Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, ergo, anything you recognise is hers and not mine.
A/N: This is a pre-DoM outtake from Over The Moon, which I wrote as a Christmas present for Godricgal. Enjoy!
"Are you hungry?"
Tonks was curled up on the sofa with her head in Remus' lap, her obscenely large boots resting on what was once a no doubt very expensive cushion. She'd been there since she got back from work, claiming that it had been a rough day and that all she wanted to do was curl up and wait for the world to go away, and so he'd abandoned the book he'd been reading and asked if she wanted to talk about it, but she'd murmured a no and buried her face in his thigh, and so he'd decided not to press it, just letting her rest instead, enjoying the comforting warmth of her cheek on his leg, marvelling at the thought that he was the kind of person a girl like Tonks would want to curl up with on the sofa.
They'd been there for more than an hour, he thought, with nothing but the sound of her irregular breathing to disturb them, and the sounds of her shifting against him as she tried to find the most comfy position for her arms on or around his legs.
At his question she stirred a little, and he threaded his fingers into her hair, loving the way it felt beneath his fingers, and marvelling that his pale skin looked nearly as good against her pink hair as hers did.
Tonks murmured something that sounded entirely non-committal in answer to his question, and he let out a soft breath of laughter. "Was that a yes?" he said.
"M'warm," she murmured.
"Yes?"
"N'comfy," she mumbled, turning her head a little more into his thigh. She raised a sleepy hand to her forehead and ran it lightly over her face, seeming to wake up a little as she did. "You have very comfy legs," she said.
"I thought it was my shoulders you found most pleasing in that respect?" he said, and she laughed drowsily.
"You're comfy all over."
"Well I suppose every man must have his uses," he said. "Seems mine is as a pillow."
She laughed softly, and he traced the outline of her ear with the very tips of his fingers, making her squirm just slightly under his touch. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said. "I just thought after a long day you might be ready for something to eat."
"Wasn't sleeping," she said, stifling a yawn. "Not really."
"So the snoring was just a figment of my imagination, then?" he said, and she laughed, poking him admonishingly in the thigh.
"I don't snore."
He smiled to himself and went back to toying with her hair as she settled back against his leg. "I don't mind cooking," he said. "I could make that spaghetti thing we had last week."
" S'my turn," she said.
"I know," he replied. "But I don't mind. You've had a long day."
"You have too," she said.
"Hmm," he murmured. "Poring over those papers was every bit as gruelling as chasing suspected Dark Wizards up and down the country."
He slid his fingers through her hair once more, before letting his hand rest on her shoulder. "I know what your game is," she said, and Remus made a note of startled question. "You're racking up meals I haven't cooked, and then come Christmas, you'll tell me I owe you and your whole family a twelve course banquet."
Remus sniggered quietly, tracing the stitching on the seam of her shirt with his fingers while he considered what she'd said. Christmas was months away – and yet, even though she'd been joking, she was thinking that far ahead. "Do you think about that much?" he murmured, watching her reaction closely.
"What? What a git you are, and that that's just the kind of stunt you'd pull?"
He let out another soft breath of laughter, his fingers slowing their pace a little on her sleeve. "I meant Christmas," he said quietly. "The future."
Underneath his fingers, he felt Tonks stiffen a little, and she opened her eyes and sat up, meeting his gaze and then nudging his shoulder with hers. "If I say yes, are you going to get all blokey about it?" she said, raising an eyebrow at him in question. He couldn't resist a small titter. He looked away, fearing that meeting her eyes would cause him to guffaw.
"Probably," he said, and when she laughed, he looked up, met her gaze evenly. "Tell me anyway," he said, nudging her shoulder encouragingly with his.
Tonks pressed her lips together, folding her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes searching his for some answer he couldn't quite fathom.
And he didn't know what it was, but the air crackled.
He hadn't known it was a question he needed answering – but now he'd asked it, the whole world and his place in it seemed to hang in the balance, as if everything could change depending on her answer. He held his breath, his heart quicken its pace in his chest.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"What do you think about?" he said softly, not really knowing why his heart was pounding so vociferously.
"Honestly?" she asked, and he nodded, smiled at her reassuringly. She glanced down, and her fingers tightened around each other, her lips pressing together more insistently.
After a moment's hesitation, she answered. "You," she whispered. "Us."
Remus' heart skipped a beat, and then the one after that, too, but then he let his hand drift up to her face, and gently tilted it back up to his. "Good," he said, barely able to get the word out around the lump in his throat. "Me too."
"Really?" she said, her eyes widening a little at the thought. He looked down sniggering, and then met her eye, raising an eyebrow. She grinned, her eyes lighting up in recognition of what he was about to say. "Don't you even think about saying no," she said, her eyes shining, half-laughing at their private joke, and half doing something that made his insides shiver.
"Ok," he said, biting back a grin. He swallowed, gently scuffed her cheek with his thumb, meeting her eye to make sure that she knew he was utterly sincere. "It means a lot to me," he said, "that you think about the future as something with me in it."
He felt as well as saw her smile and drew her closer, letting his eyes rove her face, marvel as he took in all the tiny sensations of having her close – her breath on his face, the way he could make out that every twinkle in her dark eyes was actually tiny flecks of silver – before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She sighed, and he delighted in that as much as the action itself, and when she eased closer and pressed her lips more insistently to his, he kissed her properly, his whole body tingling with excitement and nerves and anticipation, as if this was the very first time they'd done it.
She pulled away, meeting his eye with a twinkling, cheeky expression that he knew she knew he always found irresistible. "Hungry?" she asked.
"Mmm," he murmured, pulling her back to him, sliding his hands down her body so he could lower her back against the sofa, "but not for food."
A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviewers get a werewolf of their very own to take care of them in whatever way they see fit after a long day at work ;).