A/N Why yes, welcome to the second part of "I'm putting aside everything else I'm currently writing to publish this PWP instead." But still - it's been fun to write :) thoughts and comments welcome, and I hope you are well! And again - please heed the warning for this fic.
Remus Lupin had a problem.
He was tempted to say that the problem had only really arisen tonight, but if he was being honest with himself, he'd had this problem for awhile. It was just a matter of when it would come back to bite him, so to speak.
This problem in particular had been wearing her hair its usual pink throughout that night's meeting, a color which Remus had secretly come to look forward to seeing most days, though Remus could have sworn that the tips of her hair briefly flared red when he had met her gaze at one point during the meeting, accompanied by the faintest tinge of red staining her cheeks. He knew it was likely due to her worrying about being caught out at not paying attention by Mad-Eye, but part of him wondered if that was the only reason. She'd seemed rather flustered after they'd adjourned, too, when he'd asked her if she was staying the night. It wasn't like her to trip over her words; they'd spent many missions together at this point, let alone countless nights of tea or firewhiskey in the Grimmauld library, both with and without Sirius; she always had some joke to tell, something to talk about, some story to share. Remus found it fascinating, her constant stream of chatter; he didn't mind, he'd always been more of a listener anyway. And even more fascinating was the fact that she'd want to spend her free time sharing her thoughts with him, of all people, when she could be out there spending her evenings talking to anyone else.
And, a small, bitter part of his brain reminded him, all of their late-night conversations gave him an excuse to look directly at her face without feeling quite like the lecherous older friend of her cousin that she'd likely think he was if she knew the thoughts he'd been having about her lately. Thoughts that up until tonight, he had mostly managed to convince himself were innocent feelings of friendship and strong admiration.
And speaking of her cousin, he certainly hadn't helped this problem. Not with what he'd told Remus nearly the second after Tonks had excused herself to bed for the night.
"She wants to shag you, by the way. In case you weren't aware."
Remus stopped scrubbing the plate he'd been holding, both hands still submerged in the soapy water. "Excuse me?"
"Tonks, that is. I dunno, maybe Hestia does too, honestly, the way she was giggling at you over dinner, though I guess Hestia giggles at everyone, doesn't she?" Remus kept his back turned to Sirius, and he heard a splash of liquid as he poured himself a drink. "Firewhiskey, Moony?"
"I - er, I'm alright, thanks. I'll likely turn in once I'm done cleaning up." Remus resumed soaping up the dish in his hands, albeit a lot slower now. He heard a clink of glass as Sirius stoppered the decanter, but he didn't turn around just yet. He was still processing the words Sirius had said, and he didn't want his friend to see his face while he did so. He could feel his ears reddening, and he was sure that was incriminating enough. "What - what on earth do you mean?"
"Last I checked you speak English, yeah?" Remus sighed, drying the plate and setting it on the drainboard before turning around, carefully schooling his features into a neutral expression as he met Sirius' smug gaze. "Tonks wants to shag you. Not quite sure there's any hidden meaning there."
"That's - don't say that."
"What do you mean, don't say that? Did you see the way she was staring at you all meeting? I thought she was going to burst into flames every time you spoke. Anyway, don't be a clod, I know you fancy her. This is good news, don't look at me like I've just thrown up on your shoes."
Remus closed his eyes, leaning back against the counter heavily. "I do not -"
"Oh, come off it," Sirius replied. "Don't you dare tell me you don't fancy her. I've seen the way you look at her, I've noticed you two staying up together after I've gone to bed to 'chat.' It's bloody obvious, mate. And she's gagging for you, so why don't you go up there, see if she's still awake, and -"
"That's enough, Sirius," Remus managed through gritted teeth. "There's not - I'm not - don't be ridiculous. I don't fancy her. And she certainly does not want to - erm - to do...whatever you think you noticed, you didn't. It's not there." But Remus could tell from the smug grin on Sirius' face that it was too late; his reaction had given it away.
"Whatever you say," he replied nonchalantly, taking a swig of his whiskey.
Remus excused himself to bed, trying to ignore that shit-eating grin of his old friend as he positively fled from the kitchen and up to his room. He also tried to ignore the thoughts that were flooding his mind now after Sirius' revelation.
Tonks couldn't - there was no way she'd actually be interested in him, was there? He had noticed that she'd been touching him a lot more often as of late; nothing of note, just a hand on the arm here, a knee brushing against his there. All very innocent, small touches - but touches he nonetheless noticed because most people went out of their way not to touch him, while it sometimes almost seemed as if Tonks were doing it on purpose. But that was just how she was; she was so friendly to everybody.
And then there was the way she'd been more prone to getting flustered lately. He'd never thought of her as one to blush; whenever he helped her up from the floor after a trip and a fall, she would laugh it off, spouting off some joke about her two left feet while brushing off her robes. And so it'd been notable that one of the last times she'd tripped, as he'd helped her up, she'd blushed and averted his gaze as she mumbled a quick thank you, her hands resting on his forearms for just a second longer before she'd stumbled backwards so quickly he thought he'd have to attempt to catch her again.
