Current mood:	sleepy
Current music:	Bond

Fic : A Kiss is Just a Kiss [T/R]
Gods, I finally finished my entry for the rl_nt_ficathon. It only took:

- 25 days.
- 6 different drafts - each written in 2 different points of views, and don’t even get me started on the tenses and perspectives.
- 1 night of insomnia due to taking 1000mg of some antibiotic whose name I can’t pronounce that causes nausea and hallucinations (I swear my window switched walls and there’s a monster in my closet who can’t seem to keep quiet – I think I’ll start charging rent).
- and one rather boring day at work (I’m so damned bored, I could be home sleeping right now *sniff*).

The end result isn’t all that great nor that long (just over 5 pages), but I don’t think I can take another day of having this hanging over my head. It sucks not having a beta to bounce ideas off of; it’s so much harder when all you have to go on is your own critique.

Anyway, here it is, an angsty T/R fic, from Remus’ point of view (may JKR forgive me).

Title: A Kiss is Just a Kiss
Rating: R (very minor sexual content)
Requested By: miss_celestine
The Request: Angsty R/T, rated from PG-13 to NC-17 - after battling with his conscience, Remus gives in to desire for Tonks (Remus's PoV, obviously).


~ A Kiss is Just a Kiss ~

“Remus, do you think it’s possible to be in love with someone you’ve never even kissed?”

I stopped mid-fold, turning to look at her as she leaned against the doorway watching me pack, a somber, somewhat perplexed expression marring her young face. She’d surprised me, again. I should have been used to it by now, having her barge into my space, asking inane questions that only serve to drive me mad as I try to answer them, her logic and mine never quite seeming to meet eye to eye as she’s forever questioning my views. But the truth is, every time she steps into the room I'm left feeling a bit unhinged.

Under most circumstances I’d have smiled or even laughed, for all my protest I enjoy her company; look forward to it like a starving man looks forward to his next meal. But the lightness that usually accompanies her is gone, and I couldn’t help the feeling of dread that settled itself within me.

Setting down the half folded shirt atop my trunk, I allowed myself to think over her question, trying to gauge just where the conversation would end, if there were even a way to answer without actually answering.

“I think,” I began, with just a vague idea of a response, “it’s possible we sometimes build people up in our minds to be something greater than they are and forget that they have flaws that make them imperfect, make them human. We hold such great expectations, such great hopes, and in the end it’s impossible to have anyone live up to them…” I was rambling, I knew it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give her a cut clean answer, for what reason I knew not, I just knew I was doing a piss poor job of stalling for time.

“There are those that believe being attracted to - desiring someone - equals love, while others argue that there is more to love than the purely physi-”

“That’s nice an all Remus,” she interrupted, making her way into the room, stopping just long enough to riffle through my open trunk – a classic example of her invading my space – before turning her attention back to me; “but that really doesn’t answer my question you know.”

All right, so I wasn’t going to get away with some philosophical view on the subject. It had been worth a shot.

“Is it possible to be in love with someone you’ve never kissed?” I reiterated, watching as she bobbed her head once, letting it tilt curiously to the side waiting for me to continue.

After pausing to consider one last time I finally replied, “I don’t know,” hoping that would be the end of it, yet clearly knowing better.

“You don’t know?!” The incredulousness in her voice was hard to miss, and though very slight I swore there was a tone of pain hidden there which seemed oddly out of place. Clearly my response failed to satisfy her.

“Remus, what sort of a half assed answer is that?”

I admit it was vague, but what did she want from me? This was not a subject I ever thought to discuss with her, ever wanted to - I tried to keep from thinking about it as much as possible myself, the fact that I even gave a half attempt had to count for something, didn’t it?

I could feel the headache building right behind my eyes. I hadn’t slept in days, my mind filled with jumbled thoughts, too many to keep track of – imminent eviction, life threatening missions… the still aching sting of losing a friend. Finally, I found myself thinking of her pining away for some daft bloke and the sickening feeling that had been dancing around in me intensified. It was at that moment that I realized how exhausted I truly was.

“It’s my answer all the same. What more can you want?” Even my voice came out sounding tired now and I let myself sink into the bed behind me, too weary to stay standing.

She didn’t seem inclined to pity as she loomed over me, her stare surprisingly intense as she searched my face for something I knew not. For someone who barely reaches pass my chin, and on most occasions’ tripping over her own feet, she can be a startling adversary. And I wondered, not for the first time, if she realized the effect she had on my peace of mind.

“Something that makes a little more sense than, ‘I don’t know’. Really Remus, you must have some thoughts on the subject to be able to come up with a better answer.

I mean, isn’t it possible to know someone, be with them day in and day out, grow to learn their habits, their insecurities, the things that make them laugh and those that make them cry. Have them become a part of you, so much so that you begin fear losing them, find the prospect of living without them so sickening that you can feel your chest constrict in agony at the mere thought.”

I just sat there listening to her prattle, transfixed as she gestured with her hands, unable to talk without moving her arms dangerously about.

“Isn’t it possible to wake up one day, and know without shadow of a doubt that the reason you look forward to getting up and going downstairs is because he’s there, drinking more coffee than can possibly be healthy and reading a muggle paper because he says it gives him a broader sense of the world? Isn’t that love?”

