Cake Mix

vinofaerie

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 07/03/2005
Last Updated: 07/03/2005
Status: completed

Hermione bakes a cake and Harry helps. And there is left over cake mix...

Chapters

1. cake mix

1. cake mix

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Would I want to? Hell yes!

A/N: This is actually meant to be a teaser of sorts. I am working on a companion piece to The Way to a Man’s Heart and this is actually a scene from it that I could not fit anywhere in the story, but wanted to write it none the less. Cute and a little devilish, please R&R to tell me if the whole story is worth posting at all. Oh, and this also play homage to one of my favorite movies of all time. Enjoy!

Cake Mix

I hate my living situation. My flat mate is not only my best friend for ages, but entirely too sexy. And not mine. I come home most nights and she is in a long jumper or a wife beater and boxers. Tonight it’s the jumper and she wants to bake a cake.

Not that a cake bothers me, I love cake. Usually a rich chocolate cake with chocolate icing, something that is like eating sin, strait up. When I come home she has the eggs, water, oil, cake mix box and icing already on the counter. Not even looking at me when I walk in she tells me to put the oven on 350 while she finds the pan. Oh, and while she’s bending over to look in the lower pantry I see a flash of her knickers. They’re pink.

Please keep in mind this is all from the perspective of a guy who has not had a proper shagging in a very long amount of time.

Stretching to the tips of her toes she reaches for the top cabinet for a mixing bowl and tells me to check the dishwasher for a clean spoon. I stare a little too long at her curvy and long legs before I respond and get the spoon. I oil the bottom of the pan according to the box directions (Hermione is very strict on always following direction, especially ones put into effect by Duncan Hines) while she combines all the ingredients into the clear glass bowl. She tells me about her day and how they made her read an entire volume on cures and medicine for different magical maladies, and chocolate was a cure for most common ailments. I’m just watching her mouth and tongue move.

“Can you hold the bowl above the pan while I spoon all the batter out?”

I nod and lift the bowl.

“I’ve been craving this all day. I swear, the wizard who wrote the medical study on chocolate must have had an euphorically erotic revelation because every word he used to describe it was sensual beyond belief. Um, there was velvety, creamy” half the batter poured out on it’s own, “sinfully sensuous,” she scooped out the remnants, “and luscious warmth.”

Hermione held the spoon out in front my mouth.

“You want to lick the spoon?”

I shook my head no.

She shrugged and took the bowl from me to place it on the counter, spoon inside. I went to put the cake in the oven but she stopped me first.

“I have to add something.”

Taking a bag of chocolate chips out the cabinet she ripped open the edge with her teeth (I once again was fascinated with the actions of her mouth) and sprinkled the chips all over the top.

“I haven’t been craving chocolate all day to suffice myself with a mundane cake.”

“I thought chocolate was already sinfully sensuous on it’s own.”

“That’s why I added more. Want to watch a movie? It’s a bloke’s shot ‘em up flick, but it has elements that appeal to the female population as well.”

“And just what would those elements be?”

Hermione smiled and picked up the mixing bowl. I took this as my signal to put the cake in the oven.

“A sweaty and nearly naked Brat Pitt.”

She winked at me.

The chit actually winked at me.

Hermione waved her wand at the oven and left. She was always good with timing spells. I forgot them and let food burn all the time.

I followed her to the living room. Hermione already had the remote in her hand and the bowl nestled in her lap on the sofa. I saw the empty case for Fight Club on the coffee table and thanked Merlin for a woman who didn’t make me watch Gone with the Wind the way Lavender had done.

I sat on the sofa, stiff backed despite it’s pillowy comfort. Hermione had her legs hiked up and all I could see out my peripheral vision was the creamy stretch of her thighs all the way to her hip. Wasn’t creamy one of the words she used earlier for chocolate? Great, now I’m picturing her thighs covered in chocolate.

I look at the tele. Edward Norton has the gun in his mouth an he is starting his narration. Good distraction…

until she slides next to me and cuddles into my side.

“Want some now?”

Once again she has the chocolate batter covered spoon in front my mouth.

I shake my head no.

“Your loss.”

I watch as she begins to lick the spoon.

Her eyes are intent on the screen as the tip of her pointed pink tongue slowly slides from the base of the spoon to the top. Merlin, I can’t take this.

“Hey!”

I took the spoon from her.

“Changed my mind.”

“Suit yourself. That just means I get the bowl.”

Shite, why did I do that?

