Threshold
...
Title: Threshold
Author: Portkey (the_portkey)
Rating: PG-13/R for some sexual content
Prompt: piercing (a big stretch, but it's in there)
Word Count: 4,100
Summary: Remus has been reserved since the funeral, and Tonks fears he's not going to move forward with their relationship after all.
Author Notes: I've had this scene in my head since HBP, and this 'last chance showdown' seemed an ideal excuse to put it to page. :) Thanks to willow_wand for the objective opinion, and as usual to jamimegan for the encouragement and quick red pen. ♥
* * *
Threshold
* * *
His suggestion that they go for a broom flight on this lovely summer night had apparently seemed a bit odd to everyone else back at the Burrow. Of course they’d all been supportive of the idea in a rather obvious and conspiratorial way - Molly and Arthur especially - but there was more than one puzzled look left behind in the sitting room when they’d said their goodnights and gone.
There was no mystery in her mind; a broom flight was more his style than the others realised. It was something they could do together, in private, and yet keep a safe distance. It was beautiful and enchanting, but inexpensive and not weighted down with too much conversation. It meant something without necessarily meaning anything. In other words, it was the same slow-moving, careful expression of interest Tonks had learned to expect from Remus Lupin.
As they soared above the English countryside now, with the wind in their hair and the illusion of freedom all around them, Tonks let her broom drag for a mere second or two so that she fell ever-so-slightly behind and could look at him without being obvious.
There was a real boyish element in the way he flew a broom. Of course, outside of professional Quidditch players, few wizards flew brooms once they could Apparate, so maybe it was natural to associate the skill with childhood. But then, Remus behaved boyishly sometimes too; it was one of the first things she noticed about him when they met.
Ironically, though, the very first thing she’d noticed about him was how he didn’t try to get himself noticed. He didn’t do it in a pathetic way, mind, just an unassuming way. He was more of a chameleon than she was, really, always doing his best to blend in with the background at hand…as if he felt compelled to compensate for a personal belief that he wouldn’t be noticed anyway.
If she could only choose one, it was probably that bit of his character that she fell in love with first. That quiet, unassuming boyishness. And as he flew beside her, with the heavy twilight washing the grey out of his hair, she could easily imagine what he must have been like at school. He wasn’t too old for her. She’d told him that so many times. But he kept letting things get in the way.
Remus glanced at her over his shoulder. “All right?” he shouted. She smiled and nodded, and then he smiled too before his attention returned to the flight.
All right? That was the very question she’d been wanting to ask him.
Granted, it had only been a week since Dumbledore’s passing. The shock and pain remained fresh for everyone, each person wrestling with fears and questions about the future in their own way. But life urged folks to keep moving, no matter what. Would Remus decide to move forward or backward, though? That was her main, if entirely selfish, question about the future.
Sure, he’d been coming round the last few days, spending time with her or whatever - which was a definite improvement over this past horrible year - but the disappointing truth was he hadn’t touched her since the funeral. And okay, maybe she’d been the one to take his hand that day, but he’d let her - and he’d held on when he didn’t have to…when he could’ve just as easily let go.
Since he hadn’t been forced, she’d hoped…believed in her heart he’d taken the first solid step that day. That it was a sign he was finally going to give her - them - a chance. But she had to admit it wasn’t looking quite so solid anymore. Maybe it had only been a sign that even Remus needed his hand held that day. After all, saying goodbye to Dumbledore had been a very sad and difficult thing to do…
Remus pulled back on the handle of his broom just then, and she shot past him some distance before she did the same. Although he caught up with her, he continued to slow down until they could speak without shouting over the wind whistling in their ears. His gaze was fixed upon the indistinct landscape beneath them.
“Follow me,” he said.
He leaned into a soft-dive descent toward the ground and Tonks stayed right behind him, curiosity growing as nothing but a grassy hill came into focus in the failing light. He landed on the hill’s crest, and when she’d done the same and come to stand beside him, he nodded toward the horizon.
“I thought you might like the view,” he said. It sounded as if he’d had this stop planned all along.
He was right, though. It was a lovely view. The sun had set a while ago, but the curtain was still falling on its brilliant show, far beyond the Irish Sea. A benign sliver of the moon was rising to take the sun’s place in the sky, and its white face - along with the first brave stars - was reflected in the surface of a large pond below.
“It’s beautiful to be sure, Remus.”
“It is.” He took a deep breath and sighed, and there was a long hesitation before he said, “I also thought we might…have a talk.”
Despite the fact that no one else could possibly hear him out here in the middle of nowhere, his hoarse voice was very soft and quiet and it made her heart sink. It was common knowledge that ‘a talk’ was rarely a good thing, and his history of letting her down gently meant it was likely the atmosphere wasn’t chosen for romance, but rather to make an unpleasant conversation more tolerable.
