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Title: Sweet Skin
Character/Pairings: Charlie/Tonks
Rating: R (a soft R but I finally got to some smut)
Word Count: 562
Prompt: 5 - sing the blues at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
7spells
Author's Note: If anyone finds bed sheets with ducks leaping puddles... well, I can't guarantee where they've been!
There wasn’t much time for Charlie to figure out how she was going to find his flat. Surprisingly, Tonks closed the door on his parent’s domestic bliss inside and kissed him hard. It was enough to throw him off balance so that he couldn’t concentrate on anything but her whispered, “Go, Charlie. I’ll follow you.”
When he was standing outside his door, trying to remember how to undo the charm that kept it secure in his absence, it dawned on him that she’d never been here. If she hadn’t, how would she Apparate… but the popping noise at the top of the stairs stopped the worry.
“Unlock the door, already,” she said, her hands on her hips as she stood watching him, the first couple buttons of her shirt undone.
He wasn’t sure how he got the door open, the light on and the stereo playing whatever CD was still in place. It seemed more romantic to have some music in the background. By the time he turned back around, she’d successfully put her own locking charm on the door and had finished unbuttoning all the buttons that had seemed legion to his lust-filled eyes.
“Bedroom?” she asked, looking around the flat. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture in the front room. There was no way he was going to test out his couch tonight since he’d only sat on it once since purchasing it. A spring had welcomed his inaugural trial. He hadn’t had time to deal with it. “Bedroom?” she asked again, the desperation in her voice cutting through his fog about furniture.
He led her down the short hall, enough of his brain cells functioning to remind him to start undressing so they were on equal ground when he finally got her on his bed. His luck these days, she’d change her mind when she saw the ducks merrily leaping puddles on his sheets. The twins had thought they’d be a funny joke… and why was he thinking of the twins and duck sheets when he could hear Tonks wrestling with cotton fibers behind him?
“I like your choice in music.”
He turned to see if she was joking. Instead, he fell to his knees in the doorway and discovered just how smooth and sweet the skin of her stomach was. He’d only seen her without a shirt once and that had been because of an injury on the Quidditch pitch their Seventh Year. For all the kisses they’d shared, it hadn’t gone past that point. Hands had found their way under shirts but it had been an exploration of roughened fingers and damp palms.
“I adore you,” he whispered as she bent down to massage her hands over his shoulders and down his back. The puckered skin from numerous healed burns slowed her exploration down and he was able to nuzzle one breast until she was content to pull him up to his feet.
“We can try to the floor later. I’d much rather try out the duck sheets.”
Gladly, he let her lead him to the wide bed, the smooth sounds of a jazz saxophone following them from the other room. It was good music for what he had in mind for tonight. When they tried the floor, he’d have to switch it to something with a few more guitar riffs and pounding drum solos.
Character/Pairings: Charlie/Tonks
Rating: R (a soft R but I finally got to some smut)
Word Count: 562
Prompt: 5 - sing the blues at
7spellsAuthor's Note: If anyone finds bed sheets with ducks leaping puddles... well, I can't guarantee where they've been!
There wasn’t much time for Charlie to figure out how she was going to find his flat. Surprisingly, Tonks closed the door on his parent’s domestic bliss inside and kissed him hard. It was enough to throw him off balance so that he couldn’t concentrate on anything but her whispered, “Go, Charlie. I’ll follow you.”
When he was standing outside his door, trying to remember how to undo the charm that kept it secure in his absence, it dawned on him that she’d never been here. If she hadn’t, how would she Apparate… but the popping noise at the top of the stairs stopped the worry.
“Unlock the door, already,” she said, her hands on her hips as she stood watching him, the first couple buttons of her shirt undone.
He wasn’t sure how he got the door open, the light on and the stereo playing whatever CD was still in place. It seemed more romantic to have some music in the background. By the time he turned back around, she’d successfully put her own locking charm on the door and had finished unbuttoning all the buttons that had seemed legion to his lust-filled eyes.
“Bedroom?” she asked, looking around the flat. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture in the front room. There was no way he was going to test out his couch tonight since he’d only sat on it once since purchasing it. A spring had welcomed his inaugural trial. He hadn’t had time to deal with it. “Bedroom?” she asked again, the desperation in her voice cutting through his fog about furniture.
He led her down the short hall, enough of his brain cells functioning to remind him to start undressing so they were on equal ground when he finally got her on his bed. His luck these days, she’d change her mind when she saw the ducks merrily leaping puddles on his sheets. The twins had thought they’d be a funny joke… and why was he thinking of the twins and duck sheets when he could hear Tonks wrestling with cotton fibers behind him?
“I like your choice in music.”
He turned to see if she was joking. Instead, he fell to his knees in the doorway and discovered just how smooth and sweet the skin of her stomach was. He’d only seen her without a shirt once and that had been because of an injury on the Quidditch pitch their Seventh Year. For all the kisses they’d shared, it hadn’t gone past that point. Hands had found their way under shirts but it had been an exploration of roughened fingers and damp palms.
“I adore you,” he whispered as she bent down to massage her hands over his shoulders and down his back. The puckered skin from numerous healed burns slowed her exploration down and he was able to nuzzle one breast until she was content to pull him up to his feet.
“We can try to the floor later. I’d much rather try out the duck sheets.”
Gladly, he let her lead him to the wide bed, the smooth sounds of a jazz saxophone following them from the other room. It was good music for what he had in mind for tonight. When they tried the floor, he’d have to switch it to something with a few more guitar riffs and pounding drum solos.
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Date: 2008-04-13 03:02 pm (UTC)From: