R/T Fic: Another Kind of Magic, Part Six
Title: Another Kind of Magic (6/7 + Prologue and Epilogue)
Authors: godricgal and mrstater
Illustrator: hrymfaxe
Format and word count: chaptered fic, this part weighs in at 3520 words
Rating and 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 |
Part Six
There was a tentative knock on the bathroom door. "Remus?" came Tonks' even more tentative voice from the other side. "Are you ready to go?"
"I'm not going. I'm never coming out of this bathroom. Not in these clothes."
Was that a giggle he heard? If Tonks had laughed, her mood abruptly changed, because that was definitely a heavy sigh of frustration, followed by a gentle thump against the door. He pictured her leaning wearily against it. "Have you thought of an answer to that crossword clue?"
"No." He sounded petulant, even to his own ears.
"Then you've got to come out. We have to go jogging, and Muggles do it in these clothes."
Bugger. Remus looked miserably at his reflection in the full-length mirror hung crookedly on the back of the bathroom door. He looked so bloody stupid. Loose-fitting nylon trousers that were shiny, a hooded jumper two of him could have got inside and emblazoned with a word he was confident had to be gibberish (what the blazes did Adidas mean?) and the most garish shoes -- trainers, Tonks called them -- black and grey and neon yellow, and at least three sizes too big for him. The Muggle clothes looked as ridiculous on him as Augusta Longbottom's dress, vulture hat, fox-fur scarf, and red handbag had looked on Severus. In fact, Remus was sure he could pass for somebody's boggart right now. Probably Tonks'. There was a reason, despite a total lack of athleticism, that he'd never gone out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team: he'd known he'd look like a berk in the uniform. If Padfoot could see him now, he'd laugh his arse off.
"Remus, just come on. I feel pretty silly in my little outfit, too, not to mention the fact that the trousers are so tight I've got the mother of all wedgies. The sooner we can get this jogging over with, the sooner we can get out of these bloody clothes."
A few keywords in Tonks' speech caught Remus' attention: little outfit, tight trousers, and we can get out of these clothes. Curiosity piqued, he took a deep breath, opened the door, and peered around it, still keeping himself out of plain view.
At the sight of Tonks dressed to go jogging, Muggle-style, he found himself struggling to resist the impulse to give a more genuine wolf whistle than most men were capable of. He'd been prepared for the trousers that stopped just below her knees, revealing those shapely calves that had been wrapped around his waist as he made love to her and left nothing to his imagination of her shapely bum (and a highly VPL).
But she hadn't mentioned the fact that what was on top was little more than a bra.
Remus swallowed hard. How in the name of Merlin's sweaty socks (and he hoped the assignment sheet wouldn't read his thoughts and deduct points for Use of Magical Epithet) was he going to be able to concentrate on jogging when Tonks would be right beside him wearing that?
A titter, followed by a muffled snort, diverted his gaze from Tonks' chest to the hand clapped over her mouth and the laughing eyes above it. Remus raised an eyebrow at her.
"I thought you felt so silly in your little outfit that you weren't going to make fun of mine?"
"I'm sorry, Remus," Tonks spluttered around peals of laughter as she removed her hand from her mouth. "But I don't feel quite that silly!"
Glowering playfully, Remus swatted her lightly on her nylon-clad behind. "Outside with you now. You'll pay for laughing at me -- Nymphadora."
Once they'd set off, Remus took every opportunity to snatch a sideways glance at Tonks; the sight of her lean body clad in those skimpy running clothes was almost enough to distract him from his own ridiculous attire. As they set their pace, he tried to concentrate on the image of her breasts -- which had, so recently, been pressed against his chest, cupped in his palms -- bobbing up and down beneath the scratch of material she wore, and console himself with the hope that since they were in a neighbourhood that was exclusively Muggle, he was unlikely to meet with anyone with whom he -- or they -- were acquainted.
It was only after about five minutes on the go (though it felt like twice that long, three times, even), their feet pounding rhythmically against the tarmac, that another very real and rather problematic situation began to present itself. While Tonks quite happily jogging along, looking breezy and bright and as though she was actually rather enjoying herself, Remus was starting to feel weary: breathlessness was catching up with him, and he felt the acidic ache in his muscles he'd always associate with running for his life. The fact was, his very new, considerably younger girlfriend seemed to be in the peak of fitness -- no doubt a result of a strict regimen of training she was still required to fulfil as part of her work schedule -- while he, it could not be denied, was a middle aged werewolf with a reduced lung capacity and limbs no longer fit for strenuous exercise.
