A/N: I wrote this last night... when I was EXTREMELY HORNY, so if you don't like smut, leave now...

If you're still reading this, then wow, you must be pretty damn horny. Well that's good, because this story was written for your pleasure.

Enjoy yourselves. ;)


"Tonks?" Remus sounded surprised to see her. As he caught sight of her distraught face at his door, all previous barriers between them seemed to fall away as genuine concern took over his mind. "What are you…?"

"Remus," she said, interrupting him, "don't say anything. Just let me in, and I'll get right to the point." He seemed taken aback, but stood back to let her pass. She swept through the door, and though she shivered to feel herself pass so closely to his, she didn't look at him until she heard the door shut behind her.

Remus was looking at her in concern. "Tonks, what's wrong? You look dreadful," he said. His face was contorted in sympathy, but she didn't want to see it. He was one to talk about looking dreadful: Remus was looking thoroughly underweight, his robes shabby, patched, and frayed, while fresh scars glowed white on his face in the dim lighting of his flat.

Tonks stared at him. She leaned against his dreary kitchen table, and sighed. "Remus, I'm just going to get right to the point now, otherwise I might lose my nerve, and…" she swallowed and shook her head. Her heart was indeed pounding so fast and hard that her ribs were sore, her head spinning, and her hands shaking. "So, I've just got to say it…" She took a very deep breath, and could already feel tears beginning to well in her eyes. She tried to swallow them back, but as she finally began to speak, their existence was prominent in her choked voice. "Remus, I know things have been… I know we've..." she cleared her throat. "Look, I know how you feel about me, and you know how I feel about you, but…"

"Tonks…" Remus cooed, a dark glaze seeming to pass over his heavy eyes as he looked mournfully at her.

"Let me finish, Remus, please!" she cried, tears starting to spill. She didn't bother to wipe them away as she continued, very quickly. She wanted to get the rejection over with. "Remus, I know what you're going to say. You're going to say what you have been saying all this time: That you're too old, too poor, and to dangerous for me, but…" she took a breath, which turned into a great, shuddering sob. "I just don't care! I've said it before, but now more than ever, I am telling you…. I am demanding that you hear me when I say that I just don't care, and that I need you!" Her bottom lip shook as she whispered, "And… I love you."

These last three words quivered as she spoke them, and they seemed to reverberate rather echoingly in the room. They rung in her ears, for saying it to him finalized it more than simply knowing it internally did.

"But… Tonks…"

She could tell, as he stuttered, that his eyes were shining now with mutual tears, and it was this that made her know: he loved her, too.

"Don't, Remus," she said weakly, her voice still trembling. "Don't tell me what you already have… and don't try to make me change my mind, because I'm not going to." She crossed her arms in an attempt to look defiant, but the tears running down her face, her shaking hands, and her twitching bottom lip rather ruined this image. "Can you please skip the part where you tell me off, or throw me out, or whatever you're planning to do with me? Please?" she asked sadly. Her voice was very high, and very weak, but she knew he was hearing her. She knew that for probably the first time, he was hearing her. Something told her, however, that it was not her words that were getting to him, but her obvious pain of his rejection that was at last resonating with him.

There was silence during which tears fell silently down Tonks' cheeks, and found themselves on her lips. She didn't bother to wipe away the salty taste from her mouth. She simply stood there, still leaning against his table, watching Remus calmly, as his eyes darted everywhere around his flat but at her. He seemed to be trying very hard to hold the tears back from his eyes, and she saw his hands clutching the edge of his robes so tightly that his knuckles were white. She could say nothing. She simply watched him for a very long time, admiring every detail of Remus' prematurely lined face. At thirty seven years of age, he wasn't very old, and yet, his unkempt hair was graying, his face was lined, and his eyes were bagged. Still, it suited him. It clashed incredibly with Tonks' ripe age of twenty four, her short, spiked hair such a vivid pink, her skin so young and clean. She didn't care, though. She couldn't. She loved him. None of his faults mattered. She loved every inch of the nervous man before her, and was willing to take him for exactly what he was, not caring that he was thirteen years older than she, or poorer than most, or a werewolf. She just loved him too much to care. He didn't seem to understand, though, that her love went above and beyond caring about how he looked or what he had to offer her. Her love was pure, and felt, in times of war like these, like all she had.

She continued to watch him, loving the way his lips twitched nervously against each other as he thought, and the way his dark, mysterious eyes shot around the room in desperation. She couldn't resist the small smile that found its way upon her mouth.

After a very long while, Remus' eyes rested on Tonks' face. Her heart skipped menacingly, but it felt good, having him look at her. Still, it hurt, as she knew she was about to be rejected once more.

