Sirius likes to kiss when the beat drops. It’s to the point where he has to hold Remus back until he’s satisfied with the song:
“Sirius, come on—“
But Sirius cuts him off, slapping a hand over his mouth and tilting his head to the side to listen like a focused dog.
“Hold on, we have to wait, it has to be perfect…”
Remus rolls his eyes and scoff under Sirius’ hand, but his cheeks are hot and Sirius can feel his smile twitching under his fingers.
Finally, the music swells and the pair lock eyes as Sirius lowers his hand slowly, instead slotting his arms around Remus’ shoulders.
“Okay, you can kiss me now,” he whispered, barely audible over the crash of drums and sweet melodies.
Remus wastes no time in bending down, their lips colliding as his hands snake over Sirius’ hips and back.
Their bodies melding together; infinite.
