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An unfortunate side effect of Sirius’ time in Azkaban was that, for all intents and purposes, he was a twenty-one year old stuck in the body of a thirty-five year old. Granted, his personality was much more subdued than it had been, but when his true self came out, he was incredible unpredictable His pranking nature came back in full force, leaving all who visited them in fear of being stuck to furniture, drinking a potion, or any number of combinations of stink bombs that Sirius had concocted. His proclivity for mischief often led to shouts of surprise or anger sounding through their halls.
Remus traipsed through the Manor, book in one hand and tea in another, when the sound reached his ears.
“Sirius!” Throughout his time as Harry’s professor, his parental instincts had kicked in and he found himself very attuned to Harry’s emotions. So, at this call of distress, Remus’ gait sped up considerably, taking him down the hall and into the sitting room. Images of Harry, locked in a vision from Voldemort, flooded his mind. “Sirius, cut it out!”
Luckily, his worries were for nothing. Instead, Remus found Harry on the sofa with an essay in his lap. Sirius, ever embodying his canine form, sat directly beside him, wand out, poking a blue-purple tendril of magic at various points on his godson’s body. He stood frozen in the doorway, almost not believing that his oldest friend could be so immature. Sirius looked over and gave Remus a toothy grin, once again manipulating the Nettlous charm. This time, the magical digit ran itself down the back of Harry’s neck, and the teen’s body tensed. “Sirius, I swear! I have to finish this essay!”
“Ugh!” Sirius groaned, dropping his wand and dramatically falling onto his back on the couch. “You’re no fun! All academics, no play. I bet even Moony over there would hang out with me.” Sirius’ eyebrow quirked up, and he stood with a grin. “In fact, Moony, I’ve been meaning to test something. I heard through the grapevine that werewolves are supposed to have a stronger sense of touch. Want to test the theory?” He spun his wand in a circle in the air, catching it with a flair of sparks. Remus rolled his eyes, but smiled when he saw the incredulous look Harry was throwing his godfather. Remus knew for a fact that only sight and smell were advanced for werewolves when not transformed, and clearly Harry wasn’t buying it either.
If it would keep that smile on Sirius’ face though, the one that had been absent until Harry had come to live with them, he would do just about anything. “Fine, why not?” He set his book and mug down.
“Yes!” Sirius grasped his wrist, pulling him into the middle of the room. “Close your eyes, arms out in front of you, palms up.” Remus put himself in position, feeling stupider by the minute. “Alright, now…” Sirius trailed off, muttering something under his breath. “Can you feel this?” Remus concentrated on every part of his body, trying to find out where Sirius was touching him, but…
“No. Don’t feel anything.”
Sirius huffed a laugh. “Okay, how about this?” This time, Remus felt the barest of brushes. “Yeah, left forearm.”
“Yeah? And this one?” This time, the feeling was much clearer, slipping up his neck and into his ear.
“Sirius! Ugh.” His eyes flew open and Sirius chuckled. Harry, completely distracted from his essay, was watching them with a smile. Remus ached to think how rare the sight was.
“Close your eyes!” Sirius laughed.
“No, I’m not falling for that again.”
“C’mon, Moony, just one more.” Sirius tilted his head, his eyes going wide. Merlin, if only he could say no to that face.
“Fine.” He relented, closing his eyes again.
“Arms out.” Remus put his arms out. “Okay, here we go. Can you feel this?” Remus tried his hardest, focusing all his mind on finding the brush of Sirius’s magic, but nothing was there.
“This one’s tough,” he heard Harry say. There was something tight in Harry voice, