They kiss, gray clouds and the green leaves of the big oak tree swaying above them. The sky may be gloomy, but they are anything but.
This tree is theirs, one they have shared everything under - first glance, first kiss, first -
The thunder sounds and Remus looks up, briefly, and sees the world as he hasn’t for years - not since before Sirius was taken away. This feeling has been gone for so long, buried in the depths of his heart. But now, now he has never felt so alive, so free; with Sirius showering his uncovered skin with butterfly soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings into his ears-hair-skin.
His shirt is gone, cast aside for now, and he is trying to wriggle Sirius’ trousers off, too loose from thirteen years of Azkaban.
They are both undressed, caressing one another, same as the first time, but with an underlying sense of want-need-missedyousomuch. To them, nothing else matters, not the voice of the storm above, not the knowing of war rising all around them. It is just RemusandSirius.