None of it mattered, anyway. He hated to admit that Sirius was right, and that he supposed he did fancy her; how could he not? She was kind, funny, whip-smart, colorful, beautiful. But he'd been doing his best to suppress those feelings lately, as nothing good would come of Tonks figuring out that her 35-year-old werewolf colleague-come-friend was lusting after her. It was always harder at night, however; laying alone in his bed, his mind occasionally wandered off and he would catch himself thinking about what it would feel like to kiss her, to run his hands over her curves and to hear her softly sigh his name in response, before he would immediately and firmly try thinking of literally anything else before that train of thought went too far. Thinking of Severus sneering at him usually did the trick, truth-be-told.
Remus interrupted his own musings as he reached the landing, quietly opening his door and slipping into his room to get ready for bed and trying not think about the fact that Tonks was in the room next to him. He'd only just laid down, extinguishing the light, when he suddenly heard what sounded like a moan as he tried to get comfortable against the pillows.
He froze. That couldn't have actually been what it sounded like, could it? Maybe it was the ghoul in the upstairs toilet banging around again. But then he heard it again. Definitely a moan, this time, and clearly coming from the room next to him.
He felt his pulse quicken as he heard a clatter on the other side of the wall - the sound of a wand being dropped? But then -
Oh, Merlin.
When he and Sirius had begun preparing the house to host the Order, they'd made many, many discoveries - mostly unpleasant - about the home in which Sirius had grown up. One of which was the fact that not all of the rooms were quite as susceptible to certain charms as they should be. Walburga's desire for total control, Sirius had explained drily, when they found that privacy charms, for example, were spotty - at best - when cast on certain rooms. Not an issue they had really foreseen ever being a real problem, however. And it also wasn't too much of an issue that half the rooms in the house were still semi-uninhabitable and while they attempted to make them slightly less ominous, Tonks had taken the room directly next to his whenever she crashed for the night.
All of this was now most definitely a problem, as Remus was almost certain that Tonks was pleasuring herself on the other side of the wall and he could basically hear it.
He froze for only a moment, before he instantaneously felt a knot of arousal materialize deep in his belly. He reached frantically for a pillow, clamping it over his face in order to dampen the sounds. Don't listen. Do NOT listen. He tried to ignore how quickly he had become hard. This wouldn't do to listen to his friend - his best mate's younger cousin - masturbating late at night when she thought she had privacy.
That last thought inspired a sudden idea in Remus' brain. "You're a wizard, you idiot," he muttered to himself, throwing the pillow aside and reaching for his own wand and casting a muffling charm. He laid back against the pillows, ears straining as he tried to determine whether or not the charm held. He exhaled in relief for only a second before he realized that the charm had not, in fact, held. Groaning softly, he pulled the pillow back over his face, trying again to ignore his rather painful erection. He felt his face flush in equal parts arousal and shame as unbidden images began to pop into his mind.
Tonks, breathless and sprawled in his bed, sheets tangled around her bare legs. Tonks, those same bare legs wrapped around his waist, tangling her hands in his hair and writhing beneath him as he - no. He swallowed, frantically trying to push these images out of his mind. He scrambled to sit up against the headboard as he debated what to do. He couldn't very well knock, could he? Then she'd know he'd been listening. Not that he was listening on purpose - he really was doing his very best not to listen, but it was just so difficult as her moans were getting slightly louder and it was becoming harder and harder not to imagine in graphic detail exactly what was happening maybe fifteen feet from him at this very moment.
He slumped back down, pulling the pillow against his face yet again, as if it were going to magically become more useful the third time around. Despite his best efforts, another brief image of Tonks flashed through his mind; in his bed again, moaning, her head thrown back in pleasure, gripping the headboard tightly as she sat on his face.
His cock gave a particularly painful throb, and he sat up abruptly. He couldn't stay in this room. But it was late, he wasn't sure which of the other rooms on this floor were suitable for sleeping, and there was no way he was going to head up to the third floor and risk waking Sirius.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then noticed his towel hanging on a hook near the door. He'd take a shower, and hopefully she'd be done and asleep and all would be quiet when he got out. He bundled the towel in front of him as he quickly crossed the hallway to the bathroom, for god forbid Sirius or Tonks herself find themselves in the hallway and notice the very obvious tenting in his boxers.
He stepped into the shower, inhaling sharply as the cold water hit him. But under the stream of the water, he was finally able to relax a bit. He wrapped his arms around his middle, shivering slightly as he waited for the cold water to do the trick. Finally, his erection began to subside, and he turned the heat of the water up a bit, sighing in relief as it pounded against his sore back. He wasn't sure if it made him feel slightly better or worse when he acknowledged that the full moon was in five days, as his senses - and hormones - were generally slightly heightened around this time.
He took his time scrubbing shampoo through his hair and lathering his body with soap, praying that Tonks would be done with her - er - activity and asleep by the time he'd returned to his bed. He nearly dropped his towel, however, when he stepped into the hallway only to find himself face-to-face with a very startled looking Tonks, frozen steps from the bathroom door while clutching a fluffy turquoise towel.
