Title: Of Tequila and Dark Staircases
Author: Mucada
Rating: PG-13 for slight content and the use of alcohol
Dislaimer: all Jo's
Summary: We're going old school: set during OotP, and slightly AU by suggestion. Remus/Tonks; of Tequila and dark staircases. pointless and oneshot.
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"Tonks, could you go up and find my husband? I want him down here so I can keep an eye on him. Someone brought muggle drinks and well…" Molly Weasley was always one to fret, and when it came to her husband and his infatuation with everything muggle she was especially wary. Tonight was a gathering like any other. The Order was all there, to celebrate Harry's birthday, and another loud and rambunctious party was underway.
Tonks sighed and stood up. She was helping Molly in the kitchen, but really, all she was doing was sitting at the table, banished from cleaning dishes because of her clumsiness. She made her way to the stairs, opening the door and placing a hand against the wall so she wouldn't fall. There was no source of light except that at the top of the staircase, which opened up into the main source of the party. Loud noises, mostly drunken laughter drifted down as she made her way towards it.
She didn't make it very far, because somebody was blocking the light and, obviously unaware of her ascent, making their way down the stairs rather quickly and sloppily. There was no use really. She moved to the side, but the person crashed into her anyway.
"Tonks? Must be you, eh?" came a hoarse but happy voice, right in her face as the equally clumsy person leaned against her and pushed her to the wall. She saw something soft and light reflect on the man's chest with his slight movement. Oh how she knew him well.
"Why, Remus, I do believe it is you whom I am saving Molly's husband from," she replied, in a voice she didn't quite recognize. He let out a low chuckle and she felt herself shiver. When he turned slightly, he let more light into the staircase, and she could see him clearly when he backed away from her, although it wasn't necessary: she never had a hard time imagining him. As usual, a little rough around the edges, hair fallen in front of his eyes, with a shirt unbuttoned at the top. That's how she knew.
"Why does Arthur need saving, from…me?" he asked, swaying slightly and leaning against the opposite wall. With every passing second, she could see him slowly slipping farther down that wall, grin still on his face. Tonight, she was sure he had forgotten many things, like his frustrations and boundaries, and his stubborn mindset. Had he forgotten her? She had always feared he would.
"I imagine it has something to do with that," she replied, devilish grin matching his own. She nodded at the bottle in his hand, which glimmered in the light. Raising the bottle in mock toast, she watched as he slid farther down the wall, until he sat on the stairs. She found herself sitting a step above him.
He acted like they weren't sitting on the stairs in the dim light coming from upstairs. "This? No, Arthur never touched this. And Dung brought it all in, not me. I'm not responsible for anything."
"What is it, anyway?"
"Huh? I don't know, really," he replied, peering into the liquid and looking at it as if it just appeared in his hand, "Something called Tequila. It's not bad."
He held out the bottle suggestively, almost seductively, and she found her arm reaching out and taking it from him. Taking a sip, she grimaced, saying, "It's alright."
"It gets the job done," he replied, letting his head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. Really, she had never thought of Remus to be the type that got drunk with a group of people, especially at a teenager's 15th birthday party. But there he sat, long legs wrapped around hers, in the middle of the dark staircase, in the middle of the Order, in the middle of the war. What did it take for her to fall for him? Not that much, just a few glasses on Firewhiskey and the taste of foreign alcohol.
They sat like that for a while, and she was surprised no one came up or down the stairs. How long had it been? She stopped counting once the bottle was halfway finished. With each sip she felt herself grow more and more at ease with the man sitting quite close to her. She had forgotten how the bottle had touched his mouth and was touching hers, because she was sitting next to him, one step above, and he was looking up at her as they spoke (about what she had no idea) and the truth was, she never felt so good about anything. Everything was foggy in the background, and his laughter became huskier and sexier with each drink of Tequila. Once the bottle was finished, and that didn't take too long, she felt her mouth against his and her hand against the warm skin under his shirt. He whispered something she didn't make out, but she laughed against his mouth anyway.
And there was a click that sounded too loud, and a gasp. "Tonks!" came a surprised voice in the distance, from Molly at the bottom of the stairs. She seemed so far away.
"Arthur was fine," she blurted out, her hand still against Remus' chest.
"Okay dear," Tonks heard her say. When did they move from that spot? She didn't quite remember. However, she did remember waking up in Remus' bed late next morning, feeling like her head had split open on his pillow. She remembered her eyes hurting when the sun came in through the old curtains, and her confused state of mind doing her little good as she stared down at the naked, sleeping form pressed against her.
Every voice she could image being inside her head was screaming at her as she exited the room as quietly as she could. He had been farther gone than her, and he wouldn't remember her.
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"She saw something soft and light reflect on the man's chest with his slight movement..."-refers to Mercutio-rane's story Howlite. If you haven't read that, it's imperative that you do so, because her Remus is just as sexy as mine. ;)
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