She likes that he's taller than she is. Dora likes that he has very quick reflexes. As a very clumsy person, it could be very beneficial for her. He gives off the impression of a kicked puppy and Dora likes that too.
Suddenly, she reaches forward and grabs the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Dora is a fifteen and a half year old girl. Her hormones are getting the better of her. Overall, she's not completely terrible at snogging. She's had practice.
As much practice as she's had, however, Dora knows that as soon as she lets go Remus is going to run away. That's how it works with her.
And clearly has no practice whatsoever. But he really makes up for it in… well… actually seeming to care about her side of the experience.
This is a situation he had absolutely no preparation for, not even mentally, 'cause it's never happened and he's never contemplated the merest possibility of it happening.
(Someone spontaneously kissing him, that is. He's contemplated kissing, plenty. Just not this particular mode of initiation.)
If it was someone else, he probably would have recoiled, evading contact. But something about her… like it's okay to… okay to play, to explore; that's how she's behaving, he can too. Or like Sirius would-
-no, he's not trying to be like Sirius. She's in control of this, not him. He doesn't try to be.
But in some inexplicable way beyond his usual boundaries and ability to parse, this is… okay.
Dora enjoys the kiss. As hormonal as she is, her hands don't stray far into inappropriate grounds. She releases the hold she has on the front of his shirt. Her hands come to rest on his shoulders.
What? He's much taller than she is. She needs something to bring him down to her level.
After a few moments, Dora becomes aware that not only is he not running away, Remus is returning the kiss. This causes her to blink and finally tilt her head back. A great deal of uncertainty plays on her face.
"Why aren't you running away?" Her hands are still on his shoulders. "They always run away, usually in horror and usually very fast when I tell a boy that I fancy him. Why aren't you?"
He hasn't the nerve to put his arms around her-it doesn't feel like that kind of kiss anyway (new information: kisses have kinds? It's not the Lily fantasy is what it is. -n't.) -and definitely not follow her lead where hands are concerned. But his come to rest tentatively, eventually, on either side of her ribs. Almost immediately (if unrelatedly), she pulls away, and he pulls back his hands like a shot, as if he's cast the wrong spell.
The answer to her question on his face is quite clearly, I haven't the foggiest, faintest clue. He would have expected himself to… maybe not run away (not anymore; Sirius and James had broken him in too well for that) but evade initial contact. Why not indeed…?
He says, at last, not trying to be clever, just latching on to the one literal detail in reach: "Well, you haven't told me that. In those words."
"I don't have to tell boys that. They do that on their own." She's the clumsy girl, the best mate, the friend. Dora is just a few months away from coming into her own but at this stage, she's nervous and awkward.
Her hands are still on his shoulders. "Every boy that I like anyway..." Dora peers up at him. "You seem like you might be a bit different. I like different."
"I know." Her nose wrinkles up a bit. She knows she's different. The expression on her face is a mixture of uncertainty, almost embarrassment, and a touch of eagerness. "D'you like it?"
Dora hopes he does. It's weird. Even with boys that she did fancy, she is usually not so forward. However, she is usually not so forward. Maybe it's Anatole, maybe it's the mist, or maybe Dora is a just a hormonal teenager. It is hard to say.
"If I asked you to," and she is asking him, "Would you kiss me?"
May not be able to conjure the words himself, but won't leave her hanging with the direct question.
"Yeah," though he can't quite believe he's managing to say so, or figure out if he should, or whether anything's supposed to happen next, or cogitate much at all, "I like it."
This is quite clearly a boundary condition, moment of transition, a precipice of some kind, and he's increasingly unable to stay as is without feeling he has to do something, be blowed if he knows what. Is it unfortunate or intensely good that he doesn't have Sirius or James anywhere nearby to whisper instructions?
…Good. She's different. He's different too. Whatever's happening, they should do it their own way. If there is such a thing. For either of them.
For lack of knowing what else to do, he blushes.
"Didn't we test that already?"
(And wasn't I supposed to be tutoring… something…?)
Dora smiles. She likes that he likes it and her. There is the question of now that she knows he likes her, what does she do with him? He's a boy. She's a girl. Dora knows what she'd like to do but she's not sure that it's right. It could be but something about him tells her that she shouldn't rush so hard.
She shouldn't rush so hard and yet...
"I don't know if we tested it so much as I sprung it on you all of a sudden. Sorry about that. I'm not sure what came over me except that I like you."
Dora hasn't taken her hands off of shoulders. "You look good in pink by the way."
Suddenly something that James or Sirius would do does occur to him-in a way that can be his, not trying to manipulate, not imitating. But as a form of communication: a word in a language he's trying (with great urgency) to pick up.
Still a bit tentative, but faking decisiveness, he raises one of his hands from its useless limbo and touches her face. Two fingers brush into her hair and he, surprising himself, smiles. "You too."