He attempted to measure his breaths, to draw them deep and even, but that only seemed to make matters worse. Breathlessness hadn't seemed to matter when it was shared, and you were collapsed on top of your new lover's body, but suddenly Remus felt it was something of which to be more embarrassed than his clothing.
"Remus," Tonks' said beside him, sounding quite unaffected by the exertion, "are you okay?"
"Fine," he puffed automatically. "It's just..." He took a deep breath. "Been-a-while."
She seemed to accept that, and they soldiered on until Remus took a particularly deep breath and a paroxysm of coughs overtook him. Looking sideways at him in obvious concern, Tonks ran straight into a lamppost.
To give her her due credit, she'd managed not to knock herself to the ground, but clutched her forehead with both palms and blinked heavily. The pains in his legs forgotten, but breathing heavily, Remus caught up to her and, with great concern, peeled her hands away from her head. A hefty bruise was already beginning to form in the middle of her head -- a goose egg in the making, if ever there was one.
"Ow," she whimpered, biting her lip. "Reckon I deserved that for laughing at your outfit?"
"Not at all. And I promise I didn't jinx you out of revenge." Remus ran his thumb lightly over the bump and then kissed it, allowing his lips to linger on her skin as he caught his breath. "Better?" he whispered.
"Yeah," she replied as her hands reached up to grasp at the baggy fabric of his jumper. Remus enfolded her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers. It was a soft kiss and it seemed to calm them both, but then it deepened slightly and Remus forgot that he was standing in the middle of a Muggle street; he forgot that he was wearing ridiculous clothes that looked even more ridiculous on his unathletic body.
It was a car honking its horn and a voice bellowing 'Get a room!' as the vehicle revved and roared past that brought them back to the surface of reality. Tonks giggled and took several steps back, stumbling as she stepped onto the downward curve of a driveway, and landing flat on her backside.
"Dora! Are you okay?" he cried.
To his relief, she laughed. "It's okay, I'm just falling in love."
Despite the fact that his heart had been thumping wildly during their run and had not yet slowed to its normal tempo, Remus was sure that the flip-flop it gave now was purely the result of Tonks returning the sentiment he'd uttered earlier, as they'd lain naked and tangled together in bed; he'd been breathless with a pounding heart then, too.
"Do you reckon we've jogged enough to complete that portion of our Muggle training?" Remus asked.
Tonks blinked as though adjusting to the sudden about turn in train of thought, then glanced backward over her shoulder in the direction they'd come. They were at least three blocks from the house. "I reckon so. But I'm okay if you want to keep on."
Now Remus blinked. Was she joking? He hadn't been fit to continue before she had her run-in with the lamp-post, and she knew it, as distraction at his trouble was the reason she was on the pavement now. Shaking his head, he held out his hands to her. "We should get you home and tend your forehead."
Tonks sucked in her breath through her teeth as Remus' fingers closed around her palms and started to tug her to her feet. Once she was upright, Remus released them, and uncurled her fingers, turning her palms outward. He hissed in sympathy at the sight of torn skin surrounding deep red gashes; her hands were dusted with a fine, shimmering layer of gravel and dust.
"Dora! Why didn't you tell me you'd scraped your hands?"
"The bump on my head hurt so badly I didn't notice. Anyway, it's just grazed hands. Not a big deal." Her voice was pained, quavering slightly as if she were trying very hard not to let on how much the scrapes stung; but her lips twitched upward in a slight smile. "You called me Dora."
"Did I?" The affectionate nickname had slipped from Remus' lips without his having thought about it. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Tonks said. "I like it."
Remus brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them, very lightly, above her wounds. "Well, then, Dora -- shall we patch you up, and then act on that Muggle driver's very fine idea of getting a room?"
She grinned brightly. "Considering we're going to have to grovel before Sirius to remove the contraceptive charm from our score sheet, I think we'd definitely better make the most of it."
