Serpents, Chapter Five (Part Two)
Title: Serpents (5/?)
Author: MrsTater
Rating & Warnings: R for sexuality
Prompts: weakness; "In the light of Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."
Word Count: 14650 words
Summary: Two years into a relationship with Remus, and the correct way to deal with full moons continues to elude Tonks, dredging up her insecurities and memories of painful past failures. Voldemort's attack on a fellow Order member puts everything into perspective for her...But will Remus see the light?
Author’s Notes: A leap into the future in the Caring For Magical Creatures universe, which I think should stand alone even if you've not read that fic, though the background might make more sense as it's a POA-era R/T romance. This chapter refers specifically to a one-shot written for that ficverse, entitled You Should Know..., which might be background you should know for the flashback.
Finally, the fic lives up to its rating and warning. I cannot thank Godricgal enough for putting up with my whinging as I muddled through this monster of a chapter. All typos and impossibly long, awkward sentences are mine, as it's crunch time and no time for a beta!
Prologue: Judgment Day | 1. Vicious Cycle | 2. Up From the Grave | 3. Between the Woman and the Serpent | 4. In the Waiting Room | 5. What Was and Is and Is To come (Part 1) |
In the bedroom, Tonks quickly shed every stitch of her clothing, utilising her new pig hangers for her jumper and jeans, and stowed them, in the wardrobe, chucking everything else in after it, not very tidily. Not a bright start to the organised leaf she was supposed to turn over, but maybe it would make a better New Year's resolution. Right now, she simply couldn't be bothered. If she was going to finish this morph before the five minutes were up and Remus joined her, she needed every second she could spare.
Standing far enough across the room that she could see her entire body in the full-length wardrobe mirror, Tonks surveyed her completely nude form (except for the charm bracelet on her wrist, which she never took off) and drew several slow, deep breaths to steady herself. She'd never done anything like this before. Well -- she'd practiced, of course, in the bathroom of her flat, when Des wasn't home, to be sure she could do it without taking an age. But she'd never morphed for Remus as part of their foreplay.
On principle, she found the notion of being anything but herself during such an intimate act absolutely abhorrent; and Remus had never once caused her to fear what had always held her back from going very far with a bloke, that he saw her as potential to fulfil his every fantasy. Tonight she planned to remain fully herself, making a change that only went, quite literally, skin deep. Yet she wondered just what Remus' reaction would be when he stepped through that door and saw what she'd done. Would he like it?
She felt exactly as she had the first time she'd stood here, minutes before they'd made love for the first time -- she for the first time ever -- two years earlier.
They hadn't been kissing long before Remus' lips on hers made her feel as if her insides were aglow like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree, as if the blood was burning and crackling as it pulsed through her veins like the fire blazing in the grate. His hand had slipped beneath the hem of the sweatshirt and settled, gently curved, over her breast. The tip of one of his long fingers traced the edge of her bra, working a magic that at once warmed her and made her shiver, prickling up gooseflesh in his finger's path.
Tonks' own hands were buried in his hair, which shifted silver and gold in the flickering light. She let the long, soft threads slide between her fingers till she reached the ends, at his shoulders, then slipped one hand inside his collar. His skin was so warm...
As she drew him toward her, pressing her mouth harder against his until their lips seemed to melt into one another, Remus' hand slid from her breast round to her back. For a moment his fingers dallied at the closure of her bra, either struggling with a half-hearted attempt to undo it, or undecided about whether he ought to. She didn't mind if he did -- wanted him to, even; but just as she withdrew her hand from his collar, intending to reach around and assist him, his hand drifted away from her bra, down to the small of her back where the other had been resting all along.
He didn't stop there, but allowed his palm to skim over the waistband of her jeans, past her hips to the curve of her bottom. Tonks pushed herself slightly off the floor as she felt the pressure of his slim fingers slipping between her and the hearthrug, lifting her level with his lap as his hand on her back pulled her in to him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and squeezed her knees against his sides, loving the feel of his body touching so much of hers, even if there was a layer of clothing separating them. Apparently he did, too -- assuming that was what that low sound he made, which vibrated all through her, meant.
Liking the sound of him as much as the feel of him, Tonks tested it by applying the pressure of her legs again.
She didn't mean to push her hips down into his; it simply happened.
Instead of the rumbling sound in his throat, Tonks heard and felt the hiss of Remus' sharply indrawn breath, then the sudden lack of warmth as he pulled his lips from hers.
Her pulse, already an uneven staccato from the heated kisses, fluttered even more wildly against the thin skin of her wrists as she watched Remus, eyes still closed, catch his breath -- bringing himself back under control. Oh God -- she hadn't meant to take the lead like that. She'd only responded to how he made her feel...Apparently, though, that wasn't what he felt. She'd misread his actions.
But how could she have done? They'd talked about sex -- her virginity; his hope of taking their relationship to the next level during this holiday. If it was true that actions spoke louder than words, well -- his hand on her breast spoke of a man who believed what she'd said about hoping the same, for her first time.
Fear promptly turned on its heel and fled, however, when Remus' blond lashes parted to reveal blue eyes that were brilliantly bright with desire. In case his eyes had not been crystal clear enough for her, he slipped the tips of his fingers just inside her jeans.
And in case those still had not managed to give her the picture, he asked, huskily, "Shall we take this upstairs?"
While Tonks was fully aware that the ear-to-ear grin splitting her face, making her cheeks ache, probably wasn't a bedroom smile, she couldn't hold it back. It wasn't just because Remus Lupin wanted to take her to bed, though that did have a great deal to do with it. With any other bloke, that would have been a line -- a pretty seduction, whispered in her ear as his stubble rubbed her cheek. Remus, on the other hand -- he had looked her in the eye as he asked it, concern etched on his face, inquiring whether she wanted to go to bed with him. Even more than that, he had avoided the words go to bed completely, preserving their Christmas holiday from agonising awkwardness of crossed intentions that would arise should she not want that.
Barely able to contain a giddy giggle that would certainly make him change his mind, Tonks said, "I take it that by 'upstairs' you mean 'to the bedroom we're sleeping in -- but not to sleep.'"
"And I take it that by being a smart arse..." Remus' eyes gleamed wickedly, and his hands -- both of them, this time -- slid underneath her and squeezed her bum. "...you mean yes."
She half-shrieked, half-laughed his name as he locked his fingers together and, in a swift, steady movement that, apart from a small 'oof' of effort, belied his slender build, he stood, lifting her up with him.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Lupin?" she cried, clinging to his shoulders as she crossed her ankles at the small of his back.
Her scolding was pretty ineffective even as playful admonishment, due to the fact that she was ridiculously thrilled at the show of masculine robustness. Not to mention a set of very vivid images of him carrying her upstairs...laying her carefully on the bed...kissing her again...removing her clothing piece by piece...covering her body with his...
