R/T Fic: Another Kind of Magic, Part Five
Title: Another Kind of Magic (5/7 + Prologue & Epilogue)
Authors: godricgal and mrstater
Illustrator: hrymfaxe
Format & Word Count: chaptered fic, this part weighs in at 3057 words
Rating & Warnings: R for sex
Summary: Something magical has been brewing between Remus and Tonks all summer long. But what happens when an Order assignment requires them to do things the Muggle way?
Authors' Notes: Written for the occasion of gilpin25's birthday, October 25, 2008.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
Part Five
It was, Tonks discovered, decidedly tricky to dry one's own hair without the aid of magic, and, even more specifically, without using her own brand of magic to cheat her way through the whole process. A brush in one hand and a hair dryer in the other, she'd been struggling for the last five minutes or so. In that time, she'd managed to drop the hairdryer no less than six times, and for one hairy moment, had managed to tangle the brush in her short locks.
She wasn't quite certain of the merits of this exercise as far as the Order was concerned; she couldn't imagine an espionage or battle scenario when hair dryer wielding skills might come in handy -- though she might concede that if Snape weren't on their side, it might come in handy as an implement of torture or threat. But other than that, she thought any curtailment on the use of her abilities was a bit of a waste of time. It wasn't like they'd ever not be at her disposal; they were part of her.
Prepared to give the task one last go before she gave up in favour of letting her hair dry naturally, Tonks looked up into the dressing table mirror to find the image of Remus standing behind her. He was was watching her from the adjoining bathroom, leaning casually against the door frame. He'd put on a pair of boxer shorts and a white t shirt, and his hair, too, was still wet from the shower they'd taken together. But where Tonks fancied she took on the appearance of a drowned rat when her hair was wet, Remus wore it very well, indeed. In fact, she wondered if she'd ever seen a man look sexier than Remus did in his mirror image.
"Having trouble?" he asked.
Tonks watched the reflection as he pushed away from the door frame and ambled toward her, his eyes shifting between meeting hers in the mirror and a point just a bit lower; she blushed when she realised he was looking at the reflection of her chest, of which her loosely tied dressing gown would be affording him a more than generous view, but she made no move to cover herself up.
"Erm, sort of. I'm not exactly practiced in the art of hairdressing, Muggle style." She waved the hairbrush and dryer for emphasis.
"No, I imagine you're pretty used to Tonks style in that department."
"Well, yeah," she replied. "I mean, I rarely even use a hairbrush, let alone trying to manage a dryer as well."
"Let me help?" Remus didn't wait for her answer before taking the blow dryer from her right hand and the brush from her left, which he placed on the dressing table before her as the dryer roared to life.
His fingers slipped through her hair again and again -- deft and seemingly practiced at this. They'd managed to recoup a point for correct toaster usage and another for managing a shower head and faucet, both of which, Tonks privately thought, seemed to be rewards beyond the accomplishment, but she was quite sure Remus' skill here, in drying her hair, ought to be acknowledged with at least the number of points they'd lost when he performed the contraceptive charm. Of course, she was of the opinion that Remus' skill there was remarkable enough that it ought to go unpunished entirely, but such was the nature of their assignment.
The way his hands threaded through her hair as he directed the dryer left tingles running down her spine and brought into sharp relief the memory of what they'd done not less than an hour ago.
She could scarcely believe what had happened, on more than one level. There was, of course, a certain disbelief that she'd actually, finally, had sex, and that somehow the act had caused something profound to change within her. But more than that, she'd had sex with Remus -- Remus Lupin, for whom she'd harboured so much more than a fancy these last few months since joining the Order that she'd not even allowed herself to acknowledge it for fear of certain rejection, and who she'd been so worried wouldn't find her attractive with her natural, boring brown hair.
But here he was, drying her hair with a Muggle blow dryer after they'd taken a shower together following breakfast in bed and making love...And it almost felt like it was because it was so very difficult to comprehend the enormity of it that she was taking it in stride as she was and allowing herself to lean back into Remus' body with a loud sigh, without thought to how she ought to behave or react.
"Still mulling over those crossword clues?" Remus asked, referring to the puzzle they'd begun over breakfast, and abandoned equally for its difficulty as for the more fascinating occupation of puzzling out the mysteries of one another's bodies.
She felt her skin flush beneath her dressing gown, and not due to the hot blast of air from the hairdryer. The images of her body twined with Remus' in bed, atop a Muggle newspaper, and of Remus' surprised face above hers at an unexpected crack, then their ensuing laughter at the realization that the sound had come from the pencil breaking beneath her as Remus pressed her into the mattress, gave way to the frustration that had built as they'd try to solve the clues together.
"I've never really loved crossword puzzles, you know," she said, meeting Remus' blue eyes in the mirror and blushing again as the sensual curve of his lips and a slight pinkness on his own face made her think he might have been viewing the same mental pictures as she. "But we Hufflepuffs have a vicious obsessive-compulsive streak--"
"I thought you were simply hard workers?"
"Nope, OCD, completely. I just can't give up once I've started one. Even though I know I couldn't possibly know enough to suss cryptic Muggle clues, my brain won't let it go. And anyway, we can't let it go, or we'll have to go jogging."
She pulled a face, which Remus mirrored; their remaining assignments included their choice of Muggle morning activities: jogging 'round the neighbourhood or solving The Times crossword. They'd opted for the latter, and had taken a shower together in good faith that they could complete it.
"I still think that one was hinting at something dirty."
Tonks got a blast of hot air in her face as she craned her neck to look back and up over her shoulder to see the real Remus. "English peer about to hold probe into his stock?" She snorted. "You've been hanging around Sirius too much. Only a randy male would read an innuendo into that."
Gently, Remus' fingers turned her head back around so he could dry her hair properly, but then his stubbly cheek scratched against hers as he leaned close to murmur in her ear; he hadn't got 'round to his Muggle dressing test yet, which was shaving like a Muggle. "I don't know if it's Sirius I'd blame for my randiness today."
Though Tonks felt a quiver deep within, she smirked at Remus' reflection. "Just on other days?"
Remus kept his eyes turned up to hers as he dipped his head lower and dropped a kiss on her shoulder where her dressing gown had slipped off her shoulder. Sucking in her breath through her teeth, she glanced down and saw that her gown actually hadn't slipped. Rather, it was being pulled down. By Remus' fingers.
"What about the lot who openly deplore taking of snow leopard from its lair?" she asked shakily.
Straightening up, Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose between his long, thin fingers. "I should know this. Animals are my thing."
"Magical animals are your thing."
"No, actually," Remus said, "I was fascinated by Muggle animal books as a child, despite their not having moving pictures in. And during our travels for cures, my parents always made sure to include stops in at local zoos."
He'd become so engrossed in thought that he'd stopped drying her hair, the Muggle implement hung from one hand at his side as he as what could only be described as a slightly reminiscent smile overtook his face. The slight scattyness combined with a professorly tone, and Tonks struggled to stifle a giggle as she easily imagined him perched on the edge of a great desk, rattling out a lecture on Magical Creatures to a classroom of rapt third-years.
"I really ought to know this one," he insisted.
"Maybe it'll come to you in a bit," said Tonks, taking the hairdryer from his slackened hand and shutting it off. She laid it on the dressing table where she'd found it, then picked up a strange-looking electrical device with three round heads. "After you've shaved like a Muggle."
Remus snapped out of his professorial reverie and blinked at the Muggle shaver. His Adam's apple bobbed.
"Are you certain that's what Muggle men use to shave?"
"Yup. I used to love to watch Grandpa shave. Once or twice he let me shave him."
"Brave of him," Remus muttered.
Tonks arched her eyebrow as she thrust the shaver at him. "I hope that wasn't a dig at my clumsiness?"
Remus flushed, and his eyes became round and imploring. "I only meant the device!"
Tonks was sceptical, but not offended. She didn't trust herself to shave, either; luckily -- for her legs and any men who felt them, she was a Metamorphmagus who didn't have to.
"Oh. Go on, then," she urged, pressing the shaver into Remus' hand. "We got two points for Hairdryer Mastery, thanks to you. Shaving will be a piece of Cauldron Cake." She added, "Where's your Gryffindor courage?"
"Not rooted in trust of a Muggle object that has not one, not two, but three spinning blades that look like they'd be of better use mincing potion ingredients than anywhere near my face," Remus replied. "In any case, I'm not quite finished here yet."