As she turned to head back the way they'd come, a bright patch of pink in the midst of her tight black jogging trousers evoked a laugh from Remus' tortured lungs.
"Um, Dora?"
She stopped in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder at him with a questioningly raised eyebrow.
"It seems we're going to have to learn to sew like Muggles, as well."
Tonks craned her neck to follow his eyes to her bum, where the ripped seam of her trousers revealed her underwear. "Oh, bloody buggering--" Her hand shot back to cover the hole. "Stop laughing, Remus!"
"There's your payback. But I'll happily keep you covered up on the walk home," he offered.
"How chivalrous," Tonks dead-panned, not releasing the seat of her trousers. "I'll thank you to just walk behind me and keep that mouth shut."
With Remus slightly behind her, ostensibly protecting her modesty, but hand in hand, they half jogged, half briskly walked the distance back to the Muggle house. Though her forehead still ached in palpable pulses, and Remus was clearly a little worse for wear for being somewhat out of shape, Tonks felt their unspoken decision to return with as much haste as possible lay in an eagerness for the shower they'd promised to each other earlier, as well as a slight guilt for cutting their run short. But it was mostly the thought of the shower and what they might do in it that powered Tonks home.
When they reached the house, Tonks held out her hand for the key, which Remus had stored safely in his zipped trouser pocket. While she stood on the step, fiddling with the lock, Remus moved to stand very close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and resting his chin on her shoulder. His arms still around her, they shuffled into the hallway and as the front door closed behind them, Tonks turned to face him.
"How's your head, soldier?"
"Hurts a bit," Tonks replied truthfully, letting her fingers drift up to his neck and play in the soft hair they found there.
Though concern was etched on his kindly features, Tonks noted a definite Marauderish twinkle in Remus' eyes when he said, "Reckon some hot water would do it a power of good. Those hands of yours, too. We need to get that grit out."
"Mm." She rolled forward onto her tiptoes as she stretched up to kiss him. She whispered against his lips, "Will you help me?"
In the bathroom, Tonks left Remus to adjust the faucet until the water was up to temperature, while she examined the lump on her head and wished she were allowed to morph away the sickly blue tinge around its edges. She quickly slipped out of the running trousers and was about to remove the top, when Remus appeared behind her in the mirror. He took her hands gently and moved them away to hang limply by her sides; his eyes flickered to hers in the mirror. She watched, fascinated, with quickening breath, as he removed her top, pulling it over her head and arms.
"You're so beautiful, Dora," he whispered in her ear.
His palms grazed her bare breasts as she leant back against him, wondering, once again, at the easy intimacy they'd cultivated in so short a time. She'd always thought she'd feel self-conscious in nakedness in front of a man, but the way Remus touched her, the way he looked at her, meant she couldn't help but believe the words he spoke, felt comfortable in her own skin -- more so than she'd ever felt without him.
When watching him create the sensations he caused in her became almost too intense for her to stand, she turned her head upwards to kiss him, and he met her half way. During the minutes that ensued, they parted only so she could remove his top -- dissolving once more into giggles at how ridiculous on him it had been -- and then clambered awkwardly into the shower together.
Water fell as hot rain over them; she tasted it on his lips, felt it dripping over her closed eyelids as they kissed. His body was warm and slick beneath her fingers and palms, and the sounds he made -- they made -- reverberated in their private watery space.
Conventional magic might be off limits in this place, but they created it in other ways, and she thought that between them, they might be just as adept at this new brand of magic as they were at the art they'd practiced all their lives.
Remus' voice, low and guttural, reverberated in the tiled shower nook. "Think we can manage to make this work in here?"
Tonks had been kissing along his collarbone, lingering in the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his shower-slicked skin, but now she raised her head to look at him. "Are you implying something about my balance, Lupin?"
She couldn't maintain her expression of mock displeasure when Remus' blue eyes twinkled at her from between strands of wet fringe. His hands slid down beneath her bottom, squeezing and pulling her up against him as he pressed her back against the cold wall of the shower.
"After the recent display of my appalling lack of athleticism, I'm more worried about whether I'm up to the necessary gymnastics."
Resting her hands on his shoulders, Tonks balanced on one leg and hooked the other around his hips. With a groan of pleasure at her movement (and maybe the slightest bit of effort, Tonks thought with a giggle), Remus hoisted her into his arms and she was holding her breath as he just started to enter her.
