Author's note: This story contains scenes that are sexually explicit with strong language. The sexual element is crucial to my storyline, but there's also plot, snappy dialogue, magical mayhem, sarky Sirius, sarkier Severus—what's not to love? However, if you would absolutely hate the occasional graphic sex scene, you should probably leave now. --sadly waves goodbye--

Thanks to melusin for the Brit-picking and encouragement.

MarauderLoverN10: I rewrote this chapter with you in mind. Thank you for your kind words. :)

Had We Never Loved So Blindly

Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met—or never parted—
We had ne'er been broken hearted

- Robert Burns

Chapter 1

The subject first came up in bed. And that in itself was odd, when she came to think about it later, because it was a place where they rarely conversed. Chatting was for the library with its musty books on Dark Magic, for supper in the kitchen with Order comrades, or for their solitary rambles through Muggle London; the bedroom was for bodies, not for minds: for sleeping, and also for touching, sucking, stroking, thrusting, biting, fucking, and—when it was close to the full moon, as it was that night—for more fucking.

That night, Remus and Tonks lay in a boneless heap amid sticky, tangled sheets. A faint breeze came from the open window, ruffling the mildewed curtains and playing over their flushed, sweaty skin. When the air turned chill against the damp hair at her neck, Tonks shivered and sat up with a sleepy grumble to locate the duvet. The bed creaked as Remus shifted behind her; he always seemed to be restless under the waxing moon as if the moon plucked at his skin until it became too hot and tight to contain him.

She finally found the bedcovers piled in a heap on the dusty floor and yanked them back up onto the bed, resigned to the idea that they'd be on the ground again before morning. In contrast to his daytime calm, Remus was a fretful, unquiet sleeper, muttering and thrashing his way through the night as if it were a dense thicket that had to be hacked through in order to reach the dawn. By morning, the sheets would be bunched under him, or wound around an ankle, and the duvet would be on the floor collecting dust or—given the nature of this house—something worse.

As Tonks smoothed the sheets, the moon emerged from behind a cloud and filled the room with its radiance. The furniture took on a pearly sheen quite out of keeping with its station, a former servant's bedroom at the top of Grimmauld Place. In the revealing glow, Tonks cast an appreciative eye over her lover's lean body, painted pale and smooth by the moonlight. She delighted in his lanky frame as it stretched from one end of the bed to the other: broad shoulders tapering to a flat hard belly, narrow hips, long legs. Unclothed, he appeared younger and rather more fit than the grey in his deep gold hair suggested.

She ran a hand lightly over his abdomen, tracing the thick ridge of scar tissue below his shoulder, moving down to his ribs, and then to the line of hair that led lower. His lovely cock stirred in its nest of wiry curls as if it felt the silvery touch of the moon. She looked up into his face through her lashes, half expecting him to reach for her yet again, but Remus was staring into space, the ghost of a frown on his lips and a telltale wrinkle between his eyebrows.

She wondered what he was thinking. Something she'd done quite a lot of in the three months since they'd started sleeping together. His look of worry wasn't new, although she'd never before seen it in bed. In the early days of their relationship, she'd often asked what was on his mind, making her curiosity a bit of a joke each time, to let her skittish new boyfriend know that she wasn't pressing him for confidences he wasn't ready to give. And invariably, Remus would brush her off, politely, but no less firmly for that.

So, after a time, she'd stopped asking and tried not to feel hurt by the exclusion, although occasionally—in truth, often—she was. She reasoned to herself that Remus was a private man, so private that it bordered on obsession. But she'd been aware of this aspect of Remus for almost as long as she'd known the man, so how could he be blamed? And it wasn't as if it was directed solely at her; he kept everyone at a distance, except possibly his oldest friend, Sirius. Those two communicated by a subtle code that defied Tonks's best attempts to unravel it. In the end, Tonks knew, without knowing quite how, that the biggest mistake she could make with Remus would be to try too hard to get closer to him. Remus could, and would, drift out of her tenuous hold just as effortlessly as he'd drifted in. So she kept as much emotional distance as she was able, hoping he'd gradually open up to her.