Looking at her hair in the mirror, Tonks was fairly sure it was about as dry as it was going to get, but it wasn't until a few minutes later, when even Remus hadn't been able to deny that not a drop of shower water remained in her hair, that he turned off the dryer and placed it on the dressing table. He did not, however, stop running his fingers through her hair, and went further to trail them softly across her shoulder and then knelt behind her to press little kisses to the skin he'd exposed earlier when he'd tugged at her gown.
Tonks had always known, of course, that to have a man touch her would feel nice, but she'd never have been able to guess at the full extent of the sensations it would cause: the tingling that radiated from an epicentre of lips or fingers, the yearning for more than each touch evoked with a slow buildup of tension inside her. Nor would she ever have been able to anticipate the strong sense of intimacy, of togetherness, particularly knowing that Remus had never touched another in this way, and what they did as lovers was, in every sense of meaning, theirs and only theirs.
She reached back and threaded a hand around Remus' neck, pulling him forward over her shoulder to kiss him. Images of what they'd shared earlier kept flashing through her mind -- that moment at the end when she'd clutched him to her, his arms beneath her binding her against him so tightly. Kissing him now, she wanted to experience that again.
"Remus," she said against his lips, "the sooner you shave, the sooner we can get back into bed and finish that crossword."
He kissed her once more. "That is perhaps the only compelling reason to do this. Though you're sure we can't skip straight to getting into bed?"
"Uh-huh." This time it was Tonks who initiated the kiss, but as she pulled back, she pushed Remus away, stood, and dragged him by his shirt into the bathroom.
"Sit," she said, flipping the toilet seat down. Meekly, Remus did so, amusement and reluctance mixed on his face.
"You're not going to do this for me, are you?" he asked, watching her take the can of shaving foam from the ledge and lather it up on her palms.
"I knew you were disparaging me earlier -- just because I trip over my own feet on occasion, doesn't mean I don't have an eye for detail and a steady hand." She began to dab thick, white foam onto Remus' cheeks.
"I mean nothing of the sort," he replied. "Only that I'd rather be at the handle end of the broomstick, so to speak, when allowing swirling blades next to my face for the first time."
"Thousands of Muggles do survive it every day, you know," Tonks said, more than a little amused at Remus' petulance over the matter.
"You haven't answered my question," he said, ignoring her teasing.
She finished pasting the foam over his face and neck, then held the device out to Remus. "Nope. Just thought I'd help with the part where I to paw you." He almost smiled, but then his eyes flickered down and he reached out to take the shaver from her. He really did look nervous. "Erm, would you mind waiting in the bedroom while I do this?"
"I won't laugh," Tonks said, a little wounded.
"I know." He squeezed her hand. "But when you're around it's very hard to look at anything else and I really ought to have my full attention the task. I promise I'll scream loudly if I'm losing too much blood, and you can swoop in and earn us a few more points for Muggle first aid."
"Okay. I'll go warm up the bed."
It was about ten minutes before Remus emerged from the bathroom, his neck a little red in places and looking a little pale, but his face nonetheless clean shaven and damp.
"Was it much of an ordeal?" Tonks said from her warmed spot beneath otherwise recently made bed.
"Very traumatic, but as you can see, I survived -- and without too much blood loss."
"Come here." Tonks pushed back the covers on the vacant side of the bed and patted the mattress. "You may have passed the Muggle test, but now you've got to pass the kissability test."
She was a little surprised at her own forwardness, but as Remus came eagerly to the bed, she was pleased with the results. He lay on his side, his hand resting in the curve of her waist and their feet tangled together as she trailed her fingertips along his smooth cheek. As they'd made love in the early morning light she'd loved the masculine prickle of his stubble as he kissed her lips, neck, breasts, but now she thought she'd never touched anything softer than his skin; the mingling tang of shaving cream and sweet aftershave infused themselves in the sheets and in her as she pressed her lips to his cheeks, chin, and throat.
His Adam's apple moved beneath her lips as he said in husky tones, "What do you think? Do I pass kissability?"
"Not sure yet. Need a bit more experimentation." She darted out her tongue to taste the hollow of his throat.
