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They’re so close. Sirius can feel Remus’ hot, bated breath on his skin. He can see every one of Remus’ honey freckles and the white spiderwebs that course through his scar tissue. He can hear every one of Remus’ sharp inhales and shaky exhales; It’s the only sound he can hear above his own heart racing through his veins.
And his heart is doing that —racing. But it’s not like a thud, thud, thud in his chest or even a soft, fluttering sound like a warm, Irish lilt. The sound is more like a swoosh,...
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