"Tonks?" he managed. She looked at him with wide eyes, and he desperately tried not to notice how scant her sleepwear was. He felt his face heat up immediately. "Erm - I'm so sorry, I was just -"
"No, don't - don't apologize, I was just - sorry, I couldn't sleep and I just fancied a shower, so I thought...I didn't think anyone else would still be up." Her pink hair was tousled, face flushed. Her eyes flickered downwards, and he suddenly felt extremely exposed as he thought about the scars that crossed his torso. He was particularly self-conscious of the large one on his left side, in the vague shape of a werewolf's maw. He shifted awkwardly, trying to subtly obscure the bite mark with his arm while also trying to ensure he did not drop his towel because Merlin knows that's exactly what he would need right now.
He smiled awkwardly. "My - hot showers help when my back is sore, sometimes. I couldn't sleep either."
"Oh, right. Because of the - because of the - right," she replied, nodding furiously. He winced slightly; as if it weren't bad enough that he was standing in front of her nearly naked, his thin, scarred body on display, he had to remind her of what he was.
He inhaled deeply, pulling his towel tighter around his waist again. "Anyway, I'll get out of your way -"
"I'm - I hope your back feels better," she said, meeting his gaze straight-on again. "And I hope you can get some sleep, you deserve it."
He felt himself smiling as he took the remaining few steps to his door, pushing it open carefully. "Thanks, Tonks. Enjoy your shower, and sleep well."
As soon as he was alone again in his room, he groaned quietly. Not only was that perhaps the most awkward and embarrassing encounter he'd had with Tonks - or anyone in the Order, really - to date, but all the progress he'd made in the shower was now lost. While he'd managed to mostly keep himself from looking anywhere but her face during their conversation, apparently his mind had subconsciously taken detailed notes of the way her hardened nipples were visible through the thin material of her silky camisole. And now he was picturing her in the shower, water running down between her breasts as she lathered herself in soap.
He was hard again. You pervert, he admonished himself. He toweled his hair, then came to a conclusion as he hung his towel back up. He could try to suppress his thoughts again and just try to go to sleep, which would likely only lead to some embarrassing dreams and further frustration tomorrow. Or - and his face burned with shame, but he couldn't deny the flicker of pleasure he felt in his stomach at the thought - or he could indulge himself these thoughts, have a quick wank of his own, and be done with it.
He laid back down in his bed, closing his eyes as he laid back against the pillow. He ran a hand slowly down his stomach, trying to ignore the squirm of shame he felt when his left hand reached his erection. Just make this quick, he thought to himself. He wrapped his hand around his cock, breath hitching at the sensation and at how much precum he felt when his thumb brushed against the sensitive head. He started stroking himself, allowing his mind to wander freely now as his cock throbbed in his hand.
He tried to imagine it was her hand instead of his that was jerking him off right now. He imagined kissing her fiercely, their tongues sliding together while she tugged on his cock with one of her small hands.
He wondered what she'd be like in bed, if she'd be vocal. He'd certainly heard her make noise while touching herself, so it was fairly safe to assume that she'd make at least some noise while having sex. He wondered what kind of sounds she'd make as he kissed his way down her breasts, taking her taut nipples into his mouth and flicking them with his tongue before continuing his way down her body. He wondered if she'd let him eat her out, if she'd pull on his hair while he did so, if she'd clamp her thighs around his head while he pleasured her with his mouth.
He stifled a groan as his hand picked up speed on his cock. Now he was imagining fucking her; he knew she deserved to be taken slowly and gently, but his fantasies were beyond his control at this point. He pictured her flat on her back in his bed, arms thrown above her head and legs propped up on his shoulders, breasts bouncing as he thrust into her again and again, his hips smacking against her ass. Maybe she'd tell him to fuck her harder, faster; maybe, even more appealingly, she'd be moaning his name. He hoped he'd be able to make her come; he thought of gently reaching down to circle that little bundle of nerves with his fingers while he was still buried inside her, of watching her face as her muscles tensed and twitched around him and he felt her orgasm on his cock.
He was close now; he was panting and sweaty and he barely had the awareness to feel embarrassed of his lewd thoughts as he felt the muscles in his thighs tense, his hand jerking his cock so hard it was almost painful as his other hand tightly gripped the sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped the hand that had been twisted in the sheets over his mouth to hold back a groan as he finally came in spurts over his hand and stomach, his hips jerking upwards to thrust involuntarily into his hand as he came. His hand finally slowed its movements, his breathing slowing as well as his erection softened and the post-orgasm clarity and accompanying bloom of shame slowly started to return to his mind. Tonks would probably be horrified if she knew the thoughts he'd been having with her. He sighed as he reached for his wand, neatly clearing up the mess he'd made before he pulled his boxers and sleep shirt back on and slipped back into bed.
Laying against the pillows now and staring up at the ceiling, Remus realized that his wank had done absolutely nothing to get any of his thoughts or feelings about the witch in the next room over out of his head. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was bad enough that he fancied her, that he cared about her in that way; now, once he had pictured her naked and in compromising positions, he couldn't stop picturing her naked and in compromising positions.
Merlin, I'm fucked.