"Quite impress--ow!" The back of Tonks' head had connected with the shower head. And then her feet thunked against the floor of the shower, nearly slipping out from under her when Remus dropped her in surprise.
Remus kept her upright as he apologized profusely. "Maybe we ought to relocate to the bed...If you even still want to do this now that I've nearly rendered you unconscious."
Tonks thought he might have been flushing, though it was hard to tell, as both their skin was undoubtedly pinkened by the hot water. He reached for the tap, but she placed his hand over his, stopping his movement to shut it off.
"Just avoid the shower head," she told him, "and I'll pretend that never happened and be duly impressed by your show of manly strength."
This time, Remus managed to lift her without incident. He slipped easily into her, and with her legs wrapped securely around his waist, Tonks felt quite comfortably filled by him as the soothing water drummed down on them. For a moment they stared at each other, revelling once again in the very idea of their bodies joined together in so very intimate away.
But of course, there was more to the act of love than this, and Tonks found that as satisfying as it was to be still with Remus inside her, she quivered with need of him.
And she wasn't exactly sure how it was going to work.
Brushing his wet hair out of his face, Tonks tentatively pushed her heels into the small of his back, coaxing an indrawn breath from him. That wasn't quite going to do it.
"What now," she asked?
Remus her cheek and murmured, "Hang on."
Tonks clung to his back, one hand fisting in his tangled wet hair, one of his arms released her and their bodies shifted at an angle as he supported himself with one hand on the shower wall above her head.
He pushed deeper into her, and Tonks' eyes closed as she hummed low in her throat at the sensation.
"Feel good?" Remus asked, rocking his hips against her again.
Tonks could only wag her head lazily against his shoulder as pleasure rippled through her.
"Good," said Remus, in such a way that Tonks wasn't sure whether he was pleased for her, or in agreement with her. "Although now that I'm more confident in my balance, I'm less sure of my endurance..."
"Shower sex isn't an endurance sport."
Remus' chuckle rumbled delightfully through Tonks as their bodies touched. "Well, in that case..."
It wasn't sure and practiced by any stretch of the imagination, but they clung to each other desperately, for more than simply balance or support, and sensation set to overwhelm her, nonetheless. Tonks found herself very aware, once again, of sharing with Remus a very intimate path of discovery and that she felt so comfortable in doing so seemed to reinforce the deep-seated sense of rightness she felt with him.
They didn't last long, the shower of water around them muffled the sounds as they made desperate movements together. Remus relaxed his hold on her and Tonks slid down to support her own weight once more. They held each other loosely; Tonks rested her head against Remus' chest and he buried his face in her neck, the sound of his breath rushing in her ear.
Eventually, Remus looked up, brushed her wet hair back from her face with both hands, and said, "I think we're getting to be pretty good at that."
"Think so"
They kissed softly, and Remus wrapped his arms around her once more, pulling her to him. His skin was so warm and soft, and in his arms she really did feel at home with a sense of calm and wellbeing; but as the minutes rolled by, unmarked by anything but the steady curtain of water falling around then and heartbeats against heartbeats, Tonks found a certain amount of unease creeping in. Soon they would have to get out of the shower and pack up their things, tidy and clean away all trace of their presence, and then their mission would be over. The moment they would have to return to Grimmauld Place, to both ridicule and normality, could only be put off for so much longer; the moment the bubble burst on their private Muggle world would be all too soon in the coming.
Eventually, Remus said, "I am loath to suggest it, but we probably ought to think about getting out and drying off."
Tonks made a vague noise of protest and held him closer.
"I don't want to either, but I don't think it'll be easier to get out the longer we leave it, and if we're not careful, we'll cost the Dursleys the water they need to win next year's All England competition." His hands slid easily down her back and over her bottom, pulling her closer still.
"You're not convincing me," Tonks mumbled into his chest, then raised her chin and meeting his gaze, which she found dizzying, with one of her own that felt every bit as intense as his.
It was, in the end, a good deal later when they finally emerged from the shower, pruney-fingered and a little breathless, but definitely clean.
