... 'neath the cover of October skies.
Title: Seeing Beyond
Prompt: R/T in answer to shimotsuki's irresistible invite! I completely didn't wind up using the requested optional prompt (O Tannenbaum), though. In fact, I couldn't do anything Christmassy. I had this same problem last time, I'm afraid. It's hard to write Christmas…
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Lupin/Tonks. And the war. Order work is kind of the great third wheel here.
Rating & Warnings: The whole thing is naked and in bed. If we imagine the sheets working out the right way, Hollywood basically considers this, what, PG-13?
Word Count: 1159. I'm sorry. I'm lousy at drabbles.
Summary: OotP. They have a catch-as-catch can moment. Tonks is still very… innocent, I think, and Remus certainly reclaims a moment for his own.
They were sleeping so warmly and peacefully when the almighty crash a floor above (Kreacher's work, no doubt) roused them. They probably could have shrugged it off if Sirius hadn't started cursing. Tonks, huffing, pulled a pillow over her ears until it was quiet again, and then, finding herself still awake, squinted at the clock. It was six-thirty.
"We're being cheated," she mumbled, not even caring how petulant she sounded. Because she should be petulant, damn it. She hadn't had yesterday off; this was her whole weekend, this Sunday, her day to catch up on all the sleep she had lost and would continue to lose this week. She was starting an eight-hour shift at midnight. He had a transformation tomorrow night. Gah. "Go back t'sleep, Remus."
The petulance died off sharply at the brush of his lips at the back of her neck. Feather-light, but it still made her eyes flutter closed for quite a different reason than tiredness. Then a proper kiss, warm and slow -- he was a master at driving her crazy with sheer leisureliness. And it was invariably brilliant.
"But as long as we're up," she murmured, and she felt his smile at the back of her neck matching her own.
--
Some time later, they were snuggling, pleasantly sated, wakeful but too sleepy to be much energized. Their legs were entwined. Her arm was caught in an awkward angle, but she was whiling the time away pleasantly enough, since her fingers were within playing reach of his hair. The only thing short of perfection was the inevitable draft -- and then Remus pulled the comforter back over them. Tonks sighed, and nestled against his chest.
It was really nice.
Really, really nice, and Tonks let her eyes close to savour it. The world might be mad as hell outside whatever room they happened to be sharing, but she felt that her strength was inexhaustible as long as she got to rekindle it every so often -- catch-as-catch-can -- with him. Even when a doubt began to creep up on her, it couldn't really shake her contentment; it just fell out of her mouth.
"D'you think we'll still have anything to talk about after the war's over?"
She could feel Remus's breath catch beneath her head.
God, there were times she felt like she would happily trade Remus his lycanthropy for her chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome.
"What do you mean?" asked Remus, in a tone that was unreadable even by his standards.
She relaxed. For one thing, she was too pleasantly exhausted to get worked up. For another thing, Remus seemed to merely be bracing himself for the worst; he hadn't actually assumed it. That was something. It was pretty big, actually.
"Well, you know. I don't like your books and you don't like my music. I s'pose I was just worrying that all we had in common was fighting. I don't like to think that once we manage to finally kick Voldemort's arse we'll just wind up drifting apart. You don't think that'll happen, do you?"
She was flattered to hear his heartbeat pick up, even though he said, with his trademark composure, "I... don't think I could ever get tired of you, Tonks."
"Yeah, well." She wrapped her other arm around him, so as not to give him the wrong idea. "Maybe you don't know the extent to which you hate my music yet."
She listened to his heart race for another moment, but at some point it slowed imperceptibly, and a moment later it was about back at the relaxed state it had been before.
"It means a lot to me," said Remus quietly, "that when you think about your future, you see me in it."
Tonks was touched, not so much by the sentiment -- this was Remus, after all, full of good sentiments and armed with the perfect words to express them on every occasion -- but by his willingness to lay himself on the line. That wasn't really Remus's style at all. He was a boyfriend like something out of a dream in many respects, but a girl couldn't count on him exposing himself to her every day. Or even every month. It was enough to say that she doubted that he would have said that, even with the post-coital glow, if they were in a position to meet each other's eyes.
"What about you?" said Tonks, because she handled no one with gloves, not even Ten-Yards-of-Emotional-Space Lupin. "I mean, can you see us together after the war?"
Remus stroked her hair.
"Honestly?" he said. "The way it looks right now, if we can actually manage to win this thing properly, then believing that we can make it is a pretty small leap of faith by comparison."
Tonks groaned. "Thanks a lot, Remus."
She huffed a little, and then tried to reclaim the complete peace she had felt just a moment before. "I didn't mean that it wasn't important to me," said Remus.
"Yeah, I know."
He didn't apologize, but the way he continued to keep running his fingers through her hair spoke of regret if not penance. He felt into a thoughtful silence. Tonks closed her eyes.
"I don't think you have to worry about how much we do or don't have in common, though," murmured Remus. There was a hesitancy in his tone; it didn't slow him down, but it suggested eloquently that he couldn't quite believe that he was saying what he was. "After all... that's why people get married and have families, isn't it? Then they always have something in common."
Tonks's own silence turned from vaguely put-out to a sort of heartfelt speechlessness. If she had been asked what she felt about the thought of marrying Remus Lupin and having his children the day before, she wouldn't have quite known how she felt about it. But now -- perhaps in her astonishment (yet not-quite-astonishment) -- she didn't feel conflicted at all.
"Yeah," she said, a bit breathlessly. "Yeah, I reckon they do."
There was another silence, made less heavy and Grimmauld by the fact that they could hear each other breathing.
Remus had an abrupt outburst.
"Tonks, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- I'm not trying to push -- "
She clambered off of him in order to meet him face to face, grinning when she saw his expression. He was more flummoxed by this than her.
"Good," she said, unable to help laughing at him. "Because as proposals went, that was complete crap. I'll be expecting something with a lot more thought put into it."
Before he could say anything, she pulled him close and kissed him.
She could actually feel when he stopped holding his breath.
--
What she couldn't hear, thanks to her own preoccupations, was Sirius and Kreacher sniping at each other the floor above, and she felt asleep again late that morning, her face still free of any shadows.
Prompt: R/T in answer to shimotsuki's irresistible invite! I completely didn't wind up using the requested optional prompt (O Tannenbaum), though. In fact, I couldn't do anything Christmassy. I had this same problem last time, I'm afraid. It's hard to write Christmas…
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Lupin/Tonks. And the war. Order work is kind of the great third wheel here.
Rating & Warnings: The whole thing is naked and in bed. If we imagine the sheets working out the right way, Hollywood basically considers this, what, PG-13?
Word Count: 1159. I'm sorry. I'm lousy at drabbles.
Summary: OotP. They have a catch-as-catch can moment. Tonks is still very… innocent, I think, and Remus certainly reclaims a moment for his own.
They were sleeping so warmly and peacefully when the almighty crash a floor above (Kreacher's work, no doubt) roused them. They probably could have shrugged it off if Sirius hadn't started cursing. Tonks, huffing, pulled a pillow over her ears until it was quiet again, and then, finding herself still awake, squinted at the clock. It was six-thirty.
"We're being cheated," she mumbled, not even caring how petulant she sounded. Because she should be petulant, damn it. She hadn't had yesterday off; this was her whole weekend, this Sunday, her day to catch up on all the sleep she had lost and would continue to lose this week. She was starting an eight-hour shift at midnight. He had a transformation tomorrow night. Gah. "Go back t'sleep, Remus."
The petulance died off sharply at the brush of his lips at the back of her neck. Feather-light, but it still made her eyes flutter closed for quite a different reason than tiredness. Then a proper kiss, warm and slow -- he was a master at driving her crazy with sheer leisureliness. And it was invariably brilliant.
"But as long as we're up," she murmured, and she felt his smile at the back of her neck matching her own.
--
Some time later, they were snuggling, pleasantly sated, wakeful but too sleepy to be much energized. Their legs were entwined. Her arm was caught in an awkward angle, but she was whiling the time away pleasantly enough, since her fingers were within playing reach of his hair. The only thing short of perfection was the inevitable draft -- and then Remus pulled the comforter back over them. Tonks sighed, and nestled against his chest.
