Today was the kind of day that Remus Lupin loved best.

He was lying under his favorite tree by the lake, a giant oak with a wide trunk and large, sweeping branches that let filtered light come dancing down to play across his face.

The clouds were building up thick and tall in the sky, a deep bruise-blue that promised rain.

It smelled like rain, and tasted like rain, fresh and clean and a little like dirt as he breathed it in and it settled on his tongue.

Suddenly Sirius came running and tumbling onto him, knocking the air out of his lungs and landing with legs around Remus's waist.

And the smell of rain faded to nothing as he breathed Sirius in, let their lips meet and tongues slide and the taste of Sirius settled there.

And now the rain was falling and wetting them through, dripping through the leaves and running in tracks from Sirius's hair and the sweet taste of Sirius was met with the sweet taste of rain.

Today was the kind of kisses that Remus Lupin loved best.