He raised a sandy eyebrow. "Would it be more suited to an Auror for me to club you over your head and drag you upstairs by your hair?"
"Least then I'd have an excuse for not fighting back."
His chuckle rumbled deliciously against her chest, and all through her, as he leaned in for a kiss. So thoroughly distracting were all the sensations of him that the next thing she knew, she was standing on her feet again -- if it could be called that when you couldn't feel the floor and had to cling to the front of your boyfriend's jumper to keep your balance as the world spun pell-mell and at a crazy angle on its axis.
"Actually..."
His tone, though very quiet, barely above a whisper, somehow contained the authority to still everything again. Or maybe it was his bright eyes looking keenly down at her.
"I thought you might like a few minutes to yourself, to..." He paused, glanced upward as though the next word had drifted up there. "...to prepare."
Walking up the narrow staircase (or had she floated?) after that was the one thing Tonks couldn't recall about that night which, otherwise, was imprinted in her memory with startlingly vivid clarity. It was another of the many Christmas miracles to befall her that she hadn't injured herself, because she too preoccupied to focus on climbing stairs; all her concentration focused on trying to wrap her brain around the fact that Remus had, for all intents and purposes, asked her to put on lingerie. But not for himself -- though he would, undoubtedly, reap the benefit. His quiet suggestion had been all for her.
She had entrusted him with the truth that this would be her first time to be intimate with a man. He had not simply filed it away as something to be prepared for, but had been mindful of it in every action toward her from that point onward. Their snogging session in the living room might have turned into lovemaking right there on the floor -- had been, in fact, headed that way. But Remus had slowed them down, seeing to it that her first time would not pass in a blur of kisses and touches she might one day write off as the heat of a moment; instead, he ensured it would be a moment entered into deliberately, and regarded as special, a once in a life time moment.
So it had been with a remarkable calm that she'd changed into a sheer, silvery-white camisole and knickers set, more troubled about what colour and how to do her hair than about what was to come as she waited for Remus.
Reassured by the memory, and by the reminder she wore on her wrist -- Mannaz, which held creativity on high as a virtue -- Tonks scrunched up her face to carry out her morphing plans.
She changed her hair from green spikes to deeper green ringlets that cascaded her shoulders. Next, slightly trickier, in that it would require more energy than she was used to expending on morphs during intimate encounters, came her skin -- pale, shimmering gold from head to toe. And finally, running in a diagonal over all of that, a pattern of holly sprigs. Which took a hell of a lot more time and effort than it had during her practice run in the bathroom, because then she hadn't factored in a swarm of butterflies taking up residence in her stomach, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.
At last she managed it, and she hadn't yet heard Remus' step on the creaky staircase -- though she was pretty sure more than five minutes had passed since she'd begun working on the holly pattern alone. Either he was being a gentleman, or he'd got absorbed in his new book.
He'll wish he'd stayed down there reading when he sees you in this get-up! she thought as she clipped the finishing touch -- a tag which read, To Remus; Happy Christmas, Yours, Elphine -- to a lock of hair, and surveyed her gilt, green-haired reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
Great Merlin, Tonks, what in bloody hell are you thinking? This is bizarre! You're mad! If Remus ever thought about asking you to marry him, he never will now that you've pulled this little stunt. You'd best change back into a normal human being before he--
He was standing in the bedroom doorway, his image reflected over her shoulder in the mirror.
"Elphine," he said, voice low, muffled, as if he'd got something lodged in his throat.
Sick, probably. Cos what you've done is so--
"Have you...?" He was approaching her, slowly, eyes travelling over her backside, down her legs.
As he neared, Tonks saw that the look on his face did not belong to a man who thought his girlfriend had gone completely mental and lost all sense of taste. He reached his hand out, fingertips touching her side tentatively -- reverently -- as if he'd never seen anything quite like her, as if he thought she was wonderful, but not quite real. She darted her eyes upward to meet his gaze in the mirror.
His Adam's apple bobbed. There was a smile in his eyes, which started to spread to his lips, but didn't quite, as if he couldn't entirely believe he was truly seeing it.
"Have you gift-wrapped yourself?" His eyes settled on her hair, and his other hand reached up to shift the tag to an angle at which he could read it. He swallowed again and, grinning, added, "For me?"
Though relief had banished the tight, anxious feeling in her chest, Tonks still couldn't find it within herself to give more of an answer than to nod. She wasn't sure what she'd imagined he would do -- in fact, she hadn't let herself go there, lest she imagine the worst and chicken out -- but she certainly hadn't expected him to look so...Well...so dark-eyed and mesmerised, watching with a satisfied smile as his fingers splayed across her middle.
"How do I unwrap you?" he whispered.
His left hand trailed through her curls, down her neck, and across her chest, settling cupped over her right breast. Still watching in the mirror out the corner of his eye, he nuzzled her face, and pressed his lips to her cheek.
Tonks relaxed her morph minutely.
A holly sprig and the bit of gold background his lips had touched, returned to her natural pale skin tone.
Remus' eyes flicked up to hers, and she grinned. "Like that."
"Like this?"
Shifting slightly behind her, he lined his bottom lip up perfectly with the top edge of the patch he'd "unwrapped."
He kissed her, and revealed another bit of her skin.
And another.
The butterflies inside her, which had given up their nervous flapping, beat their wings with joy now as his light, sweet, tingle-inducing kisses made quick work of her face.
And everything else, as the sensations, the shivers of pleasure caused by his lips and his caressing fingers and his body pressed behind hers, became too much for her to concentrate on the morph.
"Damn it!" cried Tonks.
Chuckling, Remus kissed her shoulder "I'm sorry. I've always been a bit impatient when it comes to unwrapping my gifts. And I must say, that was the sexiest gift-wrap I've ever encountered."
Though pleased, Tonks joked, "Just don't expect that sexy gift-wrap on all your--"
She cut herself off with another exclamation, though this time only an incoherent squeal, as Remus swept her up in his arms and turned to carry her to the bed. Carefully he laid her down, then, stretching himself out alongside her, whispered that she was the best Christmas present he could ask her, and commenced with kissing every inch of her anyway...
Her sharply indrawn breath as his lips closed around her nipple was the only sound in the room, and consequently rang very loudly in her own ears. Tonks caught her lower lip between her teeth, as much because she felt sheepish as because what he was doing to her nipple simply called for a reaction like catching your lower lip between your teeth.
Remus' blue eyes which, prior to now had been so intent on her breast, turned up to her face. Tonks bit her lip harder as she felt pink prickle into her cheeks, until the pleasant pull of his mouth on her nipple relaxed just slightly as his lips curved in a gentle smile. The look in his eyes, which was always in his eyes, was kind; he didn't mind her little gasp.