Read Part Seven
A/N: As Remus will no doubt be a little sore after his jog, reviewers will get the opportunity to give him a soothing massage. Who knows, he may even return the favor... ;)
Authors: godricgal and mrstater
Illustrator: hrymfaxe
Format and word count: chaptered fic, this part weighs in at 3520 words
Rating and 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 |
Part Six
There was a tentative knock on the bathroom door. "Remus?" came Tonks' even more tentative voice from the other side. "Are you ready to go?"
"I'm not going. I'm never coming out of this bathroom. Not in these clothes."
Was that a giggle he heard? If Tonks had laughed, her mood abruptly changed, because that was definitely a heavy sigh of frustration, followed by a gentle thump against the door. He pictured her leaning wearily against it. "Have you thought of an answer to that crossword clue?"
"No." He sounded petulant, even to his own ears.
"Then you've got to come out. We have to go jogging, and Muggles do it in these clothes."
Bugger. Remus looked miserably at his reflection in the full-length mirror hung crookedly on the back of the bathroom door. He looked so bloody stupid. Loose-fitting nylon trousers that were shiny, a hooded jumper two of him could have got inside and emblazoned with a word he was confident had to be gibberish (what the blazes did Adidas mean?) and the most garish shoes -- trainers, Tonks called them -- black and grey and neon yellow, and at least three sizes too big for him. The Muggle clothes looked as ridiculous on him as Augusta Longbottom's dress, vulture hat, fox-fur scarf, and red handbag had looked on Severus. In fact, Remus was sure he could pass for somebody's boggart right now. Probably Tonks'. There was a reason, despite a total lack of athleticism, that he'd never gone out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team: he'd known he'd look like a berk in the uniform. If Padfoot could see him now, he'd laugh his arse off.
"Remus, just come on. I feel pretty silly in my little outfit, too, not to mention the fact that the trousers are so tight I've got the mother of all wedgies. The sooner we can get this jogging over with, the sooner we can get out of these bloody clothes."
A few keywords in Tonks' speech caught Remus' attention: little outfit, tight trousers, and we can get out of these clothes. Curiosity piqued, he took a deep breath, opened the door, and peered around it, still keeping himself out of plain view.
At the sight of Tonks dressed to go jogging, Muggle-style, he found himself struggling to resist the impulse to give a more genuine wolf whistle than most men were capable of. He'd been prepared for the trousers that stopped just below her knees, revealing those shapely calves that had been wrapped around his waist as he made love to her and left nothing to his imagination of her shapely bum (and a highly VPL).
But she hadn't mentioned the fact that what was on top was little more than a bra.
Remus swallowed hard. How in the name of Merlin's sweaty socks (and he hoped the assignment sheet wouldn't read his thoughts and deduct points for Use of Magical Epithet) was he going to be able to concentrate on jogging when Tonks would be right beside him wearing that?
A titter, followed by a muffled snort, diverted his gaze from Tonks' chest to the hand clapped over her mouth and the laughing eyes above it. Remus raised an eyebrow at her.
"I thought you felt so silly in your little outfit that you weren't going to make fun of mine?"
"I'm sorry, Remus," Tonks spluttered around peals of laughter as she removed her hand from her mouth. "But I don't feel quite that silly!"
Glowering playfully, Remus swatted her lightly on her nylon-clad behind. "Outside with you now. You'll pay for laughing at me -- Nymphadora."
Once they'd set off, Remus took every opportunity to snatch a sideways glance at Tonks; the sight of her lean body clad in those skimpy running clothes was almost enough to distract him from his own ridiculous attire. As they set their pace, he tried to concentrate on the image of her breasts -- which had, so recently, been pressed against his chest, cupped in his palms -- bobbing up and down beneath the scratch of material she wore, and console himself with the hope that since they were in a neighbourhood that was exclusively Muggle, he was unlikely to meet with anyone with whom he -- or they -- were acquainted.
It was only after about five minutes on the go (though it felt like twice that long, three times, even), their feet pounding rhythmically against the tarmac, that another very real and rather problematic situation began to present itself. While Tonks quite happily jogging along, looking breezy and bright and as though she was actually rather enjoying herself, Remus was starting to feel weary: breathlessness was catching up with him, and he felt the acidic ache in his muscles he'd always associate with running for his life. The fact was, his very new, considerably younger girlfriend seemed to be in the peak of fitness -- no doubt a result of a strict regimen of training she was still required to fulfil as part of her work schedule -- while he, it could not be denied, was a middle aged werewolf with a reduced lung capacity and limbs no longer fit for strenuous exercise.