The familiar lovesick feeling already beginning to tighten her stomach into knots, Tonks straightened her shoulders and turned to face him, trying to mentally prepare herself to hear the worst. Again. She took a deep breath and sighed in much the same way he had.
“Sure,” she replied, as casually as she could manage. “What’s on your mind?”
“We’ll need something to sit on first,” he said, his voice still unnervingly quiet.
Remus lit his wand and then reached into the breast pocket of his dress shirt and retrieved a miniature chair. He set it on the ground and cast a quick Engorgio, and an over-sized and worn out chair bloomed on the spot. Although she had yet to be invited there, Tonks assumed it must have come from the sitting room of his own place.
She stared at the out-of-place piece of furniture as her thoughts momentarily careened to the other extreme. If he’d planned ahead to have this talk…if he’d planned to break her heart again, surely he wouldn’t have brought just one cozy chair…? Unless, of course, he intended for her to sit while he paced out another lecture on his unsuitability…
To her surprise he took the brooms and tossed them into the grass beside the chair, extinguished his wand, and sat down first, leaving enough room for her. She turned and slowly settled down beside him, taking care not to blacken his eye with her elbow or something. Suddenly feeling a lot like an anxious teenager caught in a dreaded is-this-a-date-or-not situation, she reminded herself to stay calm and breathe.
For a while Remus didn’t say a word. Possibilities began to hum in her head as she wondered what was on that complicated mind of his. It was odd to have a gut full of feeling, and yet have no gut feeling about what he was working up the nerve to say. So far the whole thing felt like one big mixed message.
“Come here often?” she blurted, uncomfortable with the long lull in conversation.
“I used to.”
More silence.
“You bring all the girls you know up here, then?” she goaded, jokingly.
“Oh…no.” Tonks cast a cautious, sideways glance at him. He seemed to be staring straight ahead, but there was a vague - and boyish - smile on his face. “I grew up not far from here,” he went on. “Near Rookhope, remember?”
“Right,” she said quickly. She knew that’s where he’d lived as a boy, she just hadn’t realised they’d flown as far as Durham. She hadn’t been paying attention. “Of course I remember.”
“Many family picnics here,” he said distantly, as if old memories were streaming through his head, “but no…no girls.”
As he lapsed into maddening silence once more, the palms of her hands habitually rubbed at the leggings that covered her knees. Now that the sun had gone down the temperature was dropping quickly out here on this hill, and between that and her wracked nerves she was going to get cold soon.
She stole a second glance at his face and tried to calculate the odds of another forward, relationshippy sort of move scaring him blind. Deciding that the gods of romance and progress had set her up to chance it, she grabbed hold of his arm by the sleeve, lifted it shoulder-high, and ducked underneath.
“So I’m the first one, then.” Tonks bit her lip, waiting for his reaction, and was thrilled when his arm slipped into a more comfortable position and he pulled her closer. “I like that.”
“Yes,” he said, his husky voice quiet again. “You’re the first one.”
There was something about the way he’d said those words that told her he meant much more by them, and for an uncertain moment Tonks considered the possibility that she might be dreaming. Maybe she was really at home in her bed, her heart and brain conspiring against her in her sleep again.
A quick, surreptitious pinch of her thigh was painful, so no, she wasn’t dreaming. They were really here, and he really had his arm around her, and he’d really just said what he said the way he said it.
He’d said they’d have a talk, but other than answer her questions, he wasn’t talking. Maybe, for once, ‘talking’ meant something else. She waited, listening to the slight breeze roll through the grass around them. Then she shifted and turned toward him, leaning against his shoulder and tilting her head back in the hope of seeing his expression. Okay, it was really in the hope he’d get the idea and kiss her.
It was almost completely dark now, but she could see his profile as he continued to stare at the landscape he couldn’t really see, but probably knew perfectly from memory. Tonks waited a bit longer, but then, with her heart beating insanely, she laid the palm of her hand on his leg. After a few moments she slid it over the top and toward the inside of his thigh, her fingertips coming to rest on the inseam of his trousers. She couldn’t imagine there was anything mixed about her message.
Remus slowly turned and looked down at her. She instinctively lifted her chin as an invitation, and just when it seemed he was going to lean in, he hesitated. Even inches away, the darkness made it impossible to read the details of his face, but she somehow knew the look upon it…could feel more than see the piercing gravity in his eyes. He finally drifted the remaining distance and touched his lips to hers.
The earth didn’t shift on its axis. The sky wasn’t gloriously rent in two by the magic. The ground hadn’t even trembled. It wasn’t at all how she’d imagined their first kiss would be. It was dry and awkward…a brief, boyish sort of kiss that only proved - despite his age and experience - just how much it meant to him.
He was already pulling back, too, and fearful he might believe that was the best they could do, Tonks lifted her hand from his warm thigh and caught him at the nape of the neck before he could get too far away.
“Remus,” she whispered, “I love you rotten…you know it.”
His collar brushed against the back of her fingers when he nodded, and a second later he kissed her again. And again. Much better this time…wetter, softer, and more skilled…but they were the kisses of man who wasn’t used to being the object of someone’s unshakable affection. If it were possible, that small revelation made her love him more.
Every kiss got deeper, more passionate, lasting longer and longer…until she couldn’t really tell anymore when one ended and the next began. They were both undone. Time slipped past - how much, she had no clue - but her arm was starting to tingle from holding it above her heart for too long.
She let her hand slide away from his neck, and it traveled down his arm and along his hip, returning to the same place on his thigh it had been before. His fingers covered hers there, holding them for a moment before moving on, and she could barely breathe when they left her elbow and smoothed over the sensitive curve that lay just beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. The planet hadn’t just shifted, it had gone full-tilt.
Something that felt so good should never end, but it did a few minutes later when her hand strayed over the fly of his trousers. His soft, throaty groan drifted past her lips before he pulled away. He relaxed into the corner of the chair and pressed his head back against the cushion. She could hear him breathing raggedly.
“You’re not going to ruin this, are you?” she asked quietly, trying to keep all trace of serious accusation and disappointment out of her voice.
“God, I hope not.” He filled his chest with air and then released it in a slow, almost whistling breath. “But…we need to talk.”
“Whhhhy?” she whinged. “What could possibly be left to talk about, Remus?” Tonks felt something crawling on the skin below her legging and slapped at it with the frustration she felt. It turned out to be just a tall blade of grass. She waited for an answer, but believing she’d given him long enough, she leaned in and grabbed hold of the front of his shirt. “Hello?”
He took hold of her elbows then, and she allowed him to steer her around until she was more or less stretched over his lap, her head on his arm rest and her knees slung over the other, booted feet dangling. Remus carefully adjusted his hips beneath her, and she smirked when it occurred to her what his problem was. He was safe for the time being, though; with this arrangement, he’d cleverly seen to it her hands couldn’t wander anywhere…inspirational.
Once she’d stopped fidgeting and settled down he continued, his hand absently gliding back and forth over one of her knees. “I’ve been thinking…quite a lot the last few days.”
“Yeah? About what?”
“About you. About…us.”
Given his past record on either subject, this announcement wasn’t necessarily promising. “Okay.”
“Tonks,” he began, his voice as hoarse and quiet as when they’d first arrived, “where do you see this taking us in the next five, ten…twenty years?”
Astonished by the question, she laughed. “And they say women are the ones who always want to know where a relationship is going.”
“They are. In one form or other, it’s the same question you’ve asked me - a million times, at last count,” he said wryly. “But indulge me this once, all right?”
As she considered the truthful answer, Tonks picked out a particularly bright star above his head to speak to, thinking that might make it easier to say the words. “Honestly, Remus, I’ve tried not to assume…to think quite that far ahead. I mean, until a little while ago I was still in the ‘is he ever going to kiss me’ stage.”
His arm moved behind her head, and she shivered involuntarily when his fingers slowly sifted through the strands of her hair. “And now that I have, what’s next?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think will happen next?”
“I don’t know.” Tonks shrugged, her shoulder rubbing against his ribs. She wasn’t sure what he was asking. “More, I hope.”
She could see the outline of his head against the stars as he nodded. “And more usually leads to…more.” His other hand slid from her knee and just far enough down the inside of her thigh to illustrate. “Doesn’t it?”
“Mmm…unless you’re in love with someone who apparently prefers to talk,” she replied sarcastically.
Remus laughed quietly for a moment, but when he spoke again there was no trace of humour in his voice. “The point is, I’m not the sort of man you-”
“Oh please, Remus, don’t,” she interrupted, panicking immediately. He was going to ruin it. Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled through them. “I really can’t bear to hear you say it again. You can’t do this…you can’t push me away - not now - not after-”
His hand left her thigh and closed around one of her wrists, gently prying it away from her face. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said steadily. “I’m finished with all that…all the…denial.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I thought that was obvious tonight.”
She stared up at the darkened features of his face with her uncovered eye. “Okay…I’m listening.”
He sighed again. “I was going to say…I’m not the sort of man you can…sleep with on a whim.”
“Oh.” Tonks felt a flush in her skin and suppressed a giggle of pure relief. Yeah, that was basically the opposite of pushing her away. She took his hand and clasped it with both of hers, holding all three against her chest. “Well…after two years, even you have to admit it can hardly be classified as a whim.”
“I suppose not.” He shifted his hips again, slouching a little further down in the soft chair. “But I need to know that you’re sure - that you’ve thought about what it will mean.”
“What do you mean, what it will mean?”
“If you go down this road with me, Tonks, the association will last a lifetime in the minds of others.”
“I don’t care what’s in the minds of others,” she said, automatically reciting part of her mantra. “Besides, I think the word is pretty much out that there’s some kind of association between us.”
“That’s not what I mean…”
“Okay, then I’m lost.”