As she looked back at him, though, she realised it was a bit more than mere kindness. Not, of course, that kindness was anything to sneer at, especially not at a time like now. His silvery fringe falling over his forehead was downright sexy, lending a certain worldliness to the way he was looking at her. Not smugness, exactly, just...
Confidence. That was it. Remus knew she liked what he was doing. He liked that he knew she liked what he was doing...Oh hell. It was too hard to think when he'd resumed doing that thing she liked...
And now with the added bonus of his other hand -- the one not cupping her breast -- which had been tangled in her hair, gliding over her cheek...her neck...her other breast...His hand continued its path still lower as he shifted his body to lie more alongside of her, skimming her side, her hipbone, lingering there a moment to fiddle with the string bikini strap of her knickers, before drifting on to stroke her inner thigh.
Though, with Remus' deft fingers and supple lips and -- oh sweet Merlin! -- his tongue working magic on such sensitive spots, she was, by the millisecond, being pulled closer and closer toward a plane where coherent thought did not exist, his steady blue eyes continued to hold hers -- except for when hers fluttered closed with her gasps -- and kept her brain somehow engaged. So far, she was enjoying her first time at lovemaking very, very much. Of course she suspected strongly there was a much more suitable verb than "enjoy" to apply to this situation. While she didn't know much in the way of experience, she did know in both head and heart that it took two to really make love. It was give and take. So far, she'd just been taking.
Which was made abundantly clear by fact that while she had only a scrap of sheer fabric on that hardly counted as knickers, he still had on his vest and trousers. And his belt, for Merlin's sake. What kind of girlfriend didn't at least help her boyfriend out of his--?
Oh. dear. God.
She might have said it aloud. She might not have. She really couldn't be bothered which, because Remus' fingers had wandered from her inner thigh, and Tonks thought she'd never wanted to -- or ever could want to -- do anything other than press her hips into his palm.
"Are you all right?" Remus whispered, having stopped kissing her breast and pushed up on his elbow at some point she could not recall. Probably around the moment he'd begun concentrating his efforts elsewhere...
"All right?" Tonks repeated, feeling a bit stupid, at least in the speech department, but not caring terribly, as she felt absolutely alert and alive elsewhere.
Remus smiled, then bent his head to kiss her lips, murmuring that he just thought he'd check and be sure.
The kiss, Tonks thought, was strangely sweet and tender in comparison to other things that were going on at the moment. Not that the other things weren't tender, as well, and not that she didn't like the contrasting tone of the kiss. Quite the opposite, in fact, as she was pretty sure that the half-moan, half-sigh she'd just made against his lips, and one of her hands reaching up to rub his stubbled cheek, was the result of the kiss. It was just...interesting, and rather surprising, how much was going on in this moment.
What talk she'd heard of sex was that it was a forward drive of lust, of passion, a whirlwind of lips and hands and other bits, all vibrant colours and wild tempos, clothes flying off and sweat-slicked bodies tumbling together in a tangle. Now she thought about it...or not thought, exactly, so much as experienced...She'd been imagining a rock concert, not a bedroom scene. Which made sense, she supposed, seeing as she'd been to a lot more rock concerts than she'd read bedroom scenes...
Of course, anything might make sense in a moment when Remus Lupin was doing things with his hands that felt like the spell equivalent of a Euphoria Elixir, and doing really fantastic things to her ear with his tongue, as well. Both of which were causing so many gasps that very little oxygen was actually making it to her brain.
Somehow in the midst of not having fully-functioning faculties, Tonks realised when Remus raised his head again and watched her intently, smiling, as he carried on with his ministrations, that the unexpected element in this was precisely what she had noticed a moment ago...or however long ago:
Even though Remus had invited her for this holiday weekend with him partly because he wanted to sleep with her, right now his singular thought seemed to be her. Not how much he wanted to be with her, but how much he wanted to make her first time a pleasurable one for her. Thus every kiss, every caress, was bestowed deliberately, with the utmost care.
And not carefully in the sense that he touched her tentatively or treated her like a delicate flower or some medieval damsel who needed a knight in shining armour to make great gallant gestures because she was a member of the weaker sex. Far from it, in fact, as his touches evoked increasingly bolder vocalisms and movements from her in response.
To be sure, his actions spoke of his full awareness in the difference in their ages and experience. However, Tonks sensed that Remus would be an attentive lover to whomever he was with. Sensitivity in bed wasn't a great leap for a man whose defining qualities were kindness and compassion that sometimes verged on the empathic, was it?
All of which, including the return of that thought about give and take, culminated in Tonks pressing her hand over Remus', ceasing the movements of his fingers.
His forehead crinkled slightly, sandy brows knitting together, and he swallowed. "Are you...?"
"All right, yes," Tonks said, breathlessly. "Better than all right. Fantastic, even."
Remus smiled, but it was laced with confusion and didn't quite fill his eyes. "Then why...?"
It seemed so strange to be talking about this, with a bloke she fancied the pants off of (despite the fact that she hadn't quite managed to get the pants, or the trousers, off him yet) and who she desperately wanted to get this right with. And it seemed even more strange that she wasn't blushing hotly, or even a little bit warmly, at least not to her knowledge.
Of course, she had told him she was a virgin. There wasn't much you couldn't say to a bloke after you'd said that. Especially when he'd been perfectly cool about it, and then done all he'd done tonight to put her at ease, and make it good.
In that light, it didn't seem strange at all. She'd trusted him, and he'd honoured that, every step of the way. Not once since that kiss in front of the fire, which had ignited the spark that sent them here, had she feared this. Remus would make it the best it could be for her. She trusted her pleasure to him, completely.
The one concern she did have was that she might be too novice at this to please him.
But she would damn sure try.
She leaned in and kissed him, twining her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. It wasn't an especially deep kiss, nor did it linger, but his breath hitched, and his body told her that he felt it as deeply as she'd wanted him to.
Drawing back just enough to meet his eye, she said, "Cos I want you to be fantastic, too."
"I am," he insisted, tracing his index finger along the curve of her cheek, then twirling a strand of her hair around it. "I am perfectly content to wait till you're ready...And if you decide you're not quite ready to go all the way--"
She cut him off with another kiss, which left him dazed-looking and tousled and gasping for air. Her, too. But her thoughts were all for him.
Reaching for his belt, she said, "I'm ready when you are..."
So Remus undressed. Rather than feeling shy at seeing him naked, Tonks understood how he had been so content to watch her, because her insides all lurched with delight, her heart skipping a beat, to see how eagerly he divested himself of belt, trousers, vest...she swallowed hard...underpants.
Not to mention she was plain pleased with what she saw. Remus' hair might be grey and his face a little careworn, but his slender, smooth body presented a more accurate picture of a wizard in his prime. His wasn't a toned, athletic build, such as Des went on about with her Quidditch blokes and Kingsley, but his trim limbs and waist bore witness to the active traveller's lifestyle he'd kept before teaching at Hogwarts, and Tonks thought it suited him -- and her. Certainly nothing about him without his clothes cried "werewolf" any more than when he had clothes on. Where was his scar?