Remus had propped himself half-sitting against the pillows on the headboard, arms crossed behind his head. Tonks lay down and nestled against him, pulling the duvet up to her chin against the predawn chill. She breathed in his musky male scent, which she always found to be, paradoxically, both comforting and arousing. Her fingers continued to play along the taut muscles of his stomach—her hands couldn't seem to resist his body, even when the rest of her was sated. Remus didn't respond to her touch, and after a few minutes, she looked up again to see him still deep in thought. She wrapped an arm around his waist and, breaking what was by now an unwritten rule, murmured into his chest, "Remus... Will you— Can you tell me what's troubling you? Is it—" she tried to sound nonchalant over the tightness in her throat. "Is it me?"

And in the silence that followed, she imagined her words like pebbles dropped into a still pool, spreading soft ripples into the darkness. Then she felt him draw in a breath and pause, as if readying one of his customary non-responses ("Oh, just wondering how Buckbeak's getting along. I thought I might've heard him." "Now what could be worrying me when I've got a naked witch in my bed?" "Hm? Nothing important. I've forgotten already. See?"). But instead, he draped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her tightly against him so that her head lay pressed to his heart. She listened to its steady beat and felt his chest rise and fall with each breath. For a long time, he didn't speak, and she wondered if this was simply a new way of putting her off. But then he said quietly, "No, never you, Dora. It's Sirius. I'm... I can't stop thinking about him."

And even now, even as she felt inordinately happy at this tiny break in his shell, her first impulse was to make a wisecrack, maybe in mock affront that her bloke was mooning over another man whilst in bed with her. But she kept silent, counting the slow thumps of his heart and hoping he'd say more. Instead, Remus slid down to lie alongside her face to face, their bodies touching along their entire length. Cupping the back of her head with his hand, he drew her to him, and they kissed.

The next few minutes were spent in gently exploring each other's lips, tasting, nibbling, sucking, sharing warm breath. Tonks could feel one of Remus's hands behind her, stroking the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck while his other hand rested possessively on her thigh. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the places where their bodies were in contact, feeling her skin come alive everywhere they touched. When she opened them again, Remus's amber eyes were glimmering inches from her own. He ran one long-fingered hand up her thigh to rest lightly on her hip. Toying with her hip bone, he whispered. "Every day, he seems more unstable. More... moody and unpredictable."

Tonks's breathing was slightly unsteady now, and her mind had to scramble to remember who Remus was talking about. Sirius. Right. Tonks tried to process what Remus was telling her, to find a way to encourage him, subtly, to keep talking—because wasn't this what she'd been wanting?—but his hands were roaming over her legs and back in slow, deliberate movements that were making it impossible for her to think. What she really wanted was to rub herself against his hard body, to wrap her legs around him, and—

She felt him sigh into her ear. "It would be so very like him to do something stupid." Remus kissed a line along her neck, teeth scraping along the soft skin.

A moan escaped her, and she replied a little breathlessly, "Ah. Um. Stupider than usual, d'you mean?" There. She'd done it. Played it for a bit of a laugh, even though she'd meant not to. She waited for him to huff and smile and say, "Yes, you're right. It's ridiculous, isn't it, love?" and redirect their interactions towards more... physical pursuits. But this time, he didn't walk out through the open door she'd left for him.

His mouth still at her neck, he ran a hot, wet tongue along her jaw. When he sucked hard just below her ear, her body responded with an erotic shiver, and she felt the heat kindle between her legs. Sex with Remus usually fell on either end of a spectrum: sometimes fast and urgent, sometimes a slow teasing build-up. Each of them sparked a different sort of intensity, and it appeared that this time Remus was in no hurry. He took his mouth from her skin long enough to murmur, "I suppose 'dangerous and impulsive' would be better words than 'stupid'. He isn't stupid. Far from it."