Remus made a low sound in his throat, but abruptly sat up. "Appealing as that is, I'm afraid it would lead to us occupying ourselves with other things than crossword puzzles. If we don't finish it, we'll be outside jogging, and if we don't do it soon, it'll be hot as blazes out there. Humid from last night's rain, too."
He was right, of course, but that didn't stop Tonks from heaving an overdramatic sigh as she pushed herself up beside him and retrieved The Times and their pencil from the nightstand. At least Remus kept his arm around her and leant his head against hers, and as they mulled over the cryptic clues, he turned his head to kiss her temple from time to time, or simply to breathe in the scent of her shampoo.
It was beyond distracting. In fact, it almost became irritating, as her Hufflepuff brain became engaged in puzzling out the crossword and went to war with her hormones.
Just as Tonks was about to say either 'Bugger it, Remus, stop being so bloody affectionate so I can concentrate,' or 'bugger it, Remus, let's have sex again and then go jogging,' she had an epiphany.
"Oh, I'm such an idiot! Why didn't I see it before?" She snatched the broken stub of pencil from Remus and began to fill in the boxes.
D-E-N-
"Denounced?" Remus read, looking at her in scepticism. "What's denounced got to do with snow leop--Oooh! Yes, of course! A leopard's lair is called a den. And those who openly deplore something denounce it. Another area of my expertise."
"Crap pun, though," said Tonks. "All right, just the one left. With bad puns in mind, I'm sure we can suss it in no time!"
But 'no time' was far from the truth. A quarter of an hour passed. Half an hour. Three quarters of an hour. Remus wasn't kissing her, and Tonks was getting a headache. At last, though she was loath to bring this wonderful time alone together to an end, she said, "Remus. I think we're going to have to give up on this for now."
"But I want to know the answer."
"So do I," she said, "believe me. But I've got a shift tonight. We can take it to Sirius, as he's brilliant at the cryptic crosswords, and besides..." She took the newspaper from him and nibbled his earlobe, smiling at the shiver she felt course down his spine as she pressed against him. "...if we go jogging, we'll need another shower, and you know what we can do in the shower?"
Remus lost no time in getting out of bed and opening the bureau to find jogging clothes.
Read Part Six
A/N: If you're kind enough to review, Remus will pop around to help you with the Saturday crossword.
Authors: godricgal and mrstater
Illustrator: hrymfaxe
Format & Word Count: chaptered fic, this part weighs in at 3057 words
Rating & Warnings: R for sex
Summary: Something magical has been brewing between Remus and Tonks all summer long. But what happens when an Order assignment requires them to do things the Muggle way?
Authors' Notes: Written for the occasion of gilpin25's birthday, October 25, 2008.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
Part Five
It was, Tonks discovered, decidedly tricky to dry one's own hair without the aid of magic, and, even more specifically, without using her own brand of magic to cheat her way through the whole process. A brush in one hand and a hair dryer in the other, she'd been struggling for the last five minutes or so. In that time, she'd managed to drop the hairdryer no less than six times, and for one hairy moment, had managed to tangle the brush in her short locks.
She wasn't quite certain of the merits of this exercise as far as the Order was concerned; she couldn't imagine an espionage or battle scenario when hair dryer wielding skills might come in handy -- though she might concede that if Snape weren't on their side, it might come in handy as an implement of torture or threat. But other than that, she thought any curtailment on the use of her abilities was a bit of a waste of time. It wasn't like they'd ever not be at her disposal; they were part of her.
Prepared to give the task one last go before she gave up in favour of letting her hair dry naturally, Tonks looked up into the dressing table mirror to find the image of Remus standing behind her. He was was watching her from the adjoining bathroom, leaning casually against the door frame. He'd put on a pair of boxer shorts and a white t shirt, and his hair, too, was still wet from the shower they'd taken together. But where Tonks fancied she took on the appearance of a drowned rat when her hair was wet, Remus wore it very well, indeed. In fact, she wondered if she'd ever seen a man look sexier than Remus did in his mirror image.
"Having trouble?" he asked.
Tonks watched the reflection as he pushed away from the door frame and ambled toward her, his eyes shifting between meeting hers in the mirror and a point just a bit lower; she blushed when she realised he was looking at the reflection of her chest, of which her loosely tied dressing gown would be affording him a more than generous view, but she made no move to cover herself up.
