First Fight

[ - ]
Printer ePub eBook
Table of Contents | - Text Size +
Story Notes:

Note: This is a bit sappy! What can I say? I was in a romantic and fluffy mood today!
Loosely based on Countess Mary’s challenge: Hermione/Blaise, Angsty make up sex, Blaise in a leather three quarter length jacket, Fighting until they finally just go at it, dark setting, either in the forest or by the lake at hogwarts

Originally Posted: August 22, 2004

“Hermione, get back here!”


“Bloody hell,” Blaise Zabini cursed as he watched the stubborn brunette witch storm out of the sitting room, his hand running through his thick black hair before he moved to follow her. They were at his family’s home in Italy and it was Hermione’s first time at the estate so he had visions of her going out and getting lost or hurt. Otherwise, he probably would have let her walk off her anger and spent his time glaring at the fireplace or throwing something. He grabbed the leather coat she had bought him for Christmas, putting it on he reached the front door.

It was black leather and expensive, falling to his thighs, and he knew it had to have cost her a small fortune. She’d been so pleased with it and he, well, he’d behaved like a complete jerk. He had no particular dislike of Muggles, but that didn’t mean he wanted to wear their clothing. She had seen his slight grimace when he’d opened the gift, giving him a hurt look that let him know she wasn’t pleased with his reaction. That had been the beginning of their first real argument in the three years that they had been dating and it had not yet ended, Hermione storming off into the cold night instead of calming down so they could discuss it.

There had been fights, of course, both of them opinionated and intelligent and often debating various topics. But they had never had such an emotional outburst before, never had he seen such a stricken look in her pretty brown eyes, and never had he actually lost his temper. He was always in control of his emotions unless they were making love, that being the only time he allowed himself to just let go and feel. He was normally easy-going and quiet, never allowing anger to dictate his actions, but tonight he had just lashed out when she had snatched the coat back and glared at him, making a comment about him being a Pureblood snob.

She had been upset and he knew mid-way through the argument that he had fucked up, but it was too late by then. There had been accusations about him not liking her family since they never spent the holidays in England with them. There had been accusations of her being overly sensitive and bossy. He honestly didn’t even know everything that had been said, the two of them facing off and yelling and making the silliest accusations but too angry to notice how foolish they were being. When he had told her that if she didn’t like his superior Pureblood ways, she knew where the door was, he’d watched her eyes flash with pain and tears before she’d turned and run out. It was only then, in those few seconds, that he realized what he had said and how it sounded.

Blaise had tried to call her back, the fight leaving him as quickly as it had arrived when he’d seen that look in her eyes and realized he was the cause, but she’d refused and left the house. This was not how he had planned to spend Christmas, searching the forest after dark with only the light from his wand to guide him. It was freezing cold and he could see his breath, but he couldn’t find Hermione. He pulled the leather coat tighter as he walked, his hands moving into his pockets to keep them warm. The coat was extremely warm, which surprised him.

Blaise had never had any Muggle clothing before but he had felt Hermione’s enough to assume that the majority was thin and soft. The leather was a lot like Dragonhide, thick and rough and warm. It didn’t have the same protective qualities, of course, but it wasn’t as awful as he had expected. In fact, the scent was rather pleasant and he could very well get used to wearing it.

He wished he’d had that epiphany before his initial reaction. It had been a surprise to find Muggle clothing in the box, and he’d been nervous about his plans to finally propose to Hermione, thinking that a proposal by firelight on Christmas Eve would be romantic and insure that she said yes. He knew she loved him, just as he loved her, but he couldn’t help worrying that she’d say no.

He’d been so preoccupied with his anxiety over his upcoming proposal, that he’d not been able to hide his reaction at the Muggle clothing. Now, she was angry and hurt and wandering around the forest on his family’s property in the dark, cold night. He’d be lucky if she didn’t hex him and then leave him, much less accept his proposal of marriage.

As he walked, he thought over what she had said, wondering if she honestly believed him to be a Pureblood snob. They usually spent their holidays somewhere tropic, loving to lay in the sun and make love with an ocean breeze surrounding them. This year, he had asked her to his family’s home because of his intentions to propose, wanting somewhere familiar to give him more confidence to assuage the fear that she would say no.

