            Sirius chuckled. "A notion I’d rather not entertain. But what I mean to say is...Merlin, fuck—this is hard, isn’t it?" He raked back his hair, and Hermione could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the jerkiness of the motion. Tentatively, Hermione shifted closer and ran her other hand up his arm—bare, she realized, as he had not pulled on a sleep shirt. Sirius relaxed into her touch as her fingers found a home at the nape of his neck, playing absently with his damp curls. "I know what it’s like to feel things for someone you’re not supposed to," Sirius rushed out, his chest caving as he finally exhaled.