But then, without warning, Remus began to walk toward her. In several quick paces, he was standing right in front of her. Her heart was leaping into her throat with anticipation, heart hammering against her chest as though it were a terrible, deep drum inside of her. He gripped the table with both hands, one on either side of her body as she leaned backwards in surprise, letting him press harrowingly against her. He stared her right in the face, his eyes locked with hers so tightly that she felt as though he had cast a spell on her that made her unable to look away. "This is wrong," he whispered throatily, "me… being with you…"

"But it feels so right, so it just doesn't matter," she croaked, shaking her head and licking her lips. She tasted her own salty tears on her tongue, but didn't pay any attention, still focused on his eyes, which seemed to be filled with conflicting emotions. "Nothing matters but our love," she said breathlessly, in hardly more than a tiny whisper, her heart beating even harder within her.

His breathing was growing heavier with every instant they spent so close to one another. She was panting as she felt his hot breath on her mouth. It was so unintentionally seductive, and she was growing weak in the knees. She couldn't help it anymore, as the build up of tension in her heart became suddenly so extreme that she couldn't take it, and with a relieving groan, she moved her head forward to connect his mouth with hers.

All inhibition melted away as their lips collided, and her tongue ran itself over his, seducing him into finally letting go. A very uncharacteristic moan vibrated from Remus, into her mouth, as she wrapped her arms around his back, and let her fingers grip him to her. She felt sudden cold hands on her face, thumbs wiping the drying tears from her cheeks, and her heart was exploding with unheard of excitement then. Everything was suddenly better as Remus' tongue entered her mouth. He tasted so good, and felt so right in her arms, and she couldn't understand how they had never allowed themselves to be this way before.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, and lust drove her to unfasten his robes, and strip them away. In only his t-shirt and trousers, he still looked beautiful to her, and she felt, as a magnificent shudder passed through her, something hard against her leg as hands slid beneath her shirt to remove it. She lifted her arms to let him slide it away, and once it was gone, hardly able to control herself, she wrapped her arms around him once more and tore his shirt clean off his body. It split along a seam as her shaking fingers pulled it furiously from him, and threw it aside. He pulled back to stare at her in amazement, his eyes full of not only surprise, but longing as well.

"What?" she asked, her voice breathless and shaking. "You didn't know I could be so forceful?"

He leaned his forehead against hers, and pressed his bare chest to her shivering body. She felt desire rise within her as he did so, and exhaled deeply, her eyes closed as he whispered, "Well, I bet you wouldn't know that I can be, as well,"

"Who, you?" she breathed, eyes still closed, growing hot, and beginning to sweat as his sweet breath blew against the nape of her neck. "I don't believe you," she giggled.

"I am."

She opened her eyes again, and looked into his, which searched hers hungrily as she whispered into his parted lips, "So show me."

It was with a very sudden and rough movement that he grabbed her around the waist and pushed her backward. It was so violent and strange coming from Remus, but it highly aroused her, and she found herself letting out a high laugh that concealed a strangled moan. The surface of the table was cold and textured beneath her back, but it didn't matter. All she could feel was Remus' calloused hands on her body, and his skin beneath her own hands as she removed his trousers. Physical pleasure shot through her as he slipped his hands underneath her skirt, and felt his fingers lightly brush her in the places she'd thought him too respectable to ever dream of touching. She let out a gasp of delight, and he laughed wickedly into her breasts as he kissed them tenderly once her bra had been removed.

The old marauder that he once had been was coming to life inside him again, and she could feel that person reviving in Remus' cold, distant heart as he shook above her, his muscles pulsing all around her sweating body, and his hands quivering as they removed her skirt. The look in his eyes was piercing, and so reminiscent of someone Sirius had once told her about: Remus as a younger man, having been heartier, more eager, brasher… this entirely new person was still so excitingly Remus that it provoked Tonks into wrapping her legs around Remus' waist.

He was hard against her thigh, and she was wet beneath him, wanting him desperately. Her breasts moved up and down furiously as she panted, her flesh becoming pink and tender as she went flush with everything he did to her. Feeling the bulge against her made her even hungrier for him, and she entangled her fingers tightly in his hair as he slid down her body to become level with her hips.

Tonks sucked in a breath as Remus' tongue tantalized the insides of her thigh, so close to the most sensitive areas of all. She found herself speechless except for the smallest "oh," that escaped her, as his mouth was suddenly on her, and his tongue, in her.

She was panting hard, her fingers gripping the edges of the table, her head thrown back. She didn't want him to stop, and yet, if he didn't… well, she wanted him above her when she reached the height of her pleasure, not down by her hips where she couldn't see him. She grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him upward. She was holding his hair at the base of his scalp, so hard that his neck was being forced to bend as she pulled him to be level with her face again. "Remus," she sighed into his ear.