He sighed heavily, and she had the distinct impression he was getting all agitated and intense. “Let me speak plainly, then,” he said.
“I wish you would.”
“If we…if it becomes known that you’ve been with me…in a werewolf’s bed, no man who values his reputation will have you after.” He paused and she heard him swallow with difficulty. Riveted, she didn’t interrupt. “I’m ashamed to say there was a time…in my past…when I was careless about the lasting effects of my behaviour. It’s no defence, I know, but I was young and selfish…thoughtless…and I never…well, it was never about love. It was never you. You need to know that it won’t be accepted…it won’t be forgiven like two friends holding hands on a day of grief.”
The strange feeling spread through her instantly. She felt numb…overtaken, really, and tears welled in her eyes. She’d always believed he loved her; she wouldn’t’ve pursued him so stubbornly if she hadn’t. But after all the arguments and denials he’d the same as said it, and it was humbling to hear it outright…to hear the sort of thoughts he really had about her. You’re the first one. That’s what he’d meant earlier, and she understood now, in a way she hadn’t before, that he’d never wanted to be a martyr.
“If it didn’t happen to work out with us, and you wanted to start a different life,” he continued, “you’d soon find yourself caring quite a bit about what’s in the minds of others. You might anyway, once the dew is off the rose.”
“We haven’t even got started and you’re already imagining we’ll fail,” she said softly, turning her face toward her shoulder to blot a runaway tear.
“You have to believe me, Tonks, being treated like damaged goods isn’t an easy life, and because of me you will be - make no mistake.”
“But I don’t care-”
“I know you don’t right now, but in time it may wear at your confidence in me…in yourself…in your decision,” he said, sounding more like a professor than he ever had. “I’ve had to face the same question…would I be willing to stay…could I be yours to the rattle even if it goes wrong. It’s a lot to ask of each other.”
She stared at the moon’s reflection on the still pond below and a terrible thought occurred to her. “Are you afraid you’ll grow tired of me?” He was silent for longer than she expected and it scared her. “Remus?”
“You…whom age cannot wither, nor custom stale your infinite variety?” he asked thoughtfully, his fingers sifting through her hair again. “I’ve never considered a future with someone before, so I’m not really qualified to answer with any authority, but…”
“But…?”
“No, I can’t imagine ever growing tired of you,” he replied, his voice unusually raspy. Somehow it made her feel warm inside. “That would make me a most ungrateful soul - not to mention a complete idiot.”
She smiled and turned to look at him, searching the dark for his face. “So is this what we needed to talk about - that if we sleep with each other, we’ll be stuck with each other - or is there something else?”
“No,” he said with a gentle laugh, “that’s it.”
“Hmm. Well, am I allowed to say something now?”
“Of course.”
“I think you’ve forgotten something important.”
“What?”
“That one or both us of could end up dead tomorrow. I mean, considering the state of things, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility, is it?”
He sighed deeply enough that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “No,” he replied in a tight near-whisper.
“So there’s really no guarantee of anything,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I do know one thing for sure.” She paused as she let go of his hand and slowly ran hers up the front of his shirt, fingering the buttons along the way. “I want to live - and celebrate the sort of life I’m fighting for - and I refuse to spend another minute worrying about whether it’ll be posh enough, or about what other people will think of me and who I want to be with.” Her fingers reached his collar and she pulled down on one side of it until their lips nearly met. “And that’s you.”
He kissed her softly several times, and then his hand moved from the edges of her hair to the back of her head, while the other slid behind her shoulder and pulled her toward him. As she coiled her arm around his neck he pressed close, and within a few moments they were nearly undone again, recapturing the mood he had so rudely interrupted earlier.
“Let’s…go somewhere,” she managed to mumble.
“Like…where?”
“Mmm…after what you said,” she whispered between kisses, “I think it has to be…the werewolf’s bed.” She had a fraction of a second to smile before the next kiss. “Would you mind?”
There was a vague ‘hm mm’ against her lips and then he gently released his hold on her. Nudging her knees off the armrest of the chair, his hand trailed down her back as she came to a wobbly stand on the uneven ground. Once she seemed steady, he lit his wand and worked himself out of the chair as well.
Remus cast Reducio upon the chair and the brooms, retrieving the miniatures from the grass and tucking them into his shirt pocket. He took hold of her hand then, and she leaned against him as they stood together and silently appreciated the view a final time. She watched as the slight breeze came up again and momentarily blurred the stars that danced on the pond’s surface.
“All right?” he asked softly, the boyish expression on his face enhanced by the wandlight. At her nod his grip tightened on her hand. “Hang on, then.”
Tonks felt the onset of Apparition and closed her eyes. She and Remus were crossing more than the inky black gap in time and space, it was the threshold between the past and the future. Their future.
* * *
A/N: The ‘age cannot wither, nor custom stale your infinite variety’ line that Remus uses is from Act II, Scene II of Shakespeare’s Anthony and Cleopatra.
...
Title: Threshold
Author: Portkey (the_portkey)
Rating: PG-13/R for some sexual content
Prompt: piercing (a big stretch, but it's in there)
Word Count: 4,100
Summary: Remus has been reserved since the funeral, and Tonks fears he's not going to move forward with their relationship after all.
Author Notes: I've had this scene in my head since HBP, and this 'last chance showdown' seemed an ideal excuse to put it to page. :) Thanks to willow_wand for the objective opinion, and as usual to jamimegan for the encouragement and quick red pen. ♥
* * *
Threshold
* * *
His suggestion that they go for a broom flight on this lovely summer night had apparently seemed a bit odd to everyone else back at the Burrow. Of course they’d all been supportive of the idea in a rather obvious and conspiratorial way - Molly and Arthur especially - but there was more than one puzzled look left behind in the sitting room when they’d said their goodnights and gone.
There was no mystery in her mind; a broom flight was more his style than the others realised. It was something they could do together, in private, and yet keep a safe distance. It was beautiful and enchanting, but inexpensive and not weighted down with too much conversation. It meant something without necessarily meaning anything. In other words, it was the same slow-moving, careful expression of interest Tonks had learned to expect from Remus Lupin.
As they soared above the English countryside now, with the wind in their hair and the illusion of freedom all around them, Tonks let her broom drag for a mere second or two so that she fell ever-so-slightly behind and could look at him without being obvious.
There was a real boyish element in the way he flew a broom. Of course, outside of professional Quidditch players, few wizards flew brooms once they could Apparate, so maybe it was natural to associate the skill with childhood. But then, Remus behaved boyishly sometimes too; it was one of the first things she noticed about him when they met.
Ironically, though, the very first thing she’d noticed about him was how he didn’t try to get himself noticed. He didn’t do it in a pathetic way, mind, just an unassuming way. He was more of a chameleon than she was, really, always doing his best to blend in with the background at hand…as if he felt compelled to compensate for a personal belief that he wouldn’t be noticed anyway.
If she could only choose one, it was probably that bit of his character that she fell in love with first. That quiet, unassuming boyishness. And as he flew beside her, with the heavy twilight washing the grey out of his hair, she could easily imagine what he must have been like at school. He wasn’t too old for her. She’d told him that so many times. But he kept letting things get in the way.
Remus glanced at her over his shoulder. “All right?” he shouted. She smiled and nodded, and then he smiled too before his attention returned to the flight.
All right? That was the very question she’d been wanting to ask him.
Granted, it had only been a week since Dumbledore’s passing. The shock and pain remained fresh for everyone, each person wrestling with fears and questions about the future in their own way. But life urged folks to keep moving, no matter what. Would Remus decide to move forward or backward, though? That was her main, if entirely selfish, question about the future.
Sure, he’d been coming round the last few days, spending time with her or whatever - which was a definite improvement over this past horrible year - but the disappointing truth was he hadn’t touched her since the funeral. And okay, maybe she’d been the one to take his hand that day, but he’d let her - and he’d held on when he didn’t have to…when he could’ve just as easily let go.
Since he hadn’t been forced, she’d hoped…believed in her heart he’d taken the first solid step that day. That it was a sign he was finally going to give her - them - a chance. But she had to admit it wasn’t looking quite so solid anymore. Maybe it had only been a sign that even Remus needed his hand held that day. After all, saying goodbye to Dumbledore had been a very sad and difficult thing to do…
Remus pulled back on the handle of his broom just then, and she shot past him some distance before she did the same. Although he caught up with her, he continued to slow down until they could speak without shouting over the wind whistling in their ears. His gaze was fixed upon the indistinct landscape beneath them.
“Follow me,” he said.
He leaned into a soft-dive descent toward the ground and Tonks stayed right behind him, curiosity growing as nothing but a grassy hill came into focus in the failing light. He landed on the hill’s crest, and when she’d done the same and come to stand beside him, he nodded toward the horizon.
“I thought you might like the view,” he said. It sounded as if he’d had this stop planned all along.
He was right, though. It was a lovely view. The sun had set a while ago, but the curtain was still falling on its brilliant show, far beyond the Irish Sea. A benign sliver of the moon was rising to take the sun’s place in the sky, and its white face - along with the first brave stars - was reflected in the surface of a large pond below.
“It’s beautiful to be sure, Remus.”
“It is.” He took a deep breath and sighed, and there was a long hesitation before he said, “I also thought we might…have a talk.”
Despite the fact that no one else could possibly hear him out here in the middle of nowhere, his hoarse voice was very soft and quiet and it made her heart sink. It was common knowledge that ‘a talk’ was rarely a good thing, and his history of letting her down gently meant it was likely the atmosphere wasn’t chosen for romance, but rather to make an unpleasant conversation more tolerable.
