Title: The Art of Making Tea or How Remus Lupin Loves the Earl of Grey
Word Count:1,845
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:Cuss words, implied sexuality
Summary: He's only been back for 2 days since trying to run away with Harry and things aren't going terribly well. Tonks is, of course, waiting for the perfect moment to make her concerns, erm... evident.
Disclaimer: They are not mine. I do not make any money off of them.
Tonks watched from her chair as Remus entered the kitchen. He was wearing her favorite trousers, a lovely worn pair of cords in a rich brown that made her think of chocolate. She couldn’t help but lick her lips, they were a bit snug around his bum and well… pregnancy did strange things to her libido.
Surprisingly, he didn’t notice her presence and she watched as he walked deliberately over to the sink and turned on the tap to make tea.
The muggle way.
For the ninth time today.
And it was only thirty ‘til noon.
His long fingers curled around the brass handle of the old tea kettle that was nestled on the stove and poured the left over water out. Frankly, it was probably still warm from the last time he made tea. But Remus refilled it to the max line on the kettle, even though he was only making one cup of tea. He turned the cold water tap off and replaced the kettle to its burner before carefully turning the knob to high.
The sizzling sounds of the water on the outside of the kettle filled the room. But Remus did not stand idly and watch his water boil. No, he traced a well worn path, walking to the pantry and pulling out one tea bag from the very back of the cupboard. Tonks knew, without being able to see into the pantry, that Remus had pulled a tea bag out of dull ceramic jar that was filled with two things; his favorite muggle chocolate and Twinings Earl Grey tea bags.
He was a creature of habit, after all.
Tonks let a smile tug on her lips as he walked back to the counter, setting the tea bag on the counter top before cleaning out his mug. He even did this the muggle way, taking a wash cloth and dish soap to the inside of his mug; even though the same exact substance was going in it. He cleaned the cup completely then dried it with the towel hanging above the sink before setting it down near the tea bag.
The mug itself was Remus’. Tonks can not remember a time that she hadn’t seen him drinking from it, whether it be tea or Firewhiskey. It was a mug that Sirius had given him for Christmas their first year of school, it was a hideous green colour; putrid really, and it had Sirius’ child scrawl on it. “I Siriuosly (Heart) Remus”. The mere fact that Remus had kept it safe for all these years tugged at Tonks’ heart strings. He was, to the point of ridiculousness, a sentimental sap.
Tonks could hear the water boiling inside the kettle, the tiny pops of bubbles rising to the surface and the way it almost hummed inside the brass. But Remus didn’t pay it any mind. After setting down his mug he began to pace; three long strides to the door, a pivot, three long strides to the stove.
She could practically hear him thinking. She could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers seemed to tug at the small hairs at the base of his neck was a sure sign of blatant ‘Moony worrying’, as Sirius would say; Which meant that he was working himself into a right fit… and he had only been back for two days. The thought of another row and the possibility of the consequences made her insides turn into flabberworms.
Goodness, she hated war. It made her want to rub cheese graters over her face.
The water was boiling and it was driving Tonks mad. She was practically chanting in her head for him to just pick it up, but of course Remus is so bloody Remus that he has to wait for it to whistle. There are some days, when Tonks wonders if all the rumors about him and Sirius were true…
“SwwwKEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The water finally builds up enough steam and the resulting sound makes her jump at least a foot in there, only to land funny on her ankle. Tonks just rubs her slightly swollen belly and glares daggers at her husband; who, the git, is carefully and methodically placing his tea bag into his mug and pouring boiling water over it. Part of her wants the splash coming from the water and the bag meeting to give him just a bit of a burn. Maybe it’ll pull him out of his mood.
Oh his mood. The man had more moods than really anyone she knew, other than Mad-Eye; may his soul rest in peace.
But this, she would admit if prodded with a fork, was the best part of Remus’ tea making ritual. Tonks watched closely, leaning forward just at bit to get a better look. He had pulled the steaming mug to his lips, a wonderful contrast; the pink of his lips and the green of the mug. One hand is steadily pulling the tea bag in and out of the water, while the other is wrapped around the warm mug. If she thinks hard enough she can almost feel the warmth of the mug against her own lips. Remus takes a deep breath, inhaling the tea fumes with just a hint of a smile on his face before puckering his lips and blowing on the tea.
The best part of it all was he doesn’t just let air escape from his lungs. Remus makes this funny little sound, like he was vocalizing the sound of blowing on the tea; a cute little “fuoo”. It nearly makes Tonks forgive him for his foul mood… nearly. Because honestly, the way Remus eyes went almost crossed staring at the ripples his breath was making was really wonderful.
After moment of Remus attempting to cool off his tea and Tonks trying to suppress her laughter, he takes a tentative sip before pulling out the tea bag. But Remus does not walk to the bin to throw the tea bag away; Tonks laughter seems suddenly gone as if it had never come to her. He walks instead, to a small scrap of tin foil that was laying on the counter. Remus nibble fingers, careful to not let the bag drip onto the floor, wrap the tea bag in the foil wrapper and set it back by the stove; almost out of sight from anyone who wouldn’t be looking for it.
He’s saving his tea bags… to reuse them.
Like he was still alone and still poor.
How could she possibly stand by and let him insult her like that?
… she can’t.
“Remus John Lupin!” The words are out of her mouth before she can even register how much she sounds like her mother. And she crosses the kitchen quickly, ignoring the way he jumped at her words and spun around in surprise. “You put that tea bag in the trash right now.”
Tonks pokes his chest with her finger and narrows his eyes at his furrowed brow and guilty eyes.
“Dora-“ She shakes her head and waves her arm in a frantic sort of way.
“Remus, I am warning you. That if you thought our row was earth shattering last time, you will never even believe what is coming to you.” Her words seem growled out and she can hardly believe she is using her Auror voice against her husband.
“I don’t understand why this is so important to you. It’s just tea.” But Remus’ hand is still gripping his mug tightly, the tea bag still wrapped in foil very present in his minds eye.
“I will tell you why this is important to me, Remus. Because you’ve been hiding behind tea for days! For comfort or solidarity or something, I don’t know. But what I do know is that this is what led to you leaving me last time and I refuse to let you leave again. And furthermore, you’ve been wasting so much time with your precious tea that you have yet to notice that I’m glowing with that stupid baby glow and just begging to be shagged.”
With that said she stepped backward and sat onto the kitchen table, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Tonks watched through her narrowed eyes as Remus looked a bit shocked before rushing towards her, setting down his tea and wrapping his arms around her. She couldn’t help by sigh with relief, she’d missed the way his arms felt around her and the way his skin felt pressed against hers or the wonderful smell of parchment and books and wind.
Remus tried to pull away but her arms held fast around his waste, her fingers digging into his sides.
“I missed you.” Tonks’ words are muffled into his chest but do manage to be somewhat audible.
“I’m sorry.” His breath rumbles through her hair and she can’t for the life of her remember what colour it is.
“Don’t be. Just be sure, Remus. Stop thinking that this might not be the place where you belong; because it is, here with me and our baby. Our child.”
Remus nods into her hair, taking a deep breath and pulling away slightly to rest his hands on her belly. His fingers begin to trace small pattern and Tonks can not think of a more wonderful sensation.
“Remus,” her eyes lock with his and she hopes that her next words will sink in. “this child, would only be ashamed of you if it knew how much you loved tea.” Tonks tries to keep her eyes from blinking… can he read what she is trying to say? Does he understand how amazing he is and how badly she just wants to show him? Can he possibly understand how much she loves him?
Her husband bites his lip and nods slightly, bringing his lips to her forehead.
“Would it be presumptuous to assume that I could take you up on your offer on the kitchen table?” The way his lips move against her forehead makes a shiver run down Tonks’ spine.
The glint in his eyes is back and Tonks can hardly contain her joy. Her laugh is loud and bubbly as his smile is genuine, for the first time in probably close to three weeks. But she only shakes her head and pops off the kitchen table, taking his hand and leading him out the door and up the stairs to where their bedroom is.
Hours later, lying with his arms warped around her and their legs a tangled heap of heat and love; she notices that he still managed to keep his tea in the picture. His green mug gleamed almost mischievously from the bedside table in the late afternoon light.
“I Siriusly love you.” Tonks whispers, wiggling her bum against him. But he does not stir and she can only imagine he has fallen asleep, his even breaths ghosting the back of her neck as he nuzzles and burrows underneath the covers and closer to her.
Yes, this is exactly where is he supposed to be.