She didn't wonder for long. As she ran her eyes over his body, taking in all the new bits of him that were hers to explore, she forgot all about scars and instead thought of how many kissable spots there were on him: the hollows of his collarbones, the patch of pale skin below his navel, ringed by a trail of fine golden hairs, the dimples just above his hipbones...
He sat at the edge of the bed, facing her, unself-consciously watching her watch him. Tonks smiled, and reached for his hand, and Remus twined his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his mouth.
"Come here," she said, tugging at his hand.
His eyes glanced sidelong at her body stretched out beside him, then moved to her eyes again. Asking permission.
Tonks rolled her eyes, but smiled, and let go of his hand to touch his knee. She just stroked his thigh with her fingertips, marvelling at the softness of the hair against her skin, surprised at how such a tiny sensation as that could make her tummy constrict.
"Come here," she said again, sliding her hand higher up his thigh.
Remus shifted to slide one leg over her, her stomach muscles coiling tighter as the bare skin of his inner thigh made contact with the bare skin of her hip. Oh, God! She sucked her breath in sharply as he straddled her, sitting up on his knees. But amid the pleasant sensations of him testing his weight against her, she glanced down and realised one thing had been forgotten.
"Wait!" She shot out one hand, pressing her palm to his chest, to hold him off her. Alarmed lines started to ghost his features, until she explained, "My knickers."
He grinned, then, glancing down at the tiny scrap of material that left nothing to the imagination, before meeting her eyes again. "You don't have to--"
"They'll get in the way if I don't." She reached down for the straps at her hips and, on very bold impulse, moved her hips beneath his.
She watched his stomach suck in, and glanced up at his face just in time to see his eyelids flutter, and felt the response of other bits.
Bloody hell. Had she really done that to him?
He opened his eyes, and looked down at her a little blearily.
"You see?" Grinning, she moved again. "They're already in the way."
Remus needed no further encouragement to help her out of her knickers. He pulled them down with a flourish, and dropped them over the bedpost, which made her laugh --
--but her laugh ended abruptly, with a hiss as, instead of straddling her again, Remus delicately wrapped his long, thin fingers around her ankles, and began kissing his way up her legs, back to her. She tried to make a sound of indignation that he was doing it again, thinking only about her when it was his turn to be thought about, but it was impossible to be indignant about something that felt so wonderful.
When his lips reached her thighs, however, and his kisses, bestowed amid his own heavy breaths, had her trembling and taut beneath his hands on her hips, her hands clutching and twisting the sheets, she wrapped her legs around him, nudging him over her.
"You're ready," she said.
He ducked his head, grinning sheepishly. "Well yes, but--"
"I said when you're ready--"
"You're ready."
His gentleness made Tonks conscious of how sharply she'd spoken to him, but apparently he wasn't bothered -- looked a little touched, in fact. And then she wasn't analysing tones of voices or facial expressions because he was sliding his hands over her waist and breasts again as he positioned himself over her and oh God, they really were going to do it...
Hands coming to rest on either side of her head, his forearms brushing her shoulders, he hovered over her, looking into her eyes for a long time. His expression was so earnest that for a moment she wondered if he was going to tell her he loved her, which was at once a thrilling and terrifying prospect, because that would be a huge step she simply wasn't ready for, not on top of the leap she was already taking, here in bed with him.
Thankfully, when Remus spoke, it was only to whisper to her to try and relax, and to assure her that he would take his time and be very gentle, and to tell her stop him if anything was uncomfortable, all of which struck her as the sort of things that might have been very condescending from some blokes, but when Remus said them, she only felt his consideration and respect...His lips brushed hers softly, sweetly, as he touched her, then--
Tonks gasped.
It hadn't hurt, precisely, when Remus had pressed into her. But it was, undeniably, different than anything she'd felt before, and comfortable definitely wasn't a word she'd attach to it in any way. He remained very still, looking at her, anxious lines criss-crossing the corners of his eyes.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Instead of answering, Tonks glanced down at their bodies.
Their joined bodies.
Despite the discomfort, a warm, pleasant flush stole through her, and her insides quivered.
That was her.
And that was Remus.
She was doing this. With him.
She was so, so glad it was him.
Sudden tears pricked her eyes, and she squeezed them shut.
"Elphine," Remus whispered. His weight on her shifting as he moved one hand to stroke her hair back from her face. "Are you all right?"
She opened her eyes, and smiled up at his face, which through her tears appeared to shine. Then she moved, wrapping her legs around the backs of his, which at once decreased the uncomfortable pressure on her as pleasure washed beautifully over his face.
"I told you," she whispered as she arched into him, "I'm bloody fantastic."
When they finally rolled away from each other, Tonks scrunched up her nose and turned her green ringlets into bubblegum pink spikes, giggling a little as she wondered whether Molly was being eaten alive with curiosity to know the story behind why Remus fancied the pink, and what she would think if she knew it was simply an impulsive thing Tonks had done after their first time.
Remus, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath, turned his head on his pillow and grinned at her. "Feel pink?" he asked, just as he had then, and every time after.
"I reckon I owe you another pressie," Tonks said by way of reply, "since I got a lot out of that, as well."
Remus raised his hand and scuffed her cheekbone with his thumb. "You don't owe me a thing, Elphine. I won't be forgetting how you looked gift-wrapped for some time. I imagine it'll Conjure a Patronus or two..." He yawned, hugely, too sluggish from sex to get his hand to his mouth in time to cover it. When it passed, he looked at her through droopy eyes. "You gave me you. What more could a man ask for?"
Tonks could think of something.
Something more she could be.
Dare she say it?
In light of what they had just done, she thought back to where it had all begun, the first time. Trust. They were here now because she'd trusted him with her body. Since then, since she'd fallen in love with him, that trust had only grown; though broken once, it had only got twice as strong with the mending.
You trust him completely, said her heart. That's what you told Molly. So tell Remus!
Scooting closer to him, nestling into the crook of his arm, she rested her head on his shoulder and spread her hand over his steadily beating heart. When he had covered her hand with his own, she asked, "What about a bride?"
For a breathless, endless moment, Remus didn't answer. Had she stunned him? Was he asleep?
He nuzzled her temple and whispered, "You'd make a beautiful bride."
Then his chest rose and fell heavily, and Remus was sound asleep.
Tonks, however, remained wide awake.
A/N: If you actually made it through this, I'm very impressed and love you forever. If you can spare another moment to let me know what you thought, I'll show my appreciation by offering reviewers your very own gift-wrapped Remus -- in your choice of wrapping material. ;)
I think there's one chapter left, and possibly an epilogue. And I *think* I can do it by the Thursday deadline. Although the operative word might be dead...
Read Chapter 6.
Author: MrsTater
Rating & Warnings: R for sexuality
Prompts: weakness; "In the light of Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."
Word Count: 14650 words
Summary: Two years into a relationship with Remus, and the correct way to deal with full moons continues to elude Tonks, dredging up her insecurities and memories of painful past failures. Voldemort's attack on a fellow Order member puts everything into perspective for her...But will Remus see the light?
Author’s Notes: A leap into the future in the Caring For Magical Creatures universe, which I think should stand alone even if you've not read that fic, though the background might make more sense as it's a POA-era R/T romance. This chapter refers specifically to a one-shot written for that ficverse, entitled You Should Know..., which might be background you should know for the flashback.
Finally, the fic lives up to its rating and warning. I cannot thank Godricgal enough for putting up with my whinging as I muddled through this monster of a chapter. All typos and impossibly long, awkward sentences are mine, as it's crunch time and no time for a beta!
Prologue: Judgment Day | 1. Vicious Cycle | 2. Up From the Grave | 3. Between the Woman and the Serpent | 4. In the Waiting Room | 5. What Was and Is and Is To come (Part 1) |
In the bedroom, Tonks quickly shed every stitch of her clothing, utilising her new pig hangers for her jumper and jeans, and stowed them, in the wardrobe, chucking everything else in after it, not very tidily. Not a bright start to the organised leaf she was supposed to turn over, but maybe it would make a better New Year's resolution. Right now, she simply couldn't be bothered. If she was going to finish this morph before the five minutes were up and Remus joined her, she needed every second she could spare.
Standing far enough across the room that she could see her entire body in the full-length wardrobe mirror, Tonks surveyed her completely nude form (except for the charm bracelet on her wrist, which she never took off) and drew several slow, deep breaths to steady herself. She'd never done anything like this before. Well -- she'd practiced, of course, in the bathroom of her flat, when Des wasn't home, to be sure she could do it without taking an age. But she'd never morphed for Remus as part of their foreplay.
On principle, she found the notion of being anything but herself during such an intimate act absolutely abhorrent; and Remus had never once caused her to fear what had always held her back from going very far with a bloke, that he saw her as potential to fulfil his every fantasy. Tonight she planned to remain fully herself, making a change that only went, quite literally, skin deep. Yet she wondered just what Remus' reaction would be when he stepped through that door and saw what she'd done. Would he like it?
She felt exactly as she had the first time she'd stood here, minutes before they'd made love for the first time -- she for the first time ever -- two years earlier.
They hadn't been kissing long before Remus' lips on hers made her feel as if her insides were aglow like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree, as if the blood was burning and crackling as it pulsed through her veins like the fire blazing in the grate. His hand had slipped beneath the hem of the sweatshirt and settled, gently curved, over her breast. The tip of one of his long fingers traced the edge of her bra, working a magic that at once warmed her and made her shiver, prickling up gooseflesh in his finger's path.
Tonks' own hands were buried in his hair, which shifted silver and gold in the flickering light. She let the long, soft threads slide between her fingers till she reached the ends, at his shoulders, then slipped one hand inside his collar. His skin was so warm...
As she drew him toward her, pressing her mouth harder against his until their lips seemed to melt into one another, Remus' hand slid from her breast round to her back. For a moment his fingers dallied at the closure of her bra, either struggling with a half-hearted attempt to undo it, or undecided about whether he ought to. She didn't mind if he did -- wanted him to, even; but just as she withdrew her hand from his collar, intending to reach around and assist him, his hand drifted away from her bra, down to the small of her back where the other had been resting all along.
He didn't stop there, but allowed his palm to skim over the waistband of her jeans, past her hips to the curve of her bottom. Tonks pushed herself slightly off the floor as she felt the pressure of his slim fingers slipping between her and the hearthrug, lifting her level with his lap as his hand on her back pulled her in to him. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and squeezed her knees against his sides, loving the feel of his body touching so much of hers, even if there was a layer of clothing separating them. Apparently he did, too -- assuming that was what that low sound he made, which vibrated all through her, meant.
Liking the sound of him as much as the feel of him, Tonks tested it by applying the pressure of her legs again.
She didn't mean to push her hips down into his; it simply happened.
Instead of the rumbling sound in his throat, Tonks heard and felt the hiss of Remus' sharply indrawn breath, then the sudden lack of warmth as he pulled his lips from hers.
Her pulse, already an uneven staccato from the heated kisses, fluttered even more wildly against the thin skin of her wrists as she watched Remus, eyes still closed, catch his breath -- bringing himself back under control. Oh God -- she hadn't meant to take the lead like that. She'd only responded to how he made her feel...Apparently, though, that wasn't what he felt. She'd misread his actions.
But how could she have done? They'd talked about sex -- her virginity; his hope of taking their relationship to the next level during this holiday. If it was true that actions spoke louder than words, well -- his hand on her breast spoke of a man who believed what she'd said about hoping the same, for her first time.
Fear promptly turned on its heel and fled, however, when Remus' blond lashes parted to reveal blue eyes that were brilliantly bright with desire. In case his eyes had not been crystal clear enough for her, he slipped the tips of his fingers just inside her jeans.
And in case those still had not managed to give her the picture, he asked, huskily, "Shall we take this upstairs?"
While Tonks was fully aware that the ear-to-ear grin splitting her face, making her cheeks ache, probably wasn't a bedroom smile, she couldn't hold it back. It wasn't just because Remus Lupin wanted to take her to bed, though that did have a great deal to do with it. With any other bloke, that would have been a line -- a pretty seduction, whispered in her ear as his stubble rubbed her cheek. Remus, on the other hand -- he had looked her in the eye as he asked it, concern etched on his face, inquiring whether she wanted to go to bed with him. Even more than that, he had avoided the words go to bed completely, preserving their Christmas holiday from agonising awkwardness of crossed intentions that would arise should she not want that.
Barely able to contain a giddy giggle that would certainly make him change his mind, Tonks said, "I take it that by 'upstairs' you mean 'to the bedroom we're sleeping in -- but not to sleep.'"
"And I take it that by being a smart arse..." Remus' eyes gleamed wickedly, and his hands -- both of them, this time -- slid underneath her and squeezed her bum. "...you mean yes."
She half-shrieked, half-laughed his name as he locked his fingers together and, in a swift, steady movement that, apart from a small 'oof' of effort, belied his slender build, he stood, lifting her up with him.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Lupin?" she cried, clinging to his shoulders as she crossed her ankles at the small of his back.
Her scolding was pretty ineffective even as playful admonishment, due to the fact that she was ridiculously thrilled at the show of masculine robustness. Not to mention a set of very vivid images of him carrying her upstairs...laying her carefully on the bed...kissing her again...removing her clothing piece by piece...covering her body with his...