The familiar lovesick feeling already beginning to tighten her stomach into knots, Tonks straightened her shoulders and turned to face him, trying to mentally prepare herself to hear the worst. Again. She took a deep breath and sighed in much the same way he had.
“Sure,” she replied, as casually as she could manage. “What’s on your mind?”
“We’ll need something to sit on first,” he said, his voice still unnervingly quiet.
Remus lit his wand and then reached into the breast pocket of his dress shirt and retrieved a miniature chair. He set it on the ground and cast a quick Engorgio, and an over-sized and worn out chair bloomed on the spot. Although she had yet to be invited there, Tonks assumed it must have come from the sitting room of his own place.
She stared at the out-of-place piece of furniture as her thoughts momentarily careened to the other extreme. If he’d planned ahead to have this talk…if he’d planned to break her heart again, surely he wouldn’t have brought just one cozy chair…? Unless, of course, he intended for her to sit while he paced out another lecture on his unsuitability…
To her surprise he took the brooms and tossed them into the grass beside the chair, extinguished his wand, and sat down first, leaving enough room for her. She turned and slowly settled down beside him, taking care not to blacken his eye with her elbow or something. Suddenly feeling a lot like an anxious teenager caught in a dreaded is-this-a-date-or-not situation, she reminded herself to stay calm and breathe.
For a while Remus didn’t say a word. Possibilities began to hum in her head as she wondered what was on that complicated mind of his. It was odd to have a gut full of feeling, and yet have no gut feeling about what he was working up the nerve to say. So far the whole thing felt like one big mixed message.
“Come here often?” she blurted, uncomfortable with the long lull in conversation.
“I used to.”
More silence.
“You bring all the girls you know up here, then?” she goaded, jokingly.
“Oh…no.” Tonks cast a cautious, sideways glance at him. He seemed to be staring straight ahead, but there was a vague - and boyish - smile on his face. “I grew up not far from here,” he went on. “Near Rookhope, remember?”
“Right,” she said quickly. She knew that’s where he’d lived as a boy, she just hadn’t realised they’d flown as far as Durham. She hadn’t been paying attention. “Of course I remember.”
“Many family picnics here,” he said distantly, as if old memories were streaming through his head, “but no…no girls.”
As he lapsed into maddening silence once more, the palms of her hands habitually rubbed at the leggings that covered her knees. Now that the sun had gone down the temperature was dropping quickly out here on this hill, and between that and her wracked nerves she was going to get cold soon.
She stole a second glance at his face and tried to calculate the odds of another forward, relationshippy sort of move scaring him blind. Deciding that the gods of romance and progress had set her up to chance it, she grabbed hold of his arm by the sleeve, lifted it shoulder-high, and ducked underneath.
“So I’m the first one, then.” Tonks bit her lip, waiting for his reaction, and was thrilled when his arm slipped into a more comfortable position and he pulled her closer. “I like that.”
“Yes,” he said, his husky voice quiet again. “You’re the first one.”
There was something about the way he’d said those words that told her he meant much more by them, and for an uncertain moment Tonks considered the possibility that she might be dreaming. Maybe she was really at home in her bed, her heart and brain conspiring against her in her sleep again.
A quick, surreptitious pinch of her thigh was painful, so no, she wasn’t dreaming. They were really here, and he really had his arm around her, and he’d really just said what he said the way he said it.
He’d said they’d have a talk, but other than answer her questions, he wasn’t talking. Maybe, for once, ‘talking’ meant something else. She waited, listening to the slight breeze roll through the grass around them. Then she shifted and turned toward him, leaning against his shoulder and tilting her head back in the hope of seeing his expression. Okay, it was really in the hope he’d get the idea and kiss her.
It was almost completely dark now, but she could see his profile as he continued to stare at the landscape he couldn’t really see, but probably knew perfectly from memory. Tonks waited a bit longer, but then, with her heart beating insanely, she laid the palm of her hand on his leg. After a few moments she slid it over the top and toward the inside of his thigh, her fingertips coming to rest on the inseam of his trousers. She couldn’t imagine there was anything mixed about her message.
Remus slowly turned and looked down at her. She instinctively lifted her chin as an invitation, and just when it seemed he was going to lean in, he hesitated. Even inches away, the darkness made it impossible to read the details of his face, but she somehow knew the look upon it…could feel more than see the piercing gravity in his eyes. He finally drifted the remaining distance and touched his lips to hers.
The earth didn’t shift on its axis. The sky wasn’t gloriously rent in two by the magic. The ground hadn’t even trembled. It wasn’t at all how she’d imagined their first kiss would be. It was dry and awkward…a brief, boyish sort of kiss that only proved - despite his age and experience - just how much it meant to him.
He was already pulling back, too, and fearful he might believe that was the best they could do, Tonks lifted her hand from his warm thigh and caught him at the nape of the neck before he could get too far away.
“Remus,” she whispered, “I love you rotten…you know it.”
