Razor Burn

Rating: T for themes, but nothing else. (I'm not writing smut, does that mean I'm maturing?)

Pairing: Hermione/Sirius

Disclaimer: Nada

A/N: Still working on Shamelessly, though it might be a while, it's definitely on hiatus. I'm leaving for Europe on Wednesday and while I'm out of my mind excited I'm just a little sad about leaving home. So I decided to write up the very silly fic that came to me in the shower. Thanks to everyone who reads!

Razor Burn

"Shave it," Hermione's hands were on her hips, and while Sirius knew that mean business he wasn't backing down.

"I don't want to," he replied, meeting her gaze with a predatory grin, and Hermione pursed her lips.

"You're not touching me with it, that's for damn sure," she said, pouring herself another glass of wine with the same aggressive attitude she had been speaking. More than a few drops landed on the counter. Sirius walked up behind her and tried to take the bottle away, but she turned to him and glared, so he backed off.

"Don't be like that 'Mione," he replied. "I was just trying something new." She raised her eyebrow at the same time she raised her glass.

"You've been trying something new for two months," she said. "I want it shaved."

In the almost three years they had been dating Hermione and Sirius had had their fair share of arguments, over the rights of House Elves and the socially acceptable consumption of Firewhiskey. They had fought over Sirius condoning Fred and George's behavior and Hermione's workaholic tendency. But their fights, while loud, and often times explosive, would always end in even louder and more explosive make-up sex. It had gotten to the extreme where the other occupants of Grimmuald Place truly believed that they only fought to make up and moved out of the house in quick succession.

But based on the topic of conversation, and the searing look in Hermione's eyes, Sirius was pretty sure that he was more likely to end up on the couch, after this argument, than pounding his little nymph into the wall as she screamed his name. But, he simply refused to back down; it was his damn right to go au natural if he was so inclined.

"I'm not touching it," she told him, and her war-fighting stance was on. "Would you touch me if I weren't clean shaven?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I really don't think it's the same thing, 'Mione," he began trying to picture the image she had just conjured.

"How is it not the same thing?" She asked and Sirius simply cocked his head to the side.

"I mean, it's a little different for blokes and birds, Hermione," Sirius said, and he suddenly felt as though he were back in the Black Library, explaining to a young Harry Potter the birds and the bees.

"Plus, it's self expression," he exclaimed. "You can't take that away from me." Hermione folded her arms.

"But I can make you sleep on the couch," she said in response. "Or, better yet, I can show you how if feels."

"It's not like you can just grow—" he began, but paused when Hermione pointed her wand at herself.

"Hermione…" Sirius tried again. "This really isn't necessary." She smirked.

"Shave it,"

"No."

"Fine," she said finally. "You asked for it." She muttered a quick incantation under her breath and large locks of hair began to curl off her body. Sirius closed his eyes and groaned, throwing up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. I'll shave the damn mustache."

A/N: Silly, I know. I was hoping it wouldn't be so predictable, but I suppose it's more work to fix than I feel like putting into it. Hope you all enjoyed!