Remus glowed under the fairy lights; his eyes, his lips, his golden skin. God, he was beautiful. He was so beautiful it ached. How had Sirius never noticed the pain before? It coursed under his skin and throbbed between every rib, like a thumb pressed into a bruise. He thought about going home with Remus, of somehow being in his orbit without touching him, and the ache intensified. He should preserve a little bit of his dignity. He should sleep on his living room floor and punish himself for his stupidity.