He raised a sandy eyebrow. "Would it be more suited to an Auror for me to club you over your head and drag you upstairs by your hair?"
"Least then I'd have an excuse for not fighting back."
His chuckle rumbled deliciously against her chest, and all through her, as he leaned in for a kiss. So thoroughly distracting were all the sensations of him that the next thing she knew, she was standing on her feet again -- if it could be called that when you couldn't feel the floor and had to cling to the front of your boyfriend's jumper to keep your balance as the world spun pell-mell and at a crazy angle on its axis.
"Actually..."
His tone, though very quiet, barely above a whisper, somehow contained the authority to still everything again. Or maybe it was his bright eyes looking keenly down at her.
"I thought you might like a few minutes to yourself, to..." He paused, glanced upward as though the next word had drifted up there. "...to prepare."
Walking up the narrow staircase (or had she floated?) after that was the one thing Tonks couldn't recall about that night which, otherwise, was imprinted in her memory with startlingly vivid clarity. It was another of the many Christmas miracles to befall her that she hadn't injured herself, because she too preoccupied to focus on climbing stairs; all her concentration focused on trying to wrap her brain around the fact that Remus had, for all intents and purposes, asked her to put on lingerie. But not for himself -- though he would, undoubtedly, reap the benefit. His quiet suggestion had been all for her.
She had entrusted him with the truth that this would be her first time to be intimate with a man. He had not simply filed it away as something to be prepared for, but had been mindful of it in every action toward her from that point onward. Their snogging session in the living room might have turned into lovemaking right there on the floor -- had been, in fact, headed that way. But Remus had slowed them down, seeing to it that her first time would not pass in a blur of kisses and touches she might one day write off as the heat of a moment; instead, he ensured it would be a moment entered into deliberately, and regarded as special, a once in a life time moment.
So it had been with a remarkable calm that she'd changed into a sheer, silvery-white camisole and knickers set, more troubled about what colour and how to do her hair than about what was to come as she waited for Remus.
Reassured by the memory, and by the reminder she wore on her wrist -- Mannaz, which held creativity on high as a virtue -- Tonks scrunched up her face to carry out her morphing plans.
She changed her hair from green spikes to deeper green ringlets that cascaded her shoulders. Next, slightly trickier, in that it would require more energy than she was used to expending on morphs during intimate encounters, came her skin -- pale, shimmering gold from head to toe. And finally, running in a diagonal over all of that, a pattern of holly sprigs. Which took a hell of a lot more time and effort than it had during her practice run in the bathroom, because then she hadn't factored in a swarm of butterflies taking up residence in her stomach, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.
At last she managed it, and she hadn't yet heard Remus' step on the creaky staircase -- though she was pretty sure more than five minutes had passed since she'd begun working on the holly pattern alone. Either he was being a gentleman, or he'd got absorbed in his new book.
He'll wish he'd stayed down there reading when he sees you in this get-up! she thought as she clipped the finishing touch -- a tag which read, To Remus; Happy Christmas, Yours, Elphine -- to a lock of hair, and surveyed her gilt, green-haired reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
Great Merlin, Tonks, what in bloody hell are you thinking? This is bizarre! You're mad! If Remus ever thought about asking you to marry him, he never will now that you've pulled this little stunt. You'd best change back into a normal human being before he--
He was standing in the bedroom doorway, his image reflected over her shoulder in the mirror.
"Elphine," he said, voice low, muffled, as if he'd got something lodged in his throat.
Sick, probably. Cos what you've done is so--
"Have you...?" He was approaching her, slowly, eyes travelling over her backside, down her legs.
As he neared, Tonks saw that the look on his face did not belong to a man who thought his girlfriend had gone completely mental and lost all sense of taste. He reached his hand out, fingertips touching her side tentatively -- reverently -- as if he'd never seen anything quite like her, as if he thought she was wonderful, but not quite real. She darted her eyes upward to meet his gaze in the mirror.
His Adam's apple bobbed. There was a smile in his eyes, which started to spread to his lips, but didn't quite, as if he couldn't entirely believe he was truly seeing it.
"Have you gift-wrapped yourself?" His eyes settled on her hair, and his other hand reached up to shift the tag to an angle at which he could read it. He swallowed again and, grinning, added, "For me?"
Though relief had banished the tight, anxious feeling in her chest, Tonks still couldn't find it within herself to give more of an answer than to nod. She wasn't sure what she'd imagined he would do -- in fact, she hadn't let herself go there, lest she imagine the worst and chicken out -- but she certainly hadn't expected him to look so...Well...so dark-eyed and mesmerised, watching with a satisfied smile as his fingers splayed across her middle.
"How do I unwrap you?" he whispered.
His left hand trailed through her curls, down her neck, and across her chest, settling cupped over her right breast. Still watching in the mirror out the corner of his eye, he nuzzled her face, and pressed his lips to her cheek.
Tonks relaxed her morph minutely.
A holly sprig and the bit of gold background his lips had touched, returned to her natural pale skin tone.
Remus' eyes flicked up to hers, and she grinned. "Like that."
"Like this?"
Shifting slightly behind her, he lined his bottom lip up perfectly with the top edge of the patch he'd "unwrapped."
He kissed her, and revealed another bit of her skin.
And another.
The butterflies inside her, which had given up their nervous flapping, beat their wings with joy now as his light, sweet, tingle-inducing kisses made quick work of her face.
And everything else, as the sensations, the shivers of pleasure caused by his lips and his caressing fingers and his body pressed behind hers, became too much for her to concentrate on the morph.
"Damn it!" cried Tonks.
Chuckling, Remus kissed her shoulder "I'm sorry. I've always been a bit impatient when it comes to unwrapping my gifts. And I must say, that was the sexiest gift-wrap I've ever encountered."
Though pleased, Tonks joked, "Just don't expect that sexy gift-wrap on all your--"
She cut herself off with another exclamation, though this time only an incoherent squeal, as Remus swept her up in his arms and turned to carry her to the bed. Carefully he laid her down, then, stretching himself out alongside her, whispered that she was the best Christmas present he could ask her, and commenced with kissing every inch of her anyway...
Her sharply indrawn breath as his lips closed around her nipple was the only sound in the room, and consequently rang very loudly in her own ears. Tonks caught her lower lip between her teeth, as much because she felt sheepish as because what he was doing to her nipple simply called for a reaction like catching your lower lip between your teeth.
Remus' blue eyes which, prior to now had been so intent on her breast, turned up to her face. Tonks bit her lip harder as she felt pink prickle into her cheeks, until the pleasant pull of his mouth on her nipple relaxed just slightly as his lips curved in a gentle smile. The look in his eyes, which was always in his eyes, was kind; he didn't mind her little gasp.
As she looked back at him, though, she realised it was a bit more than mere kindness. Not, of course, that kindness was anything to sneer at, especially not at a time like now. His silvery fringe falling over his forehead was downright sexy, lending a certain worldliness to the way he was looking at her. Not smugness, exactly, just...