"Hmm?" he breathed. She felt his chest moving quickly against her as he panted as well. Twirling his chest hairs in her fingers, she pulled him as close to her as she could, so that his chin was cradled on her shoulder, his entire body nearly crushing hers.

She licked his neck lightly and felt him shudder, before moaning quietly into his ear, "I think I like you this way…"

"What way?" he asked, his hands traveling down the sides of her body as he was still pressed down against it.

She didn't have an answer. In truth, she was too light headed to have heard him at all. "It's the quiet and innocent ones," she breathed delicately, "that no one every suspects. But it's always them you've got to look out for. I mean…" she at last pulled him away, to look into his eyes again. "Who would have thought that someone like you could be so forceful?"

Remus laughed throatily, and said, in a low, hoarse voice that was nearly a moan, "Who ever told you I was innocent?"

She let out a broken, shuddering, high moan as he scraped his teeth along her neck, growling in an animalistic way, laughing wickedly, tormenting her… teasing her on purpose… driving her mad…

"Oh… Remus," she moaned between sharp breaths of pleasure, "Stop torturing me… just… go for it…"

There was a twinkle in his eye that she had never seen there before… one that drove her crazy and mad with desire and needing. She could feel his arousal against the joint between her leg and hip, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she was being turned on without any inducement. She reached her legs up so they were around his waist, and kicked his boxers down. He shoved them away from his feet, and let them fall from the table as he hovered above her, her legs still joined with his hips. He looked into her for a moment, questioning, with a hint of uncertainty on his own face, but determined all the same. She showed no hesitation, however, and urged him on with a very high-pitched, strangled word: "Please!"

As she let him into her body, she found herself involuntarily jerking with pleasure. Her hands were twitching: they couldn't keep still, and were everywhere on him, at some moments clutching her own hair, at others digging into her own skin as well as his, to stop herself from screaming. Everything was wonderful; her entire body filled with bursts of pleasure as Remus' hips moved fast and quick in a beautiful rhythm that seemed to match the beating of her heart. He moaned into her hair as she squealed against his neck, biting her lip, still trying, with such difficulty, to not scream out.

"Let it out," he cooed, his voice cracking as his own pleasure built as well. "Let go," he told her.

She was feeling their moment too much to realize the irony of these words: the tight-laced man was telling the wild young woman to let go.

As he told her to stop holding it in, she obeyed, and opened her mouth, thrusting her head back, screaming. She screamed his name as things suddenly got too much for her, and the hot intensity of this union grew so extreme that she couldn't think of anything but his body in hers, for things felt so good… better than she'd thought anything ever could in the world. And so his name escaped her lips at the top of her lungs as her entire body jerked at him, forcing him further into her, and his groan against her made everything all the more exciting.

Remus' hands gripped the table on either side of her. As she snaked her hands over his, lacing their fingers, gripping him to the corner of the wood so tightly that he gasped in pain, he began to moan simultaneously with pleasure, for his moment had come. He was panting gruffly beside Tonks' ear, his body stabbing into hers with forceful movements that made her squirm in delight, and grin in hot, strong excitement.

Something seemed to have burst within Remus, and as he let out within her, he held himself there, letting her feel him washing over her.

He collapsed upon her, and they lay there upon his table for a very long while, simply lying until they could gather any physical strength to move. She loved him being there, on top of her, and was therefore disappointed when he shifted to roll himself away and shake his head at the table with a laugh. "This poor table…" he said, amused. He was still trying to catch his breath, she could tell. "I'll never be able to eat on it again, now," he said, smiling, and looking back at Tonks, who was laughing as well. His soft smile became a grin as his eyes passed over her hair.

"What is it?" she asked unconcernedly. "Is my hair that awful now?"

"No, actually," he told her calmly, looking at her hair with a faintly dreamy expression on his face. "It's just that… well… did you know your hair turns neon yellow when you, uh…?"

"Does it?" she gasped. "I never knew! No one ever bothered to tell me!"

"How rude of them," said Remus rather stiffly. "I guess none of them cared enough."

"Not like you do, anyway," she said smiling warmly at him. He smiled back, and leaned in to kiss her mouth again. He tasted so sweet, and just a single kiss was making her want him again. She held back, however, and managed to sit up at last, though her muscles were very sore in most places on her body.

Remus followed suit, and her eyes traveled sadly over the scars on his body as they both began to reapply their forgotten clothing. Long white gashes over his stomach and chest ran everywhere on his skin, his arms covered in them as well. They didn't matter to Tonks, but they pained her, knowing that every time he looked at them, he would be reminded of what he was, and being what he was seemed to make him think they couldn't be together.

Not anymore, though. He couldn't possibly still think they didn't belong together… not after what they had just felt… not after what had just taken place between them. He couldn't possibly be thinking of rejecting her now… not again… he wouldn't…

Would he?