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Remus descends the staircase at Grimmauld Place in a hurry. The Order meeting is starting any minute now and he doesn’t want to be late.
This is what he tells himself, at least. He doesn’t want to miss the chance of sitting next to—
“Hey, Remus!”
The object of his highly inappropriate desires has taken hold of his arm and he finds himself pulled into the late Orion Black’s study.
“T-Tonks,” he chokes. “The meeting!”
“I need to ask you something.”
She’s leaning against the desk, exhaling rapidly, her chest heaving with irregular, almost nervous breaths. Remus stands in front of her, struggling not to stare down her revealing shirt.
“Yes?”
“Did you finish the report for me?” she asks, as a pleasing, rosy hue covers her face and neck. “The one from last week’s mission?”
“I did,” Remus replies, frowning. “Did you not want me to?”
“No, I did, or I don’t mind,” she says quickly. Biting the inside of her cheek, she adds, “Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
It feels as if there’s something between them. If Remus is honest, it’s been there for months, budding and decaying and regrowing again, each time stronger than before, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.
But then she flings her arms around his neck and presses a kiss on his lips. It’s barely more than a peck, their lips aren’t even parted, and it’s over too soon.
Tonks steps back and puts her hand over her mouth. The tick-tick-tick of the antique clock behind them fills the silence.
There’s a creaking sound coming from the staircase.
Remus inhales sharply and looks behind him. The door is half-open and he’s horrified someone has seen them. He shouldn’t have let her pull him into the dark, secluded space. If he’s lucky, it’ll be Sirius who finds them, but if it’s Severus or—
“—no one saw,” Tonks says, in a tone that’s too high-pitched. “I’m sorry . . . I wanted to thank you, and I’ve been meaning to tell you . . . ”
She babbles erratically, confusing him. She’s usually articulate but she’s making all sorts of excuses and he’s wondering if she really just kissed him.
“ . . . a secret, I meant it to stay that way, and it’s just, you’re you and I’m me and . . .”
“What?”
“Were you not,” she stops, as her hair colors prettily, matching her pink cheeks, “listening to me? I said we can keep what just happened . . . a secret. If you want.”
“Y-yes,” he stammers. “That’s probably for the best.”
A golden clock chimes behind them. It strikes once, twice, thrice, until it settles on an eighth, sharp trill.
“We’re going to be late,” she says quietly, almost painfully. “I’m sorry. I understand if . . . you don’t want to be partnered on any more missions with me. It’s obvious you don’t . . .”
Remus opens his mouth. “Tonks, why would I want that?”
He’s never seen her look so forlorn. Her shoulders are uncharacteristically slumped, her chest isn’t heaving as strongly, and her eyes are downturned.
“I’m—”
“—tell them I’ve got a headache.” Her tone is weak, but resolved.
“What?” Remus sputters, his hands finding her arms instinctively. “Do you need something for it? I can get you a potion—”
“—can you just tell me this,” Tonks interrupts, as her hair becomes a duller pink, “you didn’t want me to do that. To kiss you.”
“You wanted . . . that was intentional?”
Hurried, staccato steps reach them.
“There you are,” says Sirius. Remus jumps away from Tonks, recognizing how inappropriately close they are, and a knowing smirk crosses his friend’s face.
“Tell them we need a minute more to finish the report,” Tonks says hotly. She glares, turning her nose up, and Remus sees the sharp, Black family cheekbones forming into a mask of haughty, indignant rage.
Sirius grins and hums a bright tune on his way out. He closes the door behind him, leaving Remus truly alone with Tonks.
The Black mask is gone a moment later. It’s Tonks again, open, gentle, and startlingly embarrassed.
“If I kissed you again,” she says, her voice trembling as it finds its previous strength, “would you kiss me back?”
Remus gapes at her, watching the mix of emotions crossing her face. He doesn’t know where to look, but she’s coming closer and—
Her lips are on his again. The realization washes over him that she wants this, and he’s letting her, and he knows he’ll be damned to hell but she’s got the softest lips, most intoxicating scent, and sweetest sighs.
They pull apart a minute later when clipped, impatient knocking interrupts them.
“I don’t have all night,” Sirius says irritably. “Finish your secret report. I told the others you’re battling a ghoul but they’re only going to buy that for—”
While Sirius talks loudly at them, Tonks murmurs against Remus’s jaw.
“We can keep it a secret for now, okay?”
Remus thinks it should be kept a secret forever, their kiss in the study, but when Sirius raps at the door they know they’ve got to go.
“Remus,” Tonks whispers, taking his hand before it’s on the brass doorknob. “We’ll talk later, right?”
He manages to nod; her radiant smile lights up the shadowy study and he follows her out, not realizing he still has her hand in his until they’ve found their seats at the meeting.