groaned in her ear, his voice making her shiver all the way down her spine.

"Oh, god, I need you now, Ron. Please," Hermione panted between sloppy, wet, and open-mouthed kisses she was leaving all over his cheeks, nose and neck.

"Come on, let's do it. We'll be quick,"' he said nodding toward the door to his right. Then he was moaning as Hermione started gyrating her hips on his; and she wasn't being gentle, nor discreet, about it, either. "Bugger fuck."

Next thing Hermione knew Ron had growled and, with a great strength, yanked her off of the wall. With his hands firmly planted under her arse, and as she was still planting kisses anywhere she could put them, he kicked open the door. Hermione squealed as two random men, who were finishing up at the sinks chuckled, clapped Ron on his back, scurried around them, and were out of the door.

"Thanks!" Ron called after them, then went back to devouring Hermione's mouth as he walked them to the sinks and plopped her down on the edge of one of them.

Hermione's entire being was buzzing from the alcohol, and throbbing from the muffled beats of the music pressing in on the walls around them, making their kisses even more fervent and hurried. They knew they didn't have much time, not even when Ron pulled out his wand and sealed the door shut. She thought briefly about disapparating somewhere more private, but neither of them was in any state to do so and not splinch themselves. Besides she was too far gone in her desire for him, that she didn't much care where they were. She just wanted him, inside her, now.

So without missing a beat she worked clumsily at the button of Ron's trousers as he pushed her skirt up and over her hips. Her hand-eye coordination being a bit off, Hermione struggled with the button and zipper, huffing and puffing with increasing irritation.

Ron smacked her hands away and made quick work of his trousers and pants. She found herself without knickers, and before she could wonder how Ron had managed it he was inside her, thrusting hard and fast, and with no evidence of slowing down.

"Oh, fuck yeaaaaaaa!" Ron bellowed and leaned over to suck on her earlobe, nipping it, and thus eliciting a high pitched whimper from Hermione.

She gasped and clung onto him, her nails scraping his back through his shirt as they thrust against each other, at the same time making sure Hermione stayed seated and didn't end up inside the sink behind her. Not an easy task.

"Can't believe… we're doing this," Hermione said and grabbed his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks together and kissing his puckered lips. "Gods, you're so bloody sexy. I love you… uuugghh… yea! yea! oh! god!"

Ron had increased their speed to match the beat of the music as she was talking and ended up making her speechless, and she started writhing atop the edge of the sink as he pummeled into her repeatedly.

"Fuuuuu… I love.. you… too… Hermi-one…."

They were both a whir of clothing and skin as he put all of his effort into what could only be said as: fucking the hell out of Hermione, in the bathroom of a dark, hot, and a bit sketchy looking nightclub, and it turned her on to no end.

His mouth suddenly suctioned itself onto her collarbone, and she bit down on her bottom lip hard, tasting blood, as he spilled into her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and cried out over and over with each wave of pleasure that rolled over her humming body, electrifying her.

And for a moment everything was still, and it must have been a pause in the dance music, as the DJ was certainly ready to 'drop a beat', as they say, and her orgasm was suspended for just as long. And then suddenly everything came rushing back: the music was pumping again, and Ron collapsed against her, his hands still firm on her back to keep her from falling.

She felt like a limp noodle, and her head felt like a bowling ball as she rolled it around on her neck. The dizziness was coming back with full force.


"Oh, shit."

He lifted his head and pulled out of her and, quick enough for a bloke his size who had his fair share of drinks that night, turned her around to face the sink they had just been shagging on top of.

"Hermione… you alright, love? Are you gonna…" Ron asked a he stroked her back.

She closed her eyes as the extreme dizziness passed over her, and she stood slowly upright, shaking her head. "No, yea m'okay. Just a bit… dazed is all."

"You sure? Sobering charm, then?"

"Yea, sure. Thanks," she nodded and heard him shuffling behind her. She pushed her skirt down over her arse, and grabbed her black knickers from the floor, cringing as she stuffed it into the hidden pocket that held her wand, not wanting anything from this place touching her nether-regions. When she turned back around Ron was standing at the urinal, taking a piss.

"Ron, the charm!"

"Sorry! I had to piss like a hippogriff," he said over his shoulder at her. He shook himself, then zipped up again, and plodded his way to the sink, visibly worn out, and obviously chuffed. He grabbed his wand from the floor and, focusing on Hermione's head, whispered a spell. Almost instantly her head was clear and she breathed a sigh of relief. "There. Sorted," Ron said easily and pocketed his wand, then washed his hands. "That was a bloody good shag, yeah? Can you believe we just did that?"

Hermione looked around her, as if noticing their dank and dirty surrounding for the first time. "No, I most certainly cannot."

"I might be ready to disapparate us both. I didn't drink as much as you did, you lush."

"Oh, shut it! I'm sober now, remember?" Hermione said and grinned when he ducked her swiping hand and laughed loudly at her.

"Thanks to my excellent spell work," he said and sauntered up to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing a kiss atop her head.

"It was alright spell work," Hermione mumbled and hugged him around his middle, looking up at him and smiling. "My mouth is still a bit dry."

"Now that I don't need a wand for," he replied with a grin and swooped down to kiss her full on the mouth.

Hermione took her wand out and, with great determination and concentration, given that she was properly distracted, disapparated them both directly to their bedroom.