I look over and I watch as Hermione takes one finger and wipes away a thatch of batter from the side of the bowl and inserts the finger in her mouth.

Then slowly removes it.

And bites the tip of her finger.

What was I thinking?

Hermione wasn’t paying any attention to me, and I’m thankful for that.

“I love this movie. Have you every read the book by Chuck Palahniuk?”

I shook my head no. She replaced her finger inside the bowl and began to languidly swirl her finger like she was teasing the bowl. I began to dread when she would decide that it was time to clean that one too.

‘It’s odd because the book is actually more of a romance. Marla Singer has more to do in it as well. The movie’s language is very true to Palahniuk’s style as well. I think that’s why I love this movie so much, it actually stayed near the book.”

She put her finger in her mouth.

My pants were uncomfortable before, but now I shift on the sofa and cross my legs so she won’t notice. Bob and his bitch-tits are on now. I watch that for a while. It helps me a little.

“Harry, how many times have I made you watch this movie?”

Meat Loaf is telling Edward Norton to cry. This was helping my situation considerably up till I heard the auditable pop of her finger leaving her mouth and I thought of her and another image in my head.

“At least twenty, I think.”

I can hear the thoughtful tone in her voice.

Now I’m fighting for a way to not look at her, to not respond to her. I know Hermione enough to know that if she has something to say I don’t need to put in conversational prompts.

“Cornelius. Harry, do you know what Edward Norton’s character’s name is?”

Shite, she expects an answer.

“No, I don’t remember.”

Hermione leans into me more and I feel her fingers on my chin as she forces me to look her in the eyes. There is a spot of chocolate on the edge of her mouth.

“I’ve made you watch this movie at least twenty times and you don’t remember?”

“You have chocolate on the side of your mouth.”

I watched in mental anguish as her tongue once again made an appearance to clean up batter.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“No, I don’t remember.”

Hermione gave me the I-know-something-important-and-I’m-about-to-tell-you grin.

“That’s because it’s never said. You know the names he puts on his ‘Hi, my name is’ tags, but never his. Marla even makes a comment about it when they exchange numbers. It’s like he isn’t real unless he’s Tyler. Then, he’s named.”

“Like ‘In death we have a name‘?”

She smirks. She’s so cute when she does that.

“And his name is Robert Paulsen.”

She resumes her batter eating and my mind only says one thing:

I am Jack’s raging erection.

“Are you going to finish your spoon? You’re just sitting there with it in your hand.”

I look to my right. There it is, in my hand and not being touched. I put it in my mouth, not anything like Hermione was doing, but serving it’s purpose none the less.

“You know, we could discuss what significance Edward Norton’s character not having a name means. Think about it. If in Project Mayhem there are only have names in death, what does it say that everyone else has a name and he doesn’t? Does that mean that he is the only one truly alive? Does that mean when he dies he actually then becomes Tyler Durden? What do you think?”

Leave it to my Hermione to over think a great movie about guns and sex with Helena Bonham Carter. I took the spoon out my mouth.

“Maybe it’s just a movie. He is the one narrating it. When you’re talking do you ever say your own name? He doesn’t need an introduction. The movie starts with him and a gun in his mouth. That makes your misplace your manners, I’m sure.”

“Thank you for sharing Thomas.”

I stuck my tongue out at her.

She did the same to me.

“What?” I’m trying my best to mock offence with the big rubber spoon back in my mouth. “Does it have to something deep and philosophical every time we watch a movie?”

“Hush,” she elbows me, “Cornelius is about to cry.”

A short while later when Marla becomes a power animal I hear the pop again. I close my eyes and groan inwardly.

“You okay?”

“Smashing.”

A brown battered covered finger makes it’s appearance in front of my face.

“Your spoon’s done.”

I turned to her and smiled. There is no way she’s serious. I thought of the way she had been licking that same finger for the better part of the last twenty minutes. I thought of the way I had to keep my legs very uncomfortably crossed so that she wouldn’t notice the situation her and that bloody finger were putting me in. I thought it was time I made her a little uncomfortable in return.

“Thanks.”

Holding her wrists I steadied her hand as I took her finger in my mouth. Slowly pulling her hand away I let my tongue glide across the bottom of her finger and my teeth bite the tip as I pulled away. I watched in interest as Hermione’s eyes widened and the brown of her eyes went from cinnamon to dark chocolate.

It was my turn to smirk.

“Got any more.”

Hermione looked at the bowl. It was empty.

“That was the last of it.”

She almost sounded regretful.