Tonks almost laughed that Remus could still deliberate over the best choice of words to use to describe his troubled friend while she was having trouble thinking of anything but him sliding into her, thrusting deep, filling her. She felt the delicious, throbbing ache at her core grow at the thought.

Remus pulled his face away from her slightly, chewing his lower lip in that maddening way he had that made her want to bite it for him. "Dora, he isn't used to being alone with time on his hands. He wants— I know him, you see, I- I know him so well, even after all those years apart. He wants—" Remus stopped, apparently trying to marshal his thoughts. Tonks dipped her head to bite gently at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, relishing the answering rumble from deep in Remus's throat. Finally, he said, "Part of it is that he's jealous of me. Of us. He doesn't want to be, but he is. And that only makes it worse for him. Every day that he spends shut up in this house, he's forced to see me getting everything that he wants."

Tonks opened her mouth in surprise, but before she could speak, Remus was kissing down her neck, his hot mouth making his way to her shoulders and then to her breasts. She tangled one hand into his hair when he reached her erect nipples and lapped at them, first one and then the other. The pleasure from his tongue on her quickly became almost too intense, too overwhelming. She was growing lightheaded with desire, but she wanted to say something. If there was enough blood left in her brain for it to supply the words.

With an effort, Tonks wriggled away from Remus's mouth, and he lifted his face to her. She managed to say, "What are you— Are you suggesting that Sirius wants to get into my knickers, and he's going to do something drastic because you're getting into them instead?"

"No. Yes. No, I mean. Not exactly." The wrinkle between his eyebrows cleared, and Remus's lips twitched for a moment before becoming more serious. He drew her in for another gentle kiss, gazing down at her face as he traced a warm thumb along her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste the faint tang of salt in its wake. As she licked the tip of his thumb, Remus let out a low growl that seemed to flow through her entire body, settling in a pool of wet heat between her legs.

Remus lifted his thumb to his own mouth and sucked it thoughtfully. Tonks stared, panting slightly at the sight. It was almost embarrassing, really, how he did this to her every time. Taking his thumb from his mouth, he brought it down between her breasts and drew a damp line down her chest, and then lower between her ribs. He pushed her firmly onto her back and, under the duvet, his hand moved lower, down her belly. At her navel, his thumb stopped to trace a circle around the soft skin there, creating an answering tingle in her nerves that felt almost magical.

"There's something you need to understand about him, Dora." And Tonks came close to whining in frustration. There was something she needed, all right, but it wasn't to understand Sirius. Tonks fought down an urge to grab Remus and suck his tongue into her mouth to shut him up. Talking is what you wanted, she reminded herself. She just hadn't anticipated that he'd ever become so confiding right in the middle of foreplay, for God's sake.

Oblivious of her frustrated state, and continuing to trace a pattern on her belly with his thumb, Remus went on, "He doesn't look it now, but he's always been a- a ladies' man, I suppose you'd call him. Back then, in the first war, he invariably had a woman. Or two. The rest of us— Well. Sometimes we got lucky. Sometimes not. More often not." He let out a silent puff of amusement. "But Sirius was... It was simply part of who he was. If you could have seen him then, you'd know what I'm trying to say. Picture it: Cast off scion of a rich old family. Founding member of the Order of the Phoenix. Dashing into danger at a moment's notice, and coming home with a few new curse scars and another war story to tell. And always, always a beautiful, willing woman warming his bed, eager to spread her legs for him."

At Remus's last words, Tonks felt his erection pulse against her thigh. She smiled into his chest. "Hm. Is that what he's jealous of, then? The way I spread my legs to welcome my hero home from battle?" She lowered her voice to a sexy purr and asked again, "Is that what I do for you?"

She looked up into his face. Remus's eyes had darkened to reflect the desire that his body had already revealed. Now, in one unhurried movement, he pulled off the duvet to reveal her nude body. She shivered as he pressed her back into the mattress, his eyes raking over her exposed flesh. Moving his mouth to hers, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue slid against hers and then pushed deeper into her mouth, claiming her, intensifying their connection until her body felt as if it were full of liquid fire.

