Two hours later, they’d showered, dressed, and even managed to make the French toast that Sirius had been wanting, standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter again, just as they had the night before. But this time, Sirius didn’t have to swat away his desire to touch Remus. Instead, they were happily lost in each other, kissing and wrapping their arms around each other’s waists between every cracked egg, every sizzling piece of bread, every drizzle of maple syrup, and every soapy dish they washed afterwards.