HP -- A Little Wild
Title: A Little Wild
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Lupin/Tonks
Rating: PG
Word Count: 360
Warnings: vague suggestiveness; last-second, deadline-pushing writing/editing
Prompt: "Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make."
Summary: Waxing gibbous, looks like.
Author's Note: HAPPY NICK-OF-TIME HANUKKAH, missusjackson!! I lurve you muchly, and I hope this makes your day a little awesomer. ♥
A LITTLE WILD
It looks like it’ll snow.
It’s only threatening, though, for now, a smug assurance in the frost that spreads like cobwebs, starting in the corners of the windowpanes and creeping up and in. Clouds drift, sidling back and forth across the moon, like shreds of tattered curtains too thin to hide its glow. Maybe no snow after all-at least not yet.
Waxing gibbous, looks like. She knows this stuff now. She knows a lot of useful things.
She knows that she’s never letting go of him, this faded, soft-voiced man with his steady hands and his tired eyes. This man who always manages to look surprised when a wicked smile sneaks onto his face and makes itself at home; this man who always breaks off pieces of his chocolate and lays them on her tongue; this man who currently has both arms wrapped around her, his jaw just a little scratchy where it’s pressed against her cheek. She knows he’s hers, because she’ll beat the living shit out of anyone who disagrees.
The clouds cast shadows, and soon she hears the howls.
Remus’s shoulders tense.
Tonks smiles.
“Listen to them,” she intones in her best Bela Lugosi. “Children of the night…”
“Don’t start,” Remus mutters, though she hears the makings of a grin.
“Why not?” she asks, shifting to look at him with wide, innocent eyes.
He doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Things will get hairy.”
She actually snorts, and he doesn’t even call her out. Yes, she loves this man.
She reaches across and tugs at the top button of his shirt, the heel of her hand settling against the wool of a jumper long since worn soft.
“I like you a little furry,” she reports.
One of his eyebrows lifts, and she gives her grin a twist.
“I like you a little wild,” she says.
Remus has to hesitate.
“Sorry,” he says, “but-really?”
Tonks winks, fumbling for his hand and seizing it. “Let’s make some music, shall we?”
The other eyebrow rises, but he’s smiling now, with the mischief moving in just like the frost.
“If you call me ‘Tiger,’” he remarks, “I’m going to cry.”
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Lupin/Tonks
Rating: PG
Word Count: 360
Warnings: vague suggestiveness; last-second, deadline-pushing writing/editing
Prompt: "Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make."
Summary: Waxing gibbous, looks like.
Author's Note: HAPPY NICK-OF-TIME HANUKKAH, missusjackson!! I lurve you muchly, and I hope this makes your day a little awesomer. ♥
A LITTLE WILD
It looks like it’ll snow.
It’s only threatening, though, for now, a smug assurance in the frost that spreads like cobwebs, starting in the corners of the windowpanes and creeping up and in. Clouds drift, sidling back and forth across the moon, like shreds of tattered curtains too thin to hide its glow. Maybe no snow after all-at least not yet.
Waxing gibbous, looks like. She knows this stuff now. She knows a lot of useful things.
She knows that she’s never letting go of him, this faded, soft-voiced man with his steady hands and his tired eyes. This man who always manages to look surprised when a wicked smile sneaks onto his face and makes itself at home; this man who always breaks off pieces of his chocolate and lays them on her tongue; this man who currently has both arms wrapped around her, his jaw just a little scratchy where it’s pressed against her cheek. She knows he’s hers, because she’ll beat the living shit out of anyone who disagrees.
The clouds cast shadows, and soon she hears the howls.
Remus’s shoulders tense.
Tonks smiles.
“Listen to them,” she intones in her best Bela Lugosi. “Children of the night…”
“Don’t start,” Remus mutters, though she hears the makings of a grin.
“Why not?” she asks, shifting to look at him with wide, innocent eyes.
He doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Things will get hairy.”
She actually snorts, and he doesn’t even call her out. Yes, she loves this man.
She reaches across and tugs at the top button of his shirt, the heel of her hand settling against the wool of a jumper long since worn soft.
“I like you a little furry,” she reports.
One of his eyebrows lifts, and she gives her grin a twist.
“I like you a little wild,” she says.
Remus has to hesitate.
“Sorry,” he says, “but-really?”
Tonks winks, fumbling for his hand and seizing it. “Let’s make some music, shall we?”
The other eyebrow rises, but he’s smiling now, with the mischief moving in just like the frost.
“If you call me ‘Tiger,’” he remarks, “I’m going to cry.”