"Erm, sort of. I'm not exactly practiced in the art of hairdressing, Muggle style." She waved the hairbrush and dryer for emphasis.
"No, I imagine you're pretty used to Tonks style in that department."
"Well, yeah," she replied. "I mean, I rarely even use a hairbrush, let alone trying to manage a dryer as well."
"Let me help?" Remus didn't wait for her answer before taking the blow dryer from her right hand and the brush from her left, which he placed on the dressing table before her as the dryer roared to life.
His fingers slipped through her hair again and again -- deft and seemingly practiced at this. They'd managed to recoup a point for correct toaster usage and another for managing a shower head and faucet, both of which, Tonks privately thought, seemed to be rewards beyond the accomplishment, but she was quite sure Remus' skill here, in drying her hair, ought to be acknowledged with at least the number of points they'd lost when he performed the contraceptive charm. Of course, she was of the opinion that Remus' skill there was remarkable enough that it ought to go unpunished entirely, but such was the nature of their assignment.
The way his hands threaded through her hair as he directed the dryer left tingles running down her spine and brought into sharp relief the memory of what they'd done not less than an hour ago.
She could scarcely believe what had happened, on more than one level. There was, of course, a certain disbelief that she'd actually, finally, had sex, and that somehow the act had caused something profound to change within her. But more than that, she'd had sex with Remus -- Remus Lupin, for whom she'd harboured so much more than a fancy these last few months since joining the Order that she'd not even allowed herself to acknowledge it for fear of certain rejection, and who she'd been so worried wouldn't find her attractive with her natural, boring brown hair.
But here he was, drying her hair with a Muggle blow dryer after they'd taken a shower together following breakfast in bed and making love...And it almost felt like it was because it was so very difficult to comprehend the enormity of it that she was taking it in stride as she was and allowing herself to lean back into Remus' body with a loud sigh, without thought to how she ought to behave or react.
"Still mulling over those crossword clues?" Remus asked, referring to the puzzle they'd begun over breakfast, and abandoned equally for its difficulty as for the more fascinating occupation of puzzling out the mysteries of one another's bodies.
She felt her skin flush beneath her dressing gown, and not due to the hot blast of air from the hairdryer. The images of her body twined with Remus' in bed, atop a Muggle newspaper, and of Remus' surprised face above hers at an unexpected crack, then their ensuing laughter at the realization that the sound had come from the pencil breaking beneath her as Remus pressed her into the mattress, gave way to the frustration that had built as they'd try to solve the clues together.
"I've never really loved crossword puzzles, you know," she said, meeting Remus' blue eyes in the mirror and blushing again as the sensual curve of his lips and a slight pinkness on his own face made her think he might have been viewing the same mental pictures as she. "But we Hufflepuffs have a vicious obsessive-compulsive streak--"
"I thought you were simply hard workers?"
"Nope, OCD, completely. I just can't give up once I've started one. Even though I know I couldn't possibly know enough to suss cryptic Muggle clues, my brain won't let it go. And anyway, we can't let it go, or we'll have to go jogging."
She pulled a face, which Remus mirrored; their remaining assignments included their choice of Muggle morning activities: jogging 'round the neighbourhood or solving The Times crossword. They'd opted for the latter, and had taken a shower together in good faith that they could complete it.
"I still think that one was hinting at something dirty."
Tonks got a blast of hot air in her face as she craned her neck to look back and up over her shoulder to see the real Remus. "English peer about to hold probe into his stock?" She snorted. "You've been hanging around Sirius too much. Only a randy male would read an innuendo into that."
Gently, Remus' fingers turned her head back around so he could dry her hair properly, but then his stubbly cheek scratched against hers as he leaned close to murmur in her ear; he hadn't got 'round to his Muggle dressing test yet, which was shaving like a Muggle. "I don't know if it's Sirius I'd blame for my randiness today."
Though Tonks felt a quiver deep within, she smirked at Remus' reflection. "Just on other days?"
Remus kept his eyes turned up to hers as he dipped his head lower and dropped a kiss on her shoulder where her dressing gown had slipped off her shoulder. Sucking in her breath through her teeth, she glanced down and saw that her gown actually hadn't slipped. Rather, it was being pulled down. By Remus' fingers.
