[ AMAZING, is what a little casual tongue between friends is. BRILLIANT. THE BEST DAY OF REMUS LUPIN'S YOUNG ADULT LIFE.
That's an exaggeration. But his eyes do go wide for a moment before they close on instinct, and it's only because he's caught mid-laugh that there's anywhere close to a seamless transition into slightly-tonguey kissing instead of a moment of frozen-lipped shock. He still ends up gripping at Sirius' shoulder around her—which is weird, probably, but it's a pointy-fingered clutch, akin to if he were taking a step back from something astonishing and needed the moral and physical support, only slightly less dramatic, you know, because it's just snogging and just Kate.
And he isn't terrible at it, as can also be verified by Heather Mason and William Tsang and a short string of bewildered (not heartbroken, just confused, he was so nice why didn't he call and so on) muggles back home—but not by Mary Abbey, who is probably still furious with him—
Hullo, Kate. Much nicer than Mary Abbey, Kate is. And she tastes like space beer. She also possibly tastes like Johanna, for all Remus knows, and his knowledge that it's at least possible that she does is what is keeping this from being into a tag about sad and tragic yearnings. He's happy, and also drunk, and since Kate is probably the prettiest girl who will ever let him put his tongue in her mouth and not want anything from him afterwards, he takes full advantage, until a decent number of seconds later the situation catches up to him and he laughs into her mouth instead. ]
Good God, [ he says, like some sort of muggle, and flops back against the arm of the sofa again with just as much drama as before all the snogging, but in a happy way, happy enough to not be at all bothered if this is about to segue into Kate and Sirius making out on him. ] Sharks. [ Lovely creatures. His new favourites. ]
[It should, probably, be weirder: to be sat on a sofa, pressed against one of your friends while she's engaged in deep tongue-kissing with your best mate. Your ear somewhere shoulderish, and your best mate gripping at your shoulder while he does a fine and admirable job of tongue-kissing back. It should be weird but it isn't, really. This is probably just the way that it should be.
French kissing. Lingering French kissing. Ooh la la and c'est parti, Sirius thinks, vaguely, with deep approval for the way that Remus is giving back just as good as he's getting. Or so he would guess, considering he's witness to the snogging only via background, and-- noises. Not jealous of Remus, exactly, but he would like a kiss. Tongue in mouth. The commotion of their kissing reminds him of how unkissed he is at the moment, and he's just starting to think toward that end when Remus elects to come up for air.]
Sharks. [--he agrees, and turns his face to bite at Kate's shoulder. Or, well. To press his teeth against the fabric of her shirt.] Rrghhgh. Izmwnt hxe a gwud khxcier.
[Isn't he a good kisser, that is, through shirt mouthful.]
Sharks. [ Kate agrees without Remus's reverence or Sirius's unintelligibleness, just confirming their existence in the world and possibly the room but definitely the conversation. She reaches back to snarl a hand in Sirius's hair as he bites at her shirt, a chuckle in her voice when she gives his forehead a little shove. ]
Down, boy.
[ He can have another kiss if he likes, somewhat less tonguey and lengthy than his fellow wizard's. Not a comment on his skill, of course, it's just that space beer and warm couches have finally combined and Kate has suddenly realized she's sleepy. Possibly she has been forever, it's that sort of sleepy, that creeps up and drags a wooly blanket over your head so thoroughly it becomes difficult to imagine you could've felt anything else so recently.
She's not especially inclined to fight it, not when there are friends to curl up on, and she tips into Remus's chest, Sirius naturally dominoing over with her. She's not shy about rearranging all three of them to her own comfort, but also strokes fingers through hair more gently and yawns. ]
[ Remus makes a failed attempt at arranging his head in a way that would allow making eye contact with Sirius—Sirius The Recently Kissed, presumably, because of course (presumably) he liked. But Remus' attempt is failed because he has Kate on top of him now, and Sirius by proxy, and in the end moving anything more than his head requires more effort than he's willing to put forth in his current state. He makes eye contact with the ceiling instead. ]
[Sirius, the Recently Kissed, draped over Kate, presses his nose, briefly, to some unidentifiable bit of her. Shoulder? Back? Who cares. His mouth is still a little tingly from where hers had been pressed. However temporary a kiss it had been, it had still been a Good One--good enough to settle him into simply enjoying cuddly friendly dog pile.
Once upon a time, easy physical affection had been difficult. As a cagey little first year, something as simple as an arm thrown casually around his shoulders had been foreign enough to Sirius that he had twitched away--too trained in posture and dry careful expressions of emotion to be at ease. But all of that has been worn away by now, with few and infrequent exceptions--enough to allow for casual snogging, for sitting on your friends. For laying his cheek against Kate's back and reaching around her to try to push at Remus' forehead, as if to push the suggestion back into his brain.]