He attempted to measure his breaths, to draw them deep and even, but that only seemed to make matters worse. Breathlessness hadn't seemed to matter when it was shared, and you were collapsed on top of your new lover's body, but suddenly Remus felt it was something of which to be more embarrassed than his clothing.
"Remus," Tonks' said beside him, sounding quite unaffected by the exertion, "are you okay?"
"Fine," he puffed automatically. "It's just..." He took a deep breath. "Been-a-while."
She seemed to accept that, and they soldiered on until Remus took a particularly deep breath and a paroxysm of coughs overtook him. Looking sideways at him in obvious concern, Tonks ran straight into a lamppost.
To give her her due credit, she'd managed not to knock herself to the ground, but clutched her forehead with both palms and blinked heavily. The pains in his legs forgotten, but breathing heavily, Remus caught up to her and, with great concern, peeled her hands away from her head. A hefty bruise was already beginning to form in the middle of her head -- a goose egg in the making, if ever there was one.
"Ow," she whimpered, biting her lip. "Reckon I deserved that for laughing at your outfit?"
"Not at all. And I promise I didn't jinx you out of revenge." Remus ran his thumb lightly over the bump and then kissed it, allowing his lips to linger on her skin as he caught his breath. "Better?" he whispered.
"Yeah," she replied as her hands reached up to grasp at the baggy fabric of his jumper. Remus enfolded her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers. It was a soft kiss and it seemed to calm them both, but then it deepened slightly and Remus forgot that he was standing in the middle of a Muggle street; he forgot that he was wearing ridiculous clothes that looked even more ridiculous on his unathletic body.
It was a car honking its horn and a voice bellowing 'Get a room!' as the vehicle revved and roared past that brought them back to the surface of reality. Tonks giggled and took several steps back, stumbling as she stepped onto the downward curve of a driveway, and landing flat on her backside.
"Dora! Are you okay?" he cried.
To his relief, she laughed. "It's okay, I'm just falling in love."
Despite the fact that his heart had been thumping wildly during their run and had not yet slowed to its normal tempo, Remus was sure that the flip-flop it gave now was purely the result of Tonks returning the sentiment he'd uttered earlier, as they'd lain naked and tangled together in bed; he'd been breathless with a pounding heart then, too.
"Do you reckon we've jogged enough to complete that portion of our Muggle training?" Remus asked.
Tonks blinked as though adjusting to the sudden about turn in train of thought, then glanced backward over her shoulder in the direction they'd come. They were at least three blocks from the house. "I reckon so. But I'm okay if you want to keep on."
Now Remus blinked. Was she joking? He hadn't been fit to continue before she had her run-in with the lamp-post, and she knew it, as distraction at his trouble was the reason she was on the pavement now. Shaking his head, he held out his hands to her. "We should get you home and tend your forehead."
Tonks sucked in her breath through her teeth as Remus' fingers closed around her palms and started to tug her to her feet. Once she was upright, Remus released them, and uncurled her fingers, turning her palms outward. He hissed in sympathy at the sight of torn skin surrounding deep red gashes; her hands were dusted with a fine, shimmering layer of gravel and dust.
"Dora! Why didn't you tell me you'd scraped your hands?"
"The bump on my head hurt so badly I didn't notice. Anyway, it's just grazed hands. Not a big deal." Her voice was pained, quavering slightly as if she were trying very hard not to let on how much the scrapes stung; but her lips twitched upward in a slight smile. "You called me Dora."
"Did I?" The affectionate nickname had slipped from Remus' lips without his having thought about it. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Tonks said. "I like it."
Remus brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them, very lightly, above her wounds. "Well, then, Dora -- shall we patch you up, and then act on that Muggle driver's very fine idea of getting a room?"
She grinned brightly. "Considering we're going to have to grovel before Sirius to remove the contraceptive charm from our score sheet, I think we'd definitely better make the most of it."
As she turned to head back the way they'd come, a bright patch of pink in the midst of her tight black jogging trousers evoked a laugh from Remus' tortured lungs.