It had never occurred to him that she would want to spend the holidays with her parents. She had never asked him to visit their home and he had only met them once, during a birthday party last year. He had found them friendly and personable, his behavior not all condescending just because of their blood. Blaise had never been bothered with the prejudices of those in his House, believing that true intelligence and skill were not determined by one’s parents.

The majority of Slytherins proved that since most of them were not overly bright or adept with magic despite their Pureblood heritage. It bothered him that she thought of him in that way, her tone similar to how she would address Malfoy during an argument about blood, Blaise not at all thrilled about being considered in the same manner as the blond wizard.

Of course, he had said several things in the heat of passion that he didn’t believe or feel so maybe she’d just lashed out in the defensive way she tended to when she was trying to protect herself. He didn’t find her bossy, loving that she was determined and able to take control of situations and be a leader amongst her peers. He admired her intelligence and loved her perspective of the world around them, finding it as arousing to have a conversation with her for hours and listen to her thoughts as he found having her naked in his arms. His ideal was having her naked in his arms while they were having a conversation, of course, but he found everything about his witch arousing and exciting.

He finally found her standing by a tree in a small clearing. She had her arms wrapped around herself and she was crying, the tears on her face as she stared at the sky. Blaise simply stood at the edge of the area and looked at her. She was so beautiful, so perfect for him, and he may have ruined the possibility of a future with her because of this blasted Muggle coat. He took a step forward, his boot snapping a twig. She whirled around to face him, her hands rubbing the tears from her cheeks as she glared at him. The moonlight casting her in an ethereal glow that literally took his breath away.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“You’re freezing,” Blaise said softly, watching her breath form a cloud of smoke in the crisp night air.

“Blaise, just go back to the house,” she sighed as she turned away from him, not wanting to see the tempting sight he presented. His thick black hair was disheveled, a sign that he had been running his fingers through it, something he did when he was upset or nervous. She was cold, her thin robe not producing enough warmth and the tears on her cheeks causing her face to be wet, causing another chill to rush through her.

They had had their first real fight. Screaming and glaring and she’d even thrown something, hurt that he’d not been excited about her gift. It was a leather coat, something he had admired when they’d been out shopping in Muggle London one day months ago. She had been surprised when he’d admired it but thought it would make a great surprise for Christmas.

After saving money, she had enough to buy it and had assumed he would remember it from that wonderful day they had spent together. They’d had lunch and done some shopping and then made love for hours, slow and gentle until they’d both collapsed in each other’s arms. It had been a peaceful, happy day, much like her life with Blaise, and the coat had seemed a wonderful way to commemorate how much they loved each other.

They debated and bickered but neither ever really lost their temper, always making up before going to sleep. They were both passionate in bed and there was passion in their lives, but they were both quiet and not often ruled by their desires outside of their private life. Tonight, she’d been hurt that there had been no sign of recognition in his eyes, just a look of disgust and a comment about Muggle clothing.

She had gotten defensive, accusing him of being a Pureblood snob just like the rest of Slytherin and it had gone downhill from there. When he’d told her she knew where the door was, she’d felt as if someone had hit her hard in the stomach, the fight out of hand and she’d been devastated that it had reached a point where he told her to get out of his house. She’d left, needing to think, to figure out what had happened and try to understand why they had been fighting that severely in the first place.

“Damn it, Hermione, talk to me!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Hermione turned to face him, “You told me to leave so I left! You have no right to follow me out here and yell!”

“I didn’t mean it,” Blaise whispered, his indigo eyes looking into her sad brown eyes, “I’m sorry. I promised that I’d never hurt you, that I’d never make you cry.”

“You can’t make promises like that, Blaise,” Hermione softened slightly when she saw the lost and remorseful look on his face. “People fight. They say things they don’t always mean and they hurt each other. It’s part of life, part of love.”

“I can’t lose you, Hermione. I love you so bloody much. You’re my life, my happiness. The only person that really knows me, that cares about me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, “but it hurt me, Blaise. I can’t lie and say that I can forget what happened. It was a fight, our first real fight, and it was awful, but people in love fight all the time. We just need some time to calm down.”

“I like the coat,” Blaise spoke up, “I was just surprised when I saw it, love. I didn’t expect it and I reacted badly.”

“It’s not about the coat,” Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, not wanting to admit the real reason she was upset, the fact that he hadn’t remembered that particular day. It was silly, looking back on it now, to have thought he’d remember some random afternoon. He was a romantic guy but even the most sensitive wizard in the world wouldn’t recall every moment they shared together.