Remus broke their kiss but kept his face against hers, their lips barely touching. "Yes. Yes, you do that for me," he said in a husky whisper, "among other things."

God, but she loved the night before a full moon. She moved her hand between them, running feather light fingers along his rigid length. At her touch, she saw hunger burning in the golden depths of his eyes, and her body answered with a sudden ache for him that was almost unbearable.

She said, with effort, "Um... Remus, listen. Sirius was in Azkaban for years. You say how difficult it is for him to be alone now, but... He was alone in prison, yeah? He had years to learn to deal with it. And did deal with it, by all accounts, remarkably well. And..." She gasped as Remus brought a hand to her breast to tease her taut nipple. She arched into his hand and then swallowed a groan and went on breathily, "Sirius is with us, Remus. With all of us. He isn't alone anymore. We won't let him do anything stupid."

"Mm," he replied, if it was meant to be a reply at all, rather than a reflection of how he felt about his hand roaming over her breasts. Remus's mouth renewed its exploration of her body, sucking and biting at her neck, her shoulders, her ears, her jaw. He stopped now and then to blow cool air against the reddened skin he left in his wake.

She couldn't believe how easily he could turn her on. Her fingers tightened on his cock, and he began to rock his hips, moving hard and ready through her soft fingers. He let out a low groan that sent shivers down her spine. God, she wanted him. He lowered his head to her breasts, replacing his hands with his mouth, and began again to lick and nibble her erect nipples. When he turned his cheek to rub its roughness against those sensitive nubs, she sucked in her breath at the exquisite sensation of pleasure mixed with pain.

Remus's eyes glinted at her reaction. Reaching for her wrists, he pulled them sharply up over her head, pinning her arms there without effort in one strong hand.

This aggressive lovemaking had been a revelation to her; something she wouldn't have predicted before their relationship began. She had never thought of herself as particularly submissive, or that she would be turned on by anything remotely rough or painful, but domination seemed to come naturally to Remus. His need to be in complete control was the driving force in their sexual acts, especially this close to the full moon. And no man had ever made her feel this way before.

As ever, Remus led her along step by step, from the first brush of their lips to the final push over the edge. He took his pleasure from her at whatever pace he chose, and Tonks marvelled again at how fresh and exciting it was for her to relinquish control and give herself up to him. Moving his mouth from her breasts, he nipped and licked his way up to her lips, capturing them in another hard kiss—this time fucking her mouth with his tongue as his hips moved in tandem. She could feel his cock sliding warm and thick against her hip, and instinctively she tried to twist so she could wrap her legs around him.

But of course Remus wasn't allowing that kind of initiative on her part, not at this time of the month. With one hand, he continued to hold her arms immobile while the other reached down between her legs, pushing her thighs apart. She was already swollen and sensitive from their earlier lovemaking, and as his fingers began to stroke and tease her, she moaned. "Merlin, Remus. Please..." But Remus kept to his tormenting pace, caressing, circling, dipping in tiny thrusts.

Just when Tonks thought she might fly apart from the sensations Remus was causing in her, he leaned close to her ear and told her, "Open your legs for me, love."

She was almost delirious with arousal and sensation, gasping and uttering incoherent little mews. She spread her legs wide, exposing her sex to him, her body arching under his fingers in desperate supplication.

Remus was panting himself, now, his cock pressing itself into her hip like a hot brand. Suddenly, he pushed two, and then three, stiff fingers into her wet slit. Pumping them slowly, he passed his thumb very lightly over her clit. She cried out, bucking so hard her arms yanked against the hand that pinned them, and he tightened his grip on her.

"Is this what you want?" he asked hoarsely.

"Ohgodohyesremus," she breathed, almost sobbing.

His fingers sped up their thrusting and then, agonisingly, slowed down, occasionally brushing her engorged nub. He kept up this tantalising cycle for what seemed like an endless age until she was a quivering mass of need and want. Tonks began to lose herself; she felt as if she were dissolving, as if only his fingers inside her anchored her to the world and kept her from disappearing entirely. All she could do was arch, and feel, and be. She wondered if she might die from the intensity of this plateau he kept her on.