Oh. So that's what that feels like. She can feel her stomach flip-flip and involuntarily, her hair shifts to a vibrant shade of pink. Dora had always seen blokes do that to girls. Never had one displayed that particular kind of affection for her.
This kiss is different. She is trying so hard to not let hormones and extreme eagerness take over. Dora's hands finally move off of his shoulders but they do not leave his body completely. They come to rest on his chest with her fingers just barely digging into the fabric of his shirt.
…Ironic that that's what causes his involuntary response to… respond.
He doesn't entirely notice at first-he has no intent of pushing this further, or indeed at all-but when at last he does, he pulls away in fear of her noticing.
In case she did, he oh so deftly offers the exit: "Do you still… erm… want my… help? With the… tutoring?"
Suddenly, she reaches forward and grabs the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Dora is a fifteen and a half year old girl. Her hormones are getting the better of her. Overall, she's not completely terrible at snogging. She's had practice.
As much practice as she's had, however, Dora knows that as soon as she lets go Remus is going to run away. That's how it works with her.
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This is a situation he had absolutely no preparation for, not even mentally, 'cause it's never happened and he's never contemplated the merest possibility of it happening.
(Someone spontaneously kissing him, that is. He's contemplated kissing, plenty. Just not this particular mode of initiation.)
If it was someone else, he probably would have recoiled, evading contact. But something about her… like it's okay to… okay to play, to explore; that's how she's behaving, he can too. Or like Sirius would-
-no, he's not trying to be like Sirius. She's in control of this, not him. He doesn't try to be.
But in some inexplicable way beyond his usual boundaries and ability to parse, this is… okay.
Even…
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What? He's much taller than she is. She needs something to bring him down to her level.
After a few moments, Dora becomes aware that not only is he not running away, Remus is returning the kiss. This causes her to blink and finally tilt her head back. A great deal of uncertainty plays on her face.
"Why aren't you running away?" Her hands are still on his shoulders. "They always run away, usually in horror and usually very fast when I tell a boy that I fancy him. Why aren't you?"
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The answer to her question on his face is quite clearly, I haven't the foggiest, faintest clue. He would have expected himself to… maybe not run away (not anymore; Sirius and James had broken him in too well for that) but evade initial contact. Why not indeed…?
He says, at last, not trying to be clever, just latching on to the one literal detail in reach: "Well, you haven't told me that. In those words."
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Sometimes they were mean without thinking about it, sometimes Dora was mean while thinking about it.
Her hands are still on his shoulders. "Every boy that I like anyway..." Dora peers up at him. "You seem like you might be a bit different. I like different."
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His words fail him on the next bit, but it does seem to be the look on his face: I might like that too.
Words would of course be better. At least he's (still) not pulling away.
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Dora hopes he does. It's weird. Even with boys that she did fancy, she is usually not so forward. However, she is usually not so forward. Maybe it's Anatole, maybe it's the mist, or maybe Dora is a just a hormonal teenager. It is hard to say.
"If I asked you to," and she is asking him, "Would you kiss me?"
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"Yeah," though he can't quite believe he's managing to say so, or figure out if he should, or whether anything's supposed to happen next, or cogitate much at all, "I like it."
This is quite clearly a boundary condition, moment of transition, a precipice of some kind, and he's increasingly unable to stay as is without feeling he has to do something, be blowed if he knows what. Is it unfortunate or intensely good that he doesn't have Sirius or James anywhere nearby to whisper instructions?
…Good. She's different. He's different too. Whatever's happening, they should do it their own way. If there is such a thing. For either of them.
For lack of knowing what else to do, he blushes.
"Didn't we test that already?"
(And wasn't I supposed to be tutoring… something…?)
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She shouldn't rush so hard and yet...
"I don't know if we tested it so much as I sprung it on you all of a sudden. Sorry about that. I'm not sure what came over me except that I like you."
Dora hasn't taken her hands off of shoulders. "You look good in pink by the way."
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Still a bit tentative, but faking decisiveness, he raises one of his hands from its useless limbo and touches her face. Two fingers brush into her hair and he, surprising himself, smiles. "You too."
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It's enough that she's momentarily speechless.
"I... Could you do that again?"
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(Sirius, James, Peter, and indeed Remus all drop their jaws on the floor and yell Impulse?? Suave??? HIM?!?!?)
-he kisses her.
Lips again. Very lightly.
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This kiss is different. She is trying so hard to not let hormones and extreme eagerness take over. Dora's hands finally move off of his shoulders but they do not leave his body completely. They come to rest on his chest with her fingers just barely digging into the fabric of his shirt.
This is nice.
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…Ironic that that's what causes his involuntary response to… respond.
He doesn't entirely notice at first-he has no intent of pushing this further, or indeed at all-but when at last he does, he pulls away in fear of her noticing.
In case she did, he oh so deftly offers the exit: "Do you still… erm… want my… help? With the… tutoring?"
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