His collar brushed against the back of her fingers when he nodded, and a second later he kissed her again. And again. Much better this time…wetter, softer, and more skilled…but they were the kisses of man who wasn’t used to being the object of someone’s unshakable affection. If it were possible, that small revelation made her love him more.
Every kiss got deeper, more passionate, lasting longer and longer…until she couldn’t really tell anymore when one ended and the next began. They were both undone. Time slipped past - how much, she had no clue - but her arm was starting to tingle from holding it above her heart for too long.
She let her hand slide away from his neck, and it traveled down his arm and along his hip, returning to the same place on his thigh it had been before. His fingers covered hers there, holding them for a moment before moving on, and she could barely breathe when they left her elbow and smoothed over the sensitive curve that lay just beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. The planet hadn’t just shifted, it had gone full-tilt.
Something that felt so good should never end, but it did a few minutes later when her hand strayed over the fly of his trousers. His soft, throaty groan drifted past her lips before he pulled away. He relaxed into the corner of the chair and pressed his head back against the cushion. She could hear him breathing raggedly.
“You’re not going to ruin this, are you?” she asked quietly, trying to keep all trace of serious accusation and disappointment out of her voice.
“God, I hope not.” He filled his chest with air and then released it in a slow, almost whistling breath. “But…we need to talk.”
“Whhhhy?” she whinged. “What could possibly be left to talk about, Remus?” Tonks felt something crawling on the skin below her legging and slapped at it with the frustration she felt. It turned out to be just a tall blade of grass. She waited for an answer, but believing she’d given him long enough, she leaned in and grabbed hold of the front of his shirt. “Hello?”
He took hold of her elbows then, and she allowed him to steer her around until she was more or less stretched over his lap, her head on his arm rest and her knees slung over the other, booted feet dangling. Remus carefully adjusted his hips beneath her, and she smirked when it occurred to her what his problem was. He was safe for the time being, though; with this arrangement, he’d cleverly seen to it her hands couldn’t wander anywhere…inspirational.
Once she’d stopped fidgeting and settled down he continued, his hand absently gliding back and forth over one of her knees. “I’ve been thinking…quite a lot the last few days.”
“Yeah? About what?”
“About you. About…us.”
Given his past record on either subject, this announcement wasn’t necessarily promising. “Okay.”
“Tonks,” he began, his voice as hoarse and quiet as when they’d first arrived, “where do you see this taking us in the next five, ten…twenty years?”
Astonished by the question, she laughed. “And they say women are the ones who always want to know where a relationship is going.”
“They are. In one form or other, it’s the same question you’ve asked me - a million times, at last count,” he said wryly. “But indulge me this once, all right?”
As she considered the truthful answer, Tonks picked out a particularly bright star above his head to speak to, thinking that might make it easier to say the words. “Honestly, Remus, I’ve tried not to assume…to think quite that far ahead. I mean, until a little while ago I was still in the ‘is he ever going to kiss me’ stage.”
His arm moved behind her head, and she shivered involuntarily when his fingers slowly sifted through the strands of her hair. “And now that I have, what’s next?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think will happen next?”
“I don’t know.” Tonks shrugged, her shoulder rubbing against his ribs. She wasn’t sure what he was asking. “More, I hope.”
She could see the outline of his head against the stars as he nodded. “And more usually leads to…more.” His other hand slid from her knee and just far enough down the inside of her thigh to illustrate. “Doesn’t it?”
“Mmm…unless you’re in love with someone who apparently prefers to talk,” she replied sarcastically.
Remus laughed quietly for a moment, but when he spoke again there was no trace of humour in his voice. “The point is, I’m not the sort of man you-”
“Oh please, Remus, don’t,” she interrupted, panicking immediately. He was going to ruin it. Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled through them. “I really can’t bear to hear you say it again. You can’t do this…you can’t push me away - not now - not after-”
His hand left her thigh and closed around one of her wrists, gently prying it away from her face. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said steadily. “I’m finished with all that…all the…denial.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I thought that was obvious tonight.”
She stared up at the darkened features of his face with her uncovered eye. “Okay…I’m listening.”
He sighed again. “I was going to say…I’m not the sort of man you can…sleep with on a whim.”
“Oh.” Tonks felt a flush in her skin and suppressed a giggle of pure relief. Yeah, that was basically the opposite of pushing her away. She took his hand and clasped it with both of hers, holding all three against her chest. “Well…after two years, even you have to admit it can hardly be classified as a whim.”
“I suppose not.” He shifted his hips again, slouching a little further down in the soft chair. “But I need to know that you’re sure - that you’ve thought about what it will mean.”
“What do you mean, what it will mean?”
“If you go down this road with me, Tonks, the association will last a lifetime in the minds of others.”
“I don’t care what’s in the minds of others,” she said, automatically reciting part of her mantra. “Besides, I think the word is pretty much out that there’s some kind of association between us.”
“That’s not what I mean…”
“Okay, then I’m lost.”
