#decayer

Remus was a looming presence pressed against the water-stained wall behind him, eyes whiskey dark and burning against Sirius’s neck, hands immaculate and pristine, nails clean and filed and boots laced. He smelled like wolf, like wet fur and pine needles and something dark and heady and musky. Under that, a bit like raw meat, a bit like wet pavement, scents Sirius could feel in the back of his throat, heady and addictive.