"What about the lot who openly deplore taking of snow leopard from its lair?" she asked shakily.
Straightening up, Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose between his long, thin fingers. "I should know this. Animals are my thing."
"Magical animals are your thing."
"No, actually," Remus said, "I was fascinated by Muggle animal books as a child, despite their not having moving pictures in. And during our travels for cures, my parents always made sure to include stops in at local zoos."
He'd become so engrossed in thought that he'd stopped drying her hair, the Muggle implement hung from one hand at his side as he as what could only be described as a slightly reminiscent smile overtook his face. The slight scattyness combined with a professorly tone, and Tonks struggled to stifle a giggle as she easily imagined him perched on the edge of a great desk, rattling out a lecture on Magical Creatures to a classroom of rapt third-years.
"I really ought to know this one," he insisted.
"Maybe it'll come to you in a bit," said Tonks, taking the hairdryer from his slackened hand and shutting it off. She laid it on the dressing table where she'd found it, then picked up a strange-looking electrical device with three round heads. "After you've shaved like a Muggle."
Remus snapped out of his professorial reverie and blinked at the Muggle shaver. His Adam's apple bobbed.
"Are you certain that's what Muggle men use to shave?"
"Yup. I used to love to watch Grandpa shave. Once or twice he let me shave him."
"Brave of him," Remus muttered.
Tonks arched her eyebrow as she thrust the shaver at him. "I hope that wasn't a dig at my clumsiness?"
Remus flushed, and his eyes became round and imploring. "I only meant the device!"
Tonks was sceptical, but not offended. She didn't trust herself to shave, either; luckily -- for her legs and any men who felt them, she was a Metamorphmagus who didn't have to.
"Oh. Go on, then," she urged, pressing the shaver into Remus' hand. "We got two points for Hairdryer Mastery, thanks to you. Shaving will be a piece of Cauldron Cake." She added, "Where's your Gryffindor courage?"
"Not rooted in trust of a Muggle object that has not one, not two, but three spinning blades that look like they'd be of better use mincing potion ingredients than anywhere near my face," Remus replied. "In any case, I'm not quite finished here yet."
Looking at her hair in the mirror, Tonks was fairly sure it was about as dry as it was going to get, but it wasn't until a few minutes later, when even Remus hadn't been able to deny that not a drop of shower water remained in her hair, that he turned off the dryer and placed it on the dressing table. He did not, however, stop running his fingers through her hair, and went further to trail them softly across her shoulder and then knelt behind her to press little kisses to the skin he'd exposed earlier when he'd tugged at her gown.
Tonks had always known, of course, that to have a man touch her would feel nice, but she'd never have been able to guess at the full extent of the sensations it would cause: the tingling that radiated from an epicentre of lips or fingers, the yearning for more than each touch evoked with a slow buildup of tension inside her. Nor would she ever have been able to anticipate the strong sense of intimacy, of togetherness, particularly knowing that Remus had never touched another in this way, and what they did as lovers was, in every sense of meaning, theirs and only theirs.
She reached back and threaded a hand around Remus' neck, pulling him forward over her shoulder to kiss him. Images of what they'd shared earlier kept flashing through her mind -- that moment at the end when she'd clutched him to her, his arms beneath her binding her against him so tightly. Kissing him now, she wanted to experience that again.
"Remus," she said against his lips, "the sooner you shave, the sooner we can get back into bed and finish that crossword."
He kissed her once more. "That is perhaps the only compelling reason to do this. Though you're sure we can't skip straight to getting into bed?"
"Uh-huh." This time it was Tonks who initiated the kiss, but as she pulled back, she pushed Remus away, stood, and dragged him by his shirt into the bathroom.
"Sit," she said, flipping the toilet seat down. Meekly, Remus did so, amusement and reluctance mixed on his face.
"You're not going to do this for me, are you?" he asked, watching her take the can of shaving foam from the ledge and lather it up on her palms.
"I knew you were disparaging me earlier -- just because I trip over my own feet on occasion, doesn't mean I don't have an eye for detail and a steady hand." She began to dab thick, white foam onto Remus' cheeks.
"I mean nothing of the sort," he replied. "Only that I'd rather be at the handle end of the broomstick, so to speak, when allowing swirling blades next to my face for the first time."