Confidence. That was it. Remus knew she liked what he was doing. He liked that he knew she liked what he was doing...Oh hell. It was too hard to think when he'd resumed doing that thing she liked...
And now with the added bonus of his other hand -- the one not cupping her breast -- which had been tangled in her hair, gliding over her cheek...her neck...her other breast...His hand continued its path still lower as he shifted his body to lie more alongside of her, skimming her side, her hipbone, lingering there a moment to fiddle with the string bikini strap of her knickers, before drifting on to stroke her inner thigh.
Though, with Remus' deft fingers and supple lips and -- oh sweet Merlin! -- his tongue working magic on such sensitive spots, she was, by the millisecond, being pulled closer and closer toward a plane where coherent thought did not exist, his steady blue eyes continued to hold hers -- except for when hers fluttered closed with her gasps -- and kept her brain somehow engaged. So far, she was enjoying her first time at lovemaking very, very much. Of course she suspected strongly there was a much more suitable verb than "enjoy" to apply to this situation. While she didn't know much in the way of experience, she did know in both head and heart that it took two to really make love. It was give and take. So far, she'd just been taking.
Which was made abundantly clear by fact that while she had only a scrap of sheer fabric on that hardly counted as knickers, he still had on his vest and trousers. And his belt, for Merlin's sake. What kind of girlfriend didn't at least help her boyfriend out of his--?
Oh. dear. God.
She might have said it aloud. She might not have. She really couldn't be bothered which, because Remus' fingers had wandered from her inner thigh, and Tonks thought she'd never wanted to -- or ever could want to -- do anything other than press her hips into his palm.
"Are you all right?" Remus whispered, having stopped kissing her breast and pushed up on his elbow at some point she could not recall. Probably around the moment he'd begun concentrating his efforts elsewhere...
"All right?" Tonks repeated, feeling a bit stupid, at least in the speech department, but not caring terribly, as she felt absolutely alert and alive elsewhere.
Remus smiled, then bent his head to kiss her lips, murmuring that he just thought he'd check and be sure.
The kiss, Tonks thought, was strangely sweet and tender in comparison to other things that were going on at the moment. Not that the other things weren't tender, as well, and not that she didn't like the contrasting tone of the kiss. Quite the opposite, in fact, as she was pretty sure that the half-moan, half-sigh she'd just made against his lips, and one of her hands reaching up to rub his stubbled cheek, was the result of the kiss. It was just...interesting, and rather surprising, how much was going on in this moment.
What talk she'd heard of sex was that it was a forward drive of lust, of passion, a whirlwind of lips and hands and other bits, all vibrant colours and wild tempos, clothes flying off and sweat-slicked bodies tumbling together in a tangle. Now she thought about it...or not thought, exactly, so much as experienced...She'd been imagining a rock concert, not a bedroom scene. Which made sense, she supposed, seeing as she'd been to a lot more rock concerts than she'd read bedroom scenes...
Of course, anything might make sense in a moment when Remus Lupin was doing things with his hands that felt like the spell equivalent of a Euphoria Elixir, and doing really fantastic things to her ear with his tongue, as well. Both of which were causing so many gasps that very little oxygen was actually making it to her brain.
Somehow in the midst of not having fully-functioning faculties, Tonks realised when Remus raised his head again and watched her intently, smiling, as he carried on with his ministrations, that the unexpected element in this was precisely what she had noticed a moment ago...or however long ago:
Even though Remus had invited her for this holiday weekend with him partly because he wanted to sleep with her, right now his singular thought seemed to be her. Not how much he wanted to be with her, but how much he wanted to make her first time a pleasurable one for her. Thus every kiss, every caress, was bestowed deliberately, with the utmost care.
And not carefully in the sense that he touched her tentatively or treated her like a delicate flower or some medieval damsel who needed a knight in shining armour to make great gallant gestures because she was a member of the weaker sex. Far from it, in fact, as his touches evoked increasingly bolder vocalisms and movements from her in response.
To be sure, his actions spoke of his full awareness in the difference in their ages and experience. However, Tonks sensed that Remus would be an attentive lover to whomever he was with. Sensitivity in bed wasn't a great leap for a man whose defining qualities were kindness and compassion that sometimes verged on the empathic, was it?
All of which, including the return of that thought about give and take, culminated in Tonks pressing her hand over Remus', ceasing the movements of his fingers.
His forehead crinkled slightly, sandy brows knitting together, and he swallowed. "Are you...?"
"All right, yes," Tonks said, breathlessly. "Better than all right. Fantastic, even."
Remus smiled, but it was laced with confusion and didn't quite fill his eyes. "Then why...?"
It seemed so strange to be talking about this, with a bloke she fancied the pants off of (despite the fact that she hadn't quite managed to get the pants, or the trousers, off him yet) and who she desperately wanted to get this right with. And it seemed even more strange that she wasn't blushing hotly, or even a little bit warmly, at least not to her knowledge.
Of course, she had told him she was a virgin. There wasn't much you couldn't say to a bloke after you'd said that. Especially when he'd been perfectly cool about it, and then done all he'd done tonight to put her at ease, and make it good.
In that light, it didn't seem strange at all. She'd trusted him, and he'd honoured that, every step of the way. Not once since that kiss in front of the fire, which had ignited the spark that sent them here, had she feared this. Remus would make it the best it could be for her. She trusted her pleasure to him, completely.
The one concern she did have was that she might be too novice at this to please him.
But she would damn sure try.
She leaned in and kissed him, twining her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. It wasn't an especially deep kiss, nor did it linger, but his breath hitched, and his body told her that he felt it as deeply as she'd wanted him to.
Drawing back just enough to meet his eye, she said, "Cos I want you to be fantastic, too."
"I am," he insisted, tracing his index finger along the curve of her cheek, then twirling a strand of her hair around it. "I am perfectly content to wait till you're ready...And if you decide you're not quite ready to go all the way--"
She cut him off with another kiss, which left him dazed-looking and tousled and gasping for air. Her, too. But her thoughts were all for him.
Reaching for his belt, she said, "I'm ready when you are..."
So Remus undressed. Rather than feeling shy at seeing him naked, Tonks understood how he had been so content to watch her, because her insides all lurched with delight, her heart skipping a beat, to see how eagerly he divested himself of belt, trousers, vest...she swallowed hard...underpants.
Not to mention she was plain pleased with what she saw. Remus' hair might be grey and his face a little careworn, but his slender, smooth body presented a more accurate picture of a wizard in his prime. His wasn't a toned, athletic build, such as Des went on about with her Quidditch blokes and Kingsley, but his trim limbs and waist bore witness to the active traveller's lifestyle he'd kept before teaching at Hogwarts, and Tonks thought it suited him -- and her. Certainly nothing about him without his clothes cried "werewolf" any more than when he had clothes on. Where was his scar?