It was really nice.
Really, really nice, and Tonks let her eyes close to savour it. The world might be mad as hell outside whatever room they happened to be sharing, but she felt that her strength was inexhaustible as long as she got to rekindle it every so often -- catch-as-catch-can -- with him. Even when a doubt began to creep up on her, it couldn't really shake her contentment; it just fell out of her mouth.
"D'you think we'll still have anything to talk about after the war's over?"
She could feel Remus's breath catch beneath her head.
God, there were times she felt like she would happily trade Remus his lycanthropy for her chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome.
"What do you mean?" asked Remus, in a tone that was unreadable even by his standards.
She relaxed. For one thing, she was too pleasantly exhausted to get worked up. For another thing, Remus seemed to merely be bracing himself for the worst; he hadn't actually assumed it. That was something. It was pretty big, actually.
"Well, you know. I don't like your books and you don't like my music. I s'pose I was just worrying that all we had in common was fighting. I don't like to think that once we manage to finally kick Voldemort's arse we'll just wind up drifting apart. You don't think that'll happen, do you?"
She was flattered to hear his heartbeat pick up, even though he said, with his trademark composure, "I... don't think I could ever get tired of you, Tonks."
"Yeah, well." She wrapped her other arm around him, so as not to give him the wrong idea. "Maybe you don't know the extent to which you hate my music yet."
She listened to his heart race for another moment, but at some point it slowed imperceptibly, and a moment later it was about back at the relaxed state it had been before.
"It means a lot to me," said Remus quietly, "that when you think about your future, you see me in it."
Tonks was touched, not so much by the sentiment -- this was Remus, after all, full of good sentiments and armed with the perfect words to express them on every occasion -- but by his willingness to lay himself on the line. That wasn't really Remus's style at all. He was a boyfriend like something out of a dream in many respects, but a girl couldn't count on him exposing himself to her every day. Or even every month. It was enough to say that she doubted that he would have said that, even with the post-coital glow, if they were in a position to meet each other's eyes.
"What about you?" said Tonks, because she handled no one with gloves, not even Ten-Yards-of-Emotional-Space Lupin. "I mean, can you see us together after the war?"
Remus stroked her hair.
"Honestly?" he said. "The way it looks right now, if we can actually manage to win this thing properly, then believing that we can make it is a pretty small leap of faith by comparison."
Tonks groaned. "Thanks a lot, Remus."
She huffed a little, and then tried to reclaim the complete peace she had felt just a moment before. "I didn't mean that it wasn't important to me," said Remus.
"Yeah, I know."
He didn't apologize, but the way he continued to keep running his fingers through her hair spoke of regret if not penance. He felt into a thoughtful silence. Tonks closed her eyes.
"I don't think you have to worry about how much we do or don't have in common, though," murmured Remus. There was a hesitancy in his tone; it didn't slow him down, but it suggested eloquently that he couldn't quite believe that he was saying what he was. "After all... that's why people get married and have families, isn't it? Then they always have something in common."
Tonks's own silence turned from vaguely put-out to a sort of heartfelt speechlessness. If she had been asked what she felt about the thought of marrying Remus Lupin and having his children the day before, she wouldn't have quite known how she felt about it. But now -- perhaps in her astonishment (yet not-quite-astonishment) -- she didn't feel conflicted at all.
"Yeah," she said, a bit breathlessly. "Yeah, I reckon they do."
There was another silence, made less heavy and Grimmauld by the fact that they could hear each other breathing.
Remus had an abrupt outburst.
"Tonks, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- I'm not trying to push -- "
She clambered off of him in order to meet him face to face, grinning when she saw his expression. He was more flummoxed by this than her.
"Good," she said, unable to help laughing at him. "Because as proposals went, that was complete crap. I'll be expecting something with a lot more thought put into it."
Before he could say anything, she pulled him close and kissed him.
She could actually feel when he stopped holding his breath.
--
What she couldn't hear, thanks to her own preoccupations, was Sirius and Kreacher sniping at each other the floor above, and she felt asleep again late that morning, her face still free of any shadows.