"Do you want to come, Dora?" Remus asked in a ragged whisper.

Nothing was left of her but tingling nerves and shameless desperation, and she whimpered and moaned in answer, finally managing to draw in enough breath to whisper, "Please."

But he wasn't done drawing out his pleasure. He breathed into her ear, "Is there anything you wouldn't do for me, Dora?"

Again, she worked to draw breath and answered, "No, Remus. A-Anything. Ohpleaseohplease."

Remus's need for her was evident as he rubbed the slippery tip of his erection over her hip. In his growing excitement, his hand squeezed her wrists. The delicate bones pressed together, causing sharp needles of pain that seemed to travel straight down to her core. She bucked against his fingers, and his thumb ground down roughly over her swollen clit. Her brain felt as if it were exploding behind her eyes, and she cried out, calling his name as her back arched off the bed again and again, dizzying spasms of ecstasy wracking her body.

As she lay quivering, spent, and gasping, Remus pulled his fingers from her and brought them to his lips, closing his eyes briefly as he savoured her taste. Then, he pushed her pliant body onto her stomach and jerked up her hips with a rough urgency, so that she was on hands and knees.

Growling deep in his throat, he covered her with his own body, and Tonks felt his heat against her back and his breath on her neck. Remus bit down against the nape of her neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to be an emphatic signal of his dominance. Lowering her head and raising her arse, she submitted to him eagerly, relishing both the pain and indescribable delight that were coming. As the moonbeams fell on their crouching bodies, he rammed his thick length into her from behind, showing an aggression that was never seen outside the bedroom.

At this time of the month, Remus was almost insatiable, and he always took her roughly from the back, like an animal, grunting harshly with each massive thrust. As with so many other things, it wasn't something they discussed, but after three months, she was familiar with his cyclical behaviour.

Remus slammed into her again and again, his heavy balls swinging against her sex, as instinct drove him. The headboard was crashing into the wall with each thrust, making the peculiar swallowed thump of a good Silencing Charm. As his pace increased, it seemed to her as if Remus were driving his own pleasure far into her body. She cried out at the intensity of this deep penetration.

Truthfully, it hurt enough that she saw stars each time he pounded against her cervix. Merlin, he was big, and so hard. How could it not hurt? But the pain was overlaid with a primal satisfaction she'd never known with any other lover. The pain seemed to take her to another level of feeling, until she was floating above herself in a state of fulfilment and indescribable euphoria. To submit completely to him as he took her this way was intoxicating, so she fisted the sheets and bit into the pillow to muffle her cries.

He fucked her relentlessly until he was at the edge of his endurance, his body slicked with sweat, while she floated in a space where nothing existed except his cock and her cunt. Finally, his thrusts became erratic and bordering on brutal as he pulled her hips back into him with a bruising grip. She stifled a scream as he slammed in as far as his considerable length would allow, and at last she felt him pulsing, his hot seed filling her to overflowing, as he cried out in completion. His spent body crumpled onto hers, pressing her down into the mattress, and she felt his release running down her thigh.

After a moment, he rolled silently to her side, and they both drifted towards sleep as the moon set in the deep blue sky of dawn.

All thought of Sirius, of their earlier conversation, and indeed of anything, had emptied from her mind. But the last thing Tonks heard before sleep claimed her was Remus's hoarse whisper.

"Someone like Sirius wasn't meant to be shut up. He needs to feel like a man. He needs to be a man."

(continued in chapter 2)

Author's note: --Wipes brow-- whew! So, I never thought I'd ever write something like that, I gotta tell ya. But there it is, smut, in the very first chapter of my very first story. Most of the chapters won't be like this, for better or worse LOL.

Coming up next: Tonks's patience is tried, and Sirius is (momentarily) mystified. However, before going to the next chapter, why not click that little button down there and tell me if you enjoyed this chapter?