She didn't wonder for long. As she ran her eyes over his body, taking in all the new bits of him that were hers to explore, she forgot all about scars and instead thought of how many kissable spots there were on him: the hollows of his collarbones, the patch of pale skin below his navel, ringed by a trail of fine golden hairs, the dimples just above his hipbones...
He sat at the edge of the bed, facing her, unself-consciously watching her watch him. Tonks smiled, and reached for his hand, and Remus twined his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his mouth.
"Come here," she said, tugging at his hand.
His eyes glanced sidelong at her body stretched out beside him, then moved to her eyes again. Asking permission.
Tonks rolled her eyes, but smiled, and let go of his hand to touch his knee. She just stroked his thigh with her fingertips, marvelling at the softness of the hair against her skin, surprised at how such a tiny sensation as that could make her tummy constrict.
"Come here," she said again, sliding her hand higher up his thigh.
Remus shifted to slide one leg over her, her stomach muscles coiling tighter as the bare skin of his inner thigh made contact with the bare skin of her hip. Oh, God! She sucked her breath in sharply as he straddled her, sitting up on his knees. But amid the pleasant sensations of him testing his weight against her, she glanced down and realised one thing had been forgotten.
"Wait!" She shot out one hand, pressing her palm to his chest, to hold him off her. Alarmed lines started to ghost his features, until she explained, "My knickers."
He grinned, then, glancing down at the tiny scrap of material that left nothing to the imagination, before meeting her eyes again. "You don't have to--"
"They'll get in the way if I don't." She reached down for the straps at her hips and, on very bold impulse, moved her hips beneath his.
She watched his stomach suck in, and glanced up at his face just in time to see his eyelids flutter, and felt the response of other bits.
Bloody hell. Had she really done that to him?
He opened his eyes, and looked down at her a little blearily.
"You see?" Grinning, she moved again. "They're already in the way."
Remus needed no further encouragement to help her out of her knickers. He pulled them down with a flourish, and dropped them over the bedpost, which made her laugh --
--but her laugh ended abruptly, with a hiss as, instead of straddling her again, Remus delicately wrapped his long, thin fingers around her ankles, and began kissing his way up her legs, back to her. She tried to make a sound of indignation that he was doing it again, thinking only about her when it was his turn to be thought about, but it was impossible to be indignant about something that felt so wonderful.
When his lips reached her thighs, however, and his kisses, bestowed amid his own heavy breaths, had her trembling and taut beneath his hands on her hips, her hands clutching and twisting the sheets, she wrapped her legs around him, nudging him over her.
"You're ready," she said.
He ducked his head, grinning sheepishly. "Well yes, but--"
"I said when you're ready--"
"You're ready."
His gentleness made Tonks conscious of how sharply she'd spoken to him, but apparently he wasn't bothered -- looked a little touched, in fact. And then she wasn't analysing tones of voices or facial expressions because he was sliding his hands over her waist and breasts again as he positioned himself over her and oh God, they really were going to do it...
Hands coming to rest on either side of her head, his forearms brushing her shoulders, he hovered over her, looking into her eyes for a long time. His expression was so earnest that for a moment she wondered if he was going to tell her he loved her, which was at once a thrilling and terrifying prospect, because that would be a huge step she simply wasn't ready for, not on top of the leap she was already taking, here in bed with him.
Thankfully, when Remus spoke, it was only to whisper to her to try and relax, and to assure her that he would take his time and be very gentle, and to tell her stop him if anything was uncomfortable, all of which struck her as the sort of things that might have been very condescending from some blokes, but when Remus said them, she only felt his consideration and respect...His lips brushed hers softly, sweetly, as he touched her, then--
Tonks gasped.
It hadn't hurt, precisely, when Remus had pressed into her. But it was, undeniably, different than anything she'd felt before, and comfortable definitely wasn't a word she'd attach to it in any way. He remained very still, looking at her, anxious lines criss-crossing the corners of his eyes.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Instead of answering, Tonks glanced down at their bodies.
Their joined bodies.
Despite the discomfort, a warm, pleasant flush stole through her, and her insides quivered.
That was her.
And that was Remus.
She was doing this. With him.
She was so, so glad it was him.
Sudden tears pricked her eyes, and she squeezed them shut.
"Elphine," Remus whispered. His weight on her shifting as he moved one hand to stroke her hair back from her face. "Are you all right?"
She opened her eyes, and smiled up at his face, which through her tears appeared to shine. Then she moved, wrapping her legs around the backs of his, which at once decreased the uncomfortable pressure on her as pleasure washed beautifully over his face.
"I told you," she whispered as she arched into him, "I'm bloody fantastic."
When they finally rolled away from each other, Tonks scrunched up her nose and turned her green ringlets into bubblegum pink spikes, giggling a little as she wondered whether Molly was being eaten alive with curiosity to know the story behind why Remus fancied the pink, and what she would think if she knew it was simply an impulsive thing Tonks had done after their first time.
Remus, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath, turned his head on his pillow and grinned at her. "Feel pink?" he asked, just as he had then, and every time after.
"I reckon I owe you another pressie," Tonks said by way of reply, "since I got a lot out of that, as well."
Remus raised his hand and scuffed her cheekbone with his thumb. "You don't owe me a thing, Elphine. I won't be forgetting how you looked gift-wrapped for some time. I imagine it'll Conjure a Patronus or two..." He yawned, hugely, too sluggish from sex to get his hand to his mouth in time to cover it. When it passed, he looked at her through droopy eyes. "You gave me you. What more could a man ask for?"
Tonks could think of something.
Something more she could be.
Dare she say it?
In light of what they had just done, she thought back to where it had all begun, the first time. Trust. They were here now because she'd trusted him with her body. Since then, since she'd fallen in love with him, that trust had only grown; though broken once, it had only got twice as strong with the mending.
You trust him completely, said her heart. That's what you told Molly. So tell Remus!
Scooting closer to him, nestling into the crook of his arm, she rested her head on his shoulder and spread her hand over his steadily beating heart. When he had covered her hand with his own, she asked, "What about a bride?"
For a breathless, endless moment, Remus didn't answer. Had she stunned him? Was he asleep?
He nuzzled her temple and whispered, "You'd make a beautiful bride."
Then his chest rose and fell heavily, and Remus was sound asleep.
Tonks, however, remained wide awake.
A/N: If you actually made it through this, I'm very impressed and love you forever. If you can spare another moment to let me know what you thought, I'll show my appreciation by offering reviewers your very own gift-wrapped Remus -- in your choice of wrapping material. ;)
I think there's one chapter left, and possibly an epilogue. And I *think* I can do it by the Thursday deadline. Although the operative word might be dead...
Read Chapter 6.