Boring. I like 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart'. D'you like hearts getting carved out of chests, Kate? I do.
[That's enough that Sirius' earnest question dissolves into what can only be described as giggling, because, alcohol. It's cute. He squashes his nose against Kate's back again to muffle himself.]
hush and enjoy the skin
That's an exaggeration. But his eyes do go wide for a moment before they close on instinct, and it's only because he's caught mid-laugh that there's anywhere close to a seamless transition into slightly-tonguey kissing instead of a moment of frozen-lipped shock. He still ends up gripping at Sirius' shoulder around her—which is weird, probably, but it's a pointy-fingered clutch, akin to if he were taking a step back from something astonishing and needed the moral and physical support, only slightly less dramatic, you know, because it's just snogging and just Kate.
And he isn't terrible at it, as can also be verified by Heather Mason and William Tsang and a short string of bewildered (not heartbroken, just confused, he was so nice why didn't he call and so on) muggles back home—but not by Mary Abbey, who is probably still furious with him—
Hullo, Kate. Much nicer than Mary Abbey, Kate is. And she tastes like space beer. She also possibly tastes like Johanna, for all Remus knows, and his knowledge that it's at least possible that she does is what is keeping this from being into a tag about sad and tragic yearnings. He's happy, and also drunk, and since Kate is probably the prettiest girl who will ever let him put his tongue in her mouth and not want anything from him afterwards, he takes full advantage, until a decent number of seconds later the situation catches up to him and he laughs into her mouth instead. ]
Good God, [ he says, like some sort of muggle, and flops back against the arm of the sofa again with just as much drama as before all the snogging, but in a happy way, happy enough to not be at all bothered if this is about to segue into Kate and Sirius making out on him. ] Sharks. [ Lovely creatures. His new favourites. ]
precious wereshark skin
French kissing. Lingering French kissing. Ooh la la and c'est parti, Sirius thinks, vaguely, with deep approval for the way that Remus is giving back just as good as he's getting. Or so he would guess, considering he's witness to the snogging only via background, and-- noises. Not jealous of Remus, exactly, but he would like a kiss. Tongue in mouth. The commotion of their kissing reminds him of how unkissed he is at the moment, and he's just starting to think toward that end when Remus elects to come up for air.]
Sharks. [--he agrees, and turns his face to bite at Kate's shoulder. Or, well. To press his teeth against the fabric of her shirt.] Rrghhgh. Izmwnt hxe a gwud khxcier.
[Isn't he a good kisser, that is, through shirt mouthful.]
Still schjarks. Rrghhhh. Sxcry.
no subject
Down, boy.
[ He can have another kiss if he likes, somewhat less tonguey and lengthy than his fellow wizard's. Not a comment on his skill, of course, it's just that space beer and warm couches have finally combined and Kate has suddenly realized she's sleepy. Possibly she has been forever, it's that sort of sleepy, that creeps up and drags a wooly blanket over your head so thoroughly it becomes difficult to imagine you could've felt anything else so recently.
She's not especially inclined to fight it, not when there are friends to curl up on, and she tips into Remus's chest, Sirius naturally dominoing over with her. She's not shy about rearranging all three of them to her own comfort, but also strokes fingers through hair more gently and yawns. ]
I want to hear a wizard story.
no subject
[ Remus makes a failed attempt at arranging his head in a way that would allow making eye contact with Sirius—Sirius The Recently Kissed, presumably, because of course (presumably) he liked. But Remus' attempt is failed because he has Kate on top of him now, and Sirius by proxy, and in the end moving anything more than his head requires more effort than he's willing to put forth in his current state. He makes eye contact with the ceiling instead. ]
We could tell her 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune'.
no subject
[Sirius, the Recently Kissed, draped over Kate, presses his nose, briefly, to some unidentifiable bit of her. Shoulder? Back? Who cares. His mouth is still a little tingly from where hers had been pressed. However temporary a kiss it had been, it had still been a Good One--good enough to settle him into simply enjoying cuddly friendly dog pile.
Once upon a time, easy physical affection had been difficult. As a cagey little first year, something as simple as an arm thrown casually around his shoulders had been foreign enough to Sirius that he had twitched away--too trained in posture and dry careful expressions of emotion to be at ease. But all of that has been worn away by now, with few and infrequent exceptions--enough to allow for casual snogging, for sitting on your friends. For laying his cheek against Kate's back and reaching around her to try to push at Remus' forehead, as if to push the suggestion back into his brain.]
Boring. I like 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart'. D'you like hearts getting carved out of chests, Kate? I do.
brief interjection
brief response to brief interjection
Hairy Shnrk.