"Um, Dora?"
She stopped in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder at him with a questioningly raised eyebrow.
"It seems we're going to have to learn to sew like Muggles, as well."
Tonks craned her neck to follow his eyes to her bum, where the ripped seam of her trousers revealed her underwear. "Oh, bloody buggering--" Her hand shot back to cover the hole. "Stop laughing, Remus!"
"There's your payback. But I'll happily keep you covered up on the walk home," he offered.
"How chivalrous," Tonks dead-panned, not releasing the seat of her trousers. "I'll thank you to just walk behind me and keep that mouth shut."
With Remus slightly behind her, ostensibly protecting her modesty, but hand in hand, they half jogged, half briskly walked the distance back to the Muggle house. Though her forehead still ached in palpable pulses, and Remus was clearly a little worse for wear for being somewhat out of shape, Tonks felt their unspoken decision to return with as much haste as possible lay in an eagerness for the shower they'd promised to each other earlier, as well as a slight guilt for cutting their run short. But it was mostly the thought of the shower and what they might do in it that powered Tonks home.
When they reached the house, Tonks held out her hand for the key, which Remus had stored safely in his zipped trouser pocket. While she stood on the step, fiddling with the lock, Remus moved to stand very close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and resting his chin on her shoulder. His arms still around her, they shuffled into the hallway and as the front door closed behind them, Tonks turned to face him.
"How's your head, soldier?"
"Hurts a bit," Tonks replied truthfully, letting her fingers drift up to his neck and play in the soft hair they found there.
Though concern was etched on his kindly features, Tonks noted a definite Marauderish twinkle in Remus' eyes when he said, "Reckon some hot water would do it a power of good. Those hands of yours, too. We need to get that grit out."
"Mm." She rolled forward onto her tiptoes as she stretched up to kiss him. She whispered against his lips, "Will you help me?"
In the bathroom, Tonks left Remus to adjust the faucet until the water was up to temperature, while she examined the lump on her head and wished she were allowed to morph away the sickly blue tinge around its edges. She quickly slipped out of the running trousers and was about to remove the top, when Remus appeared behind her in the mirror. He took her hands gently and moved them away to hang limply by her sides; his eyes flickered to hers in the mirror. She watched, fascinated, with quickening breath, as he removed her top, pulling it over her head and arms.
"You're so beautiful, Dora," he whispered in her ear.
His palms grazed her bare breasts as she leant back against him, wondering, once again, at the easy intimacy they'd cultivated in so short a time. She'd always thought she'd feel self-conscious in nakedness in front of a man, but the way Remus touched her, the way he looked at her, meant she couldn't help but believe the words he spoke, felt comfortable in her own skin -- more so than she'd ever felt without him.
When watching him create the sensations he caused in her became almost too intense for her to stand, she turned her head upwards to kiss him, and he met her half way. During the minutes that ensued, they parted only so she could remove his top -- dissolving once more into giggles at how ridiculous on him it had been -- and then clambered awkwardly into the shower together.
Water fell as hot rain over them; she tasted it on his lips, felt it dripping over her closed eyelids as they kissed. His body was warm and slick beneath her fingers and palms, and the sounds he made -- they made -- reverberated in their private watery space.
Conventional magic might be off limits in this place, but they created it in other ways, and she thought that between them, they might be just as adept at this new brand of magic as they were at the art they'd practiced all their lives.
Remus' voice, low and guttural, reverberated in the tiled shower nook. "Think we can manage to make this work in here?"
Tonks had been kissing along his collarbone, lingering in the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his shower-slicked skin, but now she raised her head to look at him. "Are you implying something about my balance, Lupin?"
She couldn't maintain her expression of mock displeasure when Remus' blue eyes twinkled at her from between strands of wet fringe. His hands slid down beneath her bottom, squeezing and pulling her up against him as he pressed her back against the cold wall of the shower.
"After the recent display of my appalling lack of athleticism, I'm more worried about whether I'm up to the necessary gymnastics."
Resting her hands on his shoulders, Tonks balanced on one leg and hooked the other around his hips. With a groan of pleasure at her movement (and maybe the slightest bit of effort, Tonks thought with a giggle), Remus hoisted her into his arms and she was holding her breath as he just started to enter her.
