"You’ve got the patience of a saint," Sirius whispered in Remus’s ear, wrapping an arm around his back, and Remus huffed a laugh, hot against Sirius’s neck. Remus lifted his head and looked at Sirius, his eyelids heavy, his lips parted. Their faces were a whisper apart, closer than ever. Sirius could feel Remus’s shallow breath against his skin, see the honey-brown freckles dusted across his cheeks. The music, which had been fast and rhythmic, eased into something slow and sensual, and Remus bit his lower lip.