He sighed heavily, and she had the distinct impression he was getting all agitated and intense. “Let me speak plainly, then,” he said.
“I wish you would.”
“If we…if it becomes known that you’ve been with me…in a werewolf’s bed, no man who values his reputation will have you after.” He paused and she heard him swallow with difficulty. Riveted, she didn’t interrupt. “I’m ashamed to say there was a time…in my past…when I was careless about the lasting effects of my behaviour. It’s no defence, I know, but I was young and selfish…thoughtless…and I never…well, it was never about love. It was never you. You need to know that it won’t be accepted…it won’t be forgiven like two friends holding hands on a day of grief.”
The strange feeling spread through her instantly. She felt numb…overtaken, really, and tears welled in her eyes. She’d always believed he loved her; she wouldn’t’ve pursued him so stubbornly if she hadn’t. But after all the arguments and denials he’d the same as said it, and it was humbling to hear it outright…to hear the sort of thoughts he really had about her. You’re the first one. That’s what he’d meant earlier, and she understood now, in a way she hadn’t before, that he’d never wanted to be a martyr.
“If it didn’t happen to work out with us, and you wanted to start a different life,” he continued, “you’d soon find yourself caring quite a bit about what’s in the minds of others. You might anyway, once the dew is off the rose.”
“We haven’t even got started and you’re already imagining we’ll fail,” she said softly, turning her face toward her shoulder to blot a runaway tear.
“You have to believe me, Tonks, being treated like damaged goods isn’t an easy life, and because of me you will be - make no mistake.”
“But I don’t care-”
“I know you don’t right now, but in time it may wear at your confidence in me…in yourself…in your decision,” he said, sounding more like a professor than he ever had. “I’ve had to face the same question…would I be willing to stay…could I be yours to the rattle even if it goes wrong. It’s a lot to ask of each other.”
She stared at the moon’s reflection on the still pond below and a terrible thought occurred to her. “Are you afraid you’ll grow tired of me?” He was silent for longer than she expected and it scared her. “Remus?”
“You…whom age cannot wither, nor custom stale your infinite variety?” he asked thoughtfully, his fingers sifting through her hair again. “I’ve never considered a future with someone before, so I’m not really qualified to answer with any authority, but…”
“But…?”
“No, I can’t imagine ever growing tired of you,” he replied, his voice unusually raspy. Somehow it made her feel warm inside. “That would make me a most ungrateful soul - not to mention a complete idiot.”
She smiled and turned to look at him, searching the dark for his face. “So is this what we needed to talk about - that if we sleep with each other, we’ll be stuck with each other - or is there something else?”
“No,” he said with a gentle laugh, “that’s it.”
“Hmm. Well, am I allowed to say something now?”
“Of course.”
“I think you’ve forgotten something important.”
“What?”
“That one or both us of could end up dead tomorrow. I mean, considering the state of things, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility, is it?”
He sighed deeply enough that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “No,” he replied in a tight near-whisper.
“So there’s really no guarantee of anything,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I do know one thing for sure.” She paused as she let go of his hand and slowly ran hers up the front of his shirt, fingering the buttons along the way. “I want to live - and celebrate the sort of life I’m fighting for - and I refuse to spend another minute worrying about whether it’ll be posh enough, or about what other people will think of me and who I want to be with.” Her fingers reached his collar and she pulled down on one side of it until their lips nearly met. “And that’s you.”
He kissed her softly several times, and then his hand moved from the edges of her hair to the back of her head, while the other slid behind her shoulder and pulled her toward him. As she coiled her arm around his neck he pressed close, and within a few moments they were nearly undone again, recapturing the mood he had so rudely interrupted earlier.
“Let’s…go somewhere,” she managed to mumble.
“Like…where?”
“Mmm…after what you said,” she whispered between kisses, “I think it has to be…the werewolf’s bed.” She had a fraction of a second to smile before the next kiss. “Would you mind?”
There was a vague ‘hm mm’ against her lips and then he gently released his hold on her. Nudging her knees off the armrest of the chair, his hand trailed down her back as she came to a wobbly stand on the uneven ground. Once she seemed steady, he lit his wand and worked himself out of the chair as well.
Remus cast Reducio upon the chair and the brooms, retrieving the miniatures from the grass and tucking them into his shirt pocket. He took hold of her hand then, and she leaned against him as they stood together and silently appreciated the view a final time. She watched as the slight breeze came up again and momentarily blurred the stars that danced on the pond’s surface.
“All right?” he asked softly, the boyish expression on his face enhanced by the wandlight. At her nod his grip tightened on her hand. “Hang on, then.”
Tonks felt the onset of Apparition and closed her eyes. She and Remus were crossing more than the inky black gap in time and space, it was the threshold between the past and the future. Their future.
* * *
A/N: The ‘age cannot wither, nor custom stale your infinite variety’ line that Remus uses is from Act II, Scene II of Shakespeare’s Anthony and Cleopatra.
...