"Quite impress--ow!" The back of Tonks' head had connected with the shower head. And then her feet thunked against the floor of the shower, nearly slipping out from under her when Remus dropped her in surprise.
Remus kept her upright as he apologized profusely. "Maybe we ought to relocate to the bed...If you even still want to do this now that I've nearly rendered you unconscious."
Tonks thought he might have been flushing, though it was hard to tell, as both their skin was undoubtedly pinkened by the hot water. He reached for the tap, but she placed his hand over his, stopping his movement to shut it off.
"Just avoid the shower head," she told him, "and I'll pretend that never happened and be duly impressed by your show of manly strength."
This time, Remus managed to lift her without incident. He slipped easily into her, and with her legs wrapped securely around his waist, Tonks felt quite comfortably filled by him as the soothing water drummed down on them. For a moment they stared at each other, revelling once again in the very idea of their bodies joined together in so very intimate away.
But of course, there was more to the act of love than this, and Tonks found that as satisfying as it was to be still with Remus inside her, she quivered with need of him.
And she wasn't exactly sure how it was going to work.
Brushing his wet hair out of his face, Tonks tentatively pushed her heels into the small of his back, coaxing an indrawn breath from him. That wasn't quite going to do it.
"What now," she asked?
Remus her cheek and murmured, "Hang on."
Tonks clung to his back, one hand fisting in his tangled wet hair, one of his arms released her and their bodies shifted at an angle as he supported himself with one hand on the shower wall above her head.
He pushed deeper into her, and Tonks' eyes closed as she hummed low in her throat at the sensation.
"Feel good?" Remus asked, rocking his hips against her again.
Tonks could only wag her head lazily against his shoulder as pleasure rippled through her.
"Good," said Remus, in such a way that Tonks wasn't sure whether he was pleased for her, or in agreement with her. "Although now that I'm more confident in my balance, I'm less sure of my endurance..."
"Shower sex isn't an endurance sport."
Remus' chuckle rumbled delightfully through Tonks as their bodies touched. "Well, in that case..."
It wasn't sure and practiced by any stretch of the imagination, but they clung to each other desperately, for more than simply balance or support, and sensation set to overwhelm her, nonetheless. Tonks found herself very aware, once again, of sharing with Remus a very intimate path of discovery and that she felt so comfortable in doing so seemed to reinforce the deep-seated sense of rightness she felt with him.
They didn't last long, the shower of water around them muffled the sounds as they made desperate movements together. Remus relaxed his hold on her and Tonks slid down to support her own weight once more. They held each other loosely; Tonks rested her head against Remus' chest and he buried his face in her neck, the sound of his breath rushing in her ear.
Eventually, Remus looked up, brushed her wet hair back from her face with both hands, and said, "I think we're getting to be pretty good at that."
"Think so"
They kissed softly, and Remus wrapped his arms around her once more, pulling her to him. His skin was so warm and soft, and in his arms she really did feel at home with a sense of calm and wellbeing; but as the minutes rolled by, unmarked by anything but the steady curtain of water falling around then and heartbeats against heartbeats, Tonks found a certain amount of unease creeping in. Soon they would have to get out of the shower and pack up their things, tidy and clean away all trace of their presence, and then their mission would be over. The moment they would have to return to Grimmauld Place, to both ridicule and normality, could only be put off for so much longer; the moment the bubble burst on their private Muggle world would be all too soon in the coming.
Eventually, Remus said, "I am loath to suggest it, but we probably ought to think about getting out and drying off."
Tonks made a vague noise of protest and held him closer.
"I don't want to either, but I don't think it'll be easier to get out the longer we leave it, and if we're not careful, we'll cost the Dursleys the water they need to win next year's All England competition." His hands slid easily down her back and over her bottom, pulling her closer still.
"You're not convincing me," Tonks mumbled into his chest, then raised her chin and meeting his gaze, which she found dizzying, with one of her own that felt every bit as intense as his.
It was, in the end, a good deal later when they finally emerged from the shower, pruney-fingered and a little breathless, but definitely clean.
Read Part Seven
A/N: As Remus will no doubt be a little sore after his jog, reviewers will get the opportunity to give him a soothing massage. Who knows, he may even return the favor... ;)