She ended in a whisper, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, a nervous look about her as she waited for me to say something... anything... to react.

I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me as I shifted to look down at the tattered rug, closing my eyes as I mentally flogged myself. I wondered how I could have missed the signs, was I truly that dense? Had I been hiding from her for so long, keeping myself from giving anything away that I’d failed to notice she felt something in return? Though a small part of me leapt at the thought that she could possibly love me, the rest felt as if the world had just caved within itself.

For so long I’d been building scenarios that couldn’t possibly come true, wishing for something more than ‘friendship’ when that was all I could ever hope to offer in return, imagining ‘happily ever afters’ when I knew there was nothing at the end but heartbreak and disappointment.

And it killed me to have to disappoint her then.

“You shouldn’t give your heart out to someone who’s so flawed.”

“It’s a bit too late for that. Besides, I don’t think I ever had much choice in the matter.”

“Please, don’t do this Nymphadora.” I turned back to look her in the eyes, pleading with her to understand.

“Do what? Tell you that I love you?”

“Build me up to be something that I’m not.”

“I’m hardly doing that. I know your flaws Remus, and I still love you - not despite them, not ‘cause of them, but because they’re part of you. I’m not asking you to tell me that you love me. All I want is an honest answer to my question. Do you think it’s possible to be in love with someone you’ve never kissed?”

With a resigned sigh I gave up. How could I deny her when she was looking at me with such soulful eyes?

“Yes. It’s possible…” the light in her eyes returned, only to quickly die out as I continued “…but you have to remember that a kiss, for all intents and purposes, is sometimes just a kiss.”

“You know, for someone so bloody smart you can be a right daft prick sometimes.”

I can’t say I hadn’t expected that response, but I certainly hadn’t anticipated that she’d grab the lapels of my robe, pull me up – she has surprising strength - and kiss me there and then. It took a while for the shock to wear off, for my brain to unfreeze and comprehend her actions. There’s one thing that can be said about Nymphadora Tonks, she’ll always do the unexpected. And as she leaned into me, her lips barely tracing mine, soft and pliant, I lost all sense of self.

I knew nothing could come of it, that only tears and heartache would follow. But, even had I wanted to, I was powerless to stop her. For so long she’d been a lifeline, anchoring me to reality when so many things threatened to pull me apart - Sirius, the Order, the moon in with her ever twisted beauty. I’d been alone for so long, friendless and adrift, and she’d come out of nowhere bringing color to my ever-darkening world. I could no more resist her did my life depend on it - ironically enough I think it did.

So I gave in, forgot a looming transformation just days’ away, stopped caring that I’d been left without a home, or that my last paying job was some three months back and I found myself destitute with little chance of employment. All my worries left as my senses centered on the witch whose body fit so perfectly in mine, whose lips parted under my hungry assault as I took over the kiss she’d instigated. My hands magically found their way into her hair, fingers twisting through pink strands, pulling her closer, killing any space that might have still exist between us.

I’d berate myself in the morning – in an hour – but right at that moment all that mattered was Nymphadora, whose lips somehow taste of chocolate and rum, and whose hands seemed to be on some quest of their own, busy creeping up my jumper, coiling up around my back, kneading… digging into me. And I could feel myself tensing in expectation; felt the blood rushing through my veins.

I was surrounded by her body… her sent… her taste. Fighting a losing battle for control within myself.

Our breaths mingled and separated, one moan losing itself in the next. One kiss became two, became three, and I lost count. There was desperation to it then. Clothes became a barrier needing to be toppled, keeping me from her. As I removed her shirt, my hands grazing past her breasts, causing her to shiver and moan my name into my mouth, I knew without shadow of a doubt that I’d just condemned myself.

For a second I pulled away to stare at her, this girl… woman, whose laughing face and shinning eyes filled my waking days; whose voice and body featured in my dreams, leaving me to wake up hard and cursing at myself.

“Just a kiss?” she asked breathlessly.

“Just a kiss.” I lied – though I’m sure she knew - as I reclaimed her lips, sealing my fate.

I’m no fucking monk, though god knows I’d lived like one for too long. And as I had her there beneath me, a willing sacrifice to my raging beast, I finally let go.

If just for that moment, I’d let myself forget and lose myself within her arms.



~ Eternal Damnation ~

He pushed into her, driving harder and faster, her legs entwined tightly around him, urging him on, pleading with him not to stop, to finish what he'd started the moment he first laid eyes on her – bring it to its inevitable conclusion. Their cries of ecstasy mixing as he captured her lips, thrusting a final time, taking them both over the edge of reason and into oblivion.

I wake up in a cold sweat, oblivious to everything save the dream that will not leave me, that keeps me up night after endless night replaying itself, a reminder of my one moment of weakness. How a dream can cause me to lose myself is beyond me; to leave me yearning for something that doesn’t exist, for some fragment of a memory.

But god, I can still smell her on me, even months later, after countless showers and tons of grime. As impossible as it is, her smell permeates my senses like a heavy drug. Her scent's stamped in my subconscious mind.

Closing my eyes, I cant help the groan that escapes my lips, lips parched for something other than water, needing to feel the softness of her body, needing to hear the sound of her voice - her cries as she comes beneath me, calling my name, begging for more…

Yes, I’m in hell - like I very well deserve to be.