"Thousands of Muggles do survive it every day, you know," Tonks said, more than a little amused at Remus' petulance over the matter.
"You haven't answered my question," he said, ignoring her teasing.
She finished pasting the foam over his face and neck, then held the device out to Remus. "Nope. Just thought I'd help with the part where I to paw you." He almost smiled, but then his eyes flickered down and he reached out to take the shaver from her. He really did look nervous. "Erm, would you mind waiting in the bedroom while I do this?"
"I won't laugh," Tonks said, a little wounded.
"I know." He squeezed her hand. "But when you're around it's very hard to look at anything else and I really ought to have my full attention the task. I promise I'll scream loudly if I'm losing too much blood, and you can swoop in and earn us a few more points for Muggle first aid."
"Okay. I'll go warm up the bed."
It was about ten minutes before Remus emerged from the bathroom, his neck a little red in places and looking a little pale, but his face nonetheless clean shaven and damp.
"Was it much of an ordeal?" Tonks said from her warmed spot beneath otherwise recently made bed.
"Very traumatic, but as you can see, I survived -- and without too much blood loss."
"Come here." Tonks pushed back the covers on the vacant side of the bed and patted the mattress. "You may have passed the Muggle test, but now you've got to pass the kissability test."
She was a little surprised at her own forwardness, but as Remus came eagerly to the bed, she was pleased with the results. He lay on his side, his hand resting in the curve of her waist and their feet tangled together as she trailed her fingertips along his smooth cheek. As they'd made love in the early morning light she'd loved the masculine prickle of his stubble as he kissed her lips, neck, breasts, but now she thought she'd never touched anything softer than his skin; the mingling tang of shaving cream and sweet aftershave infused themselves in the sheets and in her as she pressed her lips to his cheeks, chin, and throat.
His Adam's apple moved beneath her lips as he said in husky tones, "What do you think? Do I pass kissability?"
"Not sure yet. Need a bit more experimentation." She darted out her tongue to taste the hollow of his throat.
Remus made a low sound in his throat, but abruptly sat up. "Appealing as that is, I'm afraid it would lead to us occupying ourselves with other things than crossword puzzles. If we don't finish it, we'll be outside jogging, and if we don't do it soon, it'll be hot as blazes out there. Humid from last night's rain, too."
He was right, of course, but that didn't stop Tonks from heaving an overdramatic sigh as she pushed herself up beside him and retrieved The Times and their pencil from the nightstand. At least Remus kept his arm around her and leant his head against hers, and as they mulled over the cryptic clues, he turned his head to kiss her temple from time to time, or simply to breathe in the scent of her shampoo.
It was beyond distracting. In fact, it almost became irritating, as her Hufflepuff brain became engaged in puzzling out the crossword and went to war with her hormones.
Just as Tonks was about to say either 'Bugger it, Remus, stop being so bloody affectionate so I can concentrate,' or 'bugger it, Remus, let's have sex again and then go jogging,' she had an epiphany.
"Oh, I'm such an idiot! Why didn't I see it before?" She snatched the broken stub of pencil from Remus and began to fill in the boxes.
D-E-N-
"Denounced?" Remus read, looking at her in scepticism. "What's denounced got to do with snow leop--Oooh! Yes, of course! A leopard's lair is called a den. And those who openly deplore something denounce it. Another area of my expertise."
"Crap pun, though," said Tonks. "All right, just the one left. With bad puns in mind, I'm sure we can suss it in no time!"
But 'no time' was far from the truth. A quarter of an hour passed. Half an hour. Three quarters of an hour. Remus wasn't kissing her, and Tonks was getting a headache. At last, though she was loath to bring this wonderful time alone together to an end, she said, "Remus. I think we're going to have to give up on this for now."
"But I want to know the answer."
"So do I," she said, "believe me. But I've got a shift tonight. We can take it to Sirius, as he's brilliant at the cryptic crosswords, and besides..." She took the newspaper from him and nibbled his earlobe, smiling at the shiver she felt course down his spine as she pressed against him. "...if we go jogging, we'll need another shower, and you know what we can do in the shower?"
Remus lost no time in getting out of bed and opening the bureau to find jogging clothes.
Read Part Six
A/N: If you're kind enough to review, Remus will pop around to help you with the Saturday crossword.