Lust
cerasi

Sirius swallowed as he ran his hands up Remus' leg, then over his torso. He gripped Remus by the back of the neck and lifted him up a little for another kiss. He felt Remus' hands grip his own legs and lithe fingers scraped over the flesh on his bare arse.

Remus' chest rose up in the thin moonlight, and Sirius' eyes caught silver there. He lowered one of his hands and chased a scar from one side of Remus' chest to the other, playing up here and there, so delicate, so careful. Remus' eyes closed and his mouth opened in a gasp at the coldness of the man's hands.

There was nothing painful, there, nothing new. It was the full moon in a few days, and the wolf's lust was building up again. He and Sirius had spoken of this, and they had an arrangement. A careful arrangement for dealing with the wolf's overbearing lust come this time in the cycle. Give in.

'Now,' Remus whispered, his voice thick with breath. Sirius nodded and looked into Remus' eyes. He could see something lurking in there, some other being, but still, he could see his Remus. For tonight, the wolf could take the Padfoot in Sirius, and Sirius would take the Remus in Remus. He gripped Remus tight and the play began.