Sirius sensed the blanket of arms approaching before he felt them - the cackle of warm electricity that ran between them, like a magnet.

"Hey." A soft voice, Remus', whispered into the nape of his neck, blowing soft feather-like kisses against the frozen skin. "What are you doing out here? You'll freeze to death."

In all truth, he couldn't remember. Staring across the ink black lake at midnight, waiting, waiting, waiting, was hardly an act normal people took part in, but it seemed important, a necessity, to watch the thunderous heavens blow, and slice at him with their thick winds.

"Do you ever feel" A throaty voice, so far from the usual boom, seeped from Sirius' lips. "As if the world is caving in, and all you can do is stand by and watch? Like you're someone else's puppet, being pulled this way and that at their whim?"

"Very deep thoughts for this late, Sirius." Lips tease the skin again, drawing a breathy moan from Sirius' lips. "What's happened?"

"A message from mother; she's found out about us." He spat the name, a curse from his lips. "People are going to talk..." Sirius turned in the arms of his lover, facing the coy smile on the brunet's features.

"Then let them talk, Pads. Don't overanalyze these things, thats my job." The arms wound tighter, pressing cold, heated bodies together. Lips met hastily, the murmur "let them talk" echoing soundlessly.

"But what if they attack you, or get to you because-"

"Pads. It hasn't happened. It won't happen. Please, just please, ignore the outside world right now. Ignore the people. Ignore your mother. Its just you and me." Remus pressed their foreheads together lazily, letting silver metal meet golden honey. He rolled forward, till lips met again.

Hands spread slowly, caressing every inch, seeping life back into icy skin. Sirius moaned lightly into his lover's lips, threading his hands through the tawny hair, and tugging slightly to clutch at what little control he had.

The black lake beside them dissolved, melting into nonexistence, as the ground fizzed away and the skies became a distant memory. The skin beneath their fingers was the only reality.

Warmth spread slowly, surrounding Sirius' legs and arms and lips and soul and heart, breathing life into his lungs, fire into his belly and a blissful, sweet, fantastic, white hot emptiness into his mind.

Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. Oscar Wilde