“Then what is it?” Blaise asked with some confusion. He moved closer to her, removing his leather coat and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“It’s nothing.”

“Hermione, talk to me.”

“Merlin, Blaise, just drop it!” Hermione finally yelled, watching his eyes flash as he looked at her.

“No!” Blaise said sharply, “I want to know what’s wrong!”

“You’re such a stubborn, annoying arse!”

“Do you,” he hesitated, “do you want to break up with me? Is that what this is about? You don’t love me anymore?”

“I love you , Blaise,” she smiled tenderly when she saw the vulnerability in his eyes, knowing that he was as new to this relationship thing as she was, being even more lost than her when it came to loving someone and understanding relationships. She admitted quietly, “Sometimes I think I love you too much.”

“I don’t understand,” he brought his fingers up to caress her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears.

“Harry’s birthday present,” Hermione finally told him, “the day we went shopping?”

A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he slowly nodded, “We spent the day in Muggle London. Shopping and we had ice cream and walked in the park and then we went home and spent the rest of the day making love and didn’t get out of bed except to use the toilet and get some food.” His eyes suddenly widened as he looked a the coat, “This is the coat, isn’t it? The one in the window that I remarked looked attractive?”

“I was stupid for buying it,” Hermione muttered, “I thought you liked it and it would be a nice surprise. I never thought we’d end up having such a row over a bloody coat!”

“You could never be stupid, love. I didn’t remember,” Blaise confessed, “I remember that day, how you felt in my arms, the expression on your face as you came, the way you touched me, but I didn’t remember the coat. Merlin, it’s freezing out here.”

“We should go back to the house.”

“You look beautiful in the moonlight,” Blaise told her as he moved closer, his hands moving around her waist, warming up beneath the leather coat. “Are we still fighting?”

“Blaise, you’re not supposed to ask that,” Hermione had to laugh softly, “I don’t know. We said some horrid things to each other.”

“Yes, I remember,” he made a face, “I believe my favorite was ‘Pureblood prat with a wand stuck up his bum’ though you know all too well that I’m not overly fond of having things up my arse.”

“You seem to enjoy my fingers there,” Hermione teased before saying, “personally, I think my favorite was ‘opinionated overly-sensitive frizzy haired Gryffindor’.”

“I love your hair,” he smiled sheepishly, “we did get a bit ridiculous, didn’t we?”

“All over a coat,” she snorted, “trust us to have our first major fight over something so silly.”

“First?” a dark brow was arched as he looked at her.

“Fighting is part of being a couple,” Hermione shrugged, “I assume it will happen occasionally.”

“Really?” he frowned before he slowly smiled, “I guess there would be one benefit to fighting. You’re ravishing when you’re angry.”

“Blaise Andrin Zabini!” Hermione glared at him as she went to hit shoulder, his hand catching her wrist and pulling her against his hard body. He lowered his head and kissed her, his large hand moving along her back to cup her arse.

“The make up sex is pretty good, too,” he whispered before kissing her again, forgetting the cold night air as he felt his body heating up. She kissed him back, her tongue possessively entering his mouth as she tried to take control of their kiss. He wasn’t having that, not this time. Usually he was content to let her have the power the majority of the time when it came to their sexual relationship, but there were times that he enjoyed having the ability to slowly make her lose control and come apart in his arms.

Tonight, he had plans for his witch. He felt horrible about their argument, even more so that it was his fault, and he planned to spend all night making it up to her. But, for now, he let his lust take over as he moved his hands to her waist, unbuttoning and unzipping her Muggle jeans, needing to be inside her as quickly as possible. He had hurt her, made her cry, and he didn’t deserve her soft smile or loving look, but he wasn‘t about to give her a chance to change her mind about forgiving him.

Hermione couldn’t remember ever seeing Blaise like this before, her lover usually very tender and teasing. Their sex life was extremely pleasurable and she had no complaints whatsoever about Blaise’s fondness for spending hours making love. He was considerate, gentle, playful, was willing to try anything she suggested, loved to simply hold her even if they weren’t having sex, and made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with his soft caresses and lusty kisses and loving eyes.

No matter how wretched she felt, even in the midst of her monthly when she was snapping at everyone around her and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball with a bowl of ice cream, one look, one smile, one word from Blaise and she felt better. It was cliché and foolish and entirely too girly for a woman that prided herself on not being typically feminine, but it was true. He made her feel cherished and gorgeous and loved.

His hands were unzipping her jeans, fingers touching her lower abdomen, the brunette witch realizing that he meant to take her right there, in the midst of the dark forest with only the moon and their wands for light. His actions were desperate, rough, exciting. She felt a wave of desire spread over her at seeing her normally calm lover driven by need, his kiss dominant, his body pressing against hers. She was on fire, her nipples hard, her juices flowing, oblivious to the cold as he moved her against a tree. Hermione couldn’t feel the rough bark through the leather coat, robe, and sweater she was wearing, but she did have a moment of worry about his coat before remembering that they could easily repair it if the bark scratched it.

Blaise used his knee to push her jeans down, realizing that the logistics would have been much easier had she been wearing a skirt. She shifted, raising her leg and removing her shoe before she pushed her jeans off one leg, rubbing the leg against his as she nibbled on his lip. He groaned as he pressed her against the tree, two fingers moving between her legs, finding her soaking. Rubbing his fingers against her pussy, he deepened the kiss, sliding them into her and stroking her as her hands moved behind his back.

“Please,” Hermione whispered as she moved against his hand, her hands tangling in his thick black hair, her voice breathless and needy. She was beginning to feel the cold on her bare legs, desperate to have him inside her, warming her with his body.

Blaise unfastened his pants, freeing his erection, brushing it against her wet lips as he kissed her. He lifted her, her legs moving around his waist, entering her completely. She gasped as he buried himself inside her, her fingers tightening their grip in his hair as her body arched. He began to move, sending her against the tree with each thrust, his lips moving along her cheeks and neck as they fucked. The air was chilly but they were unaware of the cold as they moved together, though his arse was bared to the brisk wind and a bit frosty, motivating him into going deeper, wanting her orgasm before they went back inside.

Hermione clutched his shoulders as she moved up and down on his thick cock, the sounds of her moaning and his grunting mixing with the sounds of the forest, the moon bathing them both in its ethereal glow. They both wanted release, their usual teasing and playfulness absent during their mating, his hands gripping her arse hard enough to probably leave bruises, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. She sucked and nibbled on his neck, leaving a mark that would linger for days, her pussy clenching around his cock as she felt a familiar tightness. With a cry of pleasure, she came, her muscles tightening around him, her head falling back as she stared at the sky before bringing his lips against hers.

Blaise thrust into her half a dozen times after her orgasm before he followed her in release, sinking deep inside and coming with a grunt. He kissed her as she milked his cock, his hands squeezing her bum as she continued moving against him. Reluctantly but fearing they’d get ill if they stayed in the cold much longer wet with sweat and release and half naked, he slid out of her. The raven-haired wizard fixed his trousers as Hermione pulled her jeans on, a sated smile on her pretty face. His lips curved into a loving smile as he looked at her, thinking that she looked beautiful in the moonlight after being thoroughly shagged.

“Marry me, Hermione,” he said softly, his plans for a romantic proposal in front of the fireplace after hours of making love not seeming so important now. Following their fight and the fear that she might leave him, he just wanted to know if she’d be his forever.

“What?” Hermione gaped at him, unable to conceal her surprise at his words. They’d just had a horrible row and then fantastic urgent sex and now he was talking marriage.

“I had plans to ask you tonight,” Blaise sighed, “I’ve been bloody nervous all day, worried you’d say no, but I had it all arranged to be romantic and wonderful, but this feels right. Asking you here in the middle of the forest with the moon above and you looking so beautiful and ravished. I love you, Hermione Jane Granger, and it would make me the happiest man in the world if you’d accept me as your husband. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered as fresh tears filled her brown eyes, a smile crossing her lips as she nodded, “Yes, I’ll marry you, Blaise. I love you so much.”

“You will?” he smiled as he moved forward and swung her into his arms, kissing her as she laughed at his excitement.

“Blaise, put me down,” Hermione laughed, a large smile on her face as she placed kisses all over his face, “it’s freezing out here. Why don’t you take me inside and make love to me all night, darling?”

“We’re not even married yet and you’re all ready being a demanding vixen,” Blaise sighed dramatically before he winked at her. With a devilish smile, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him as he walked back to the house, her lips brushing against his cheek before she rested her head on his shoulder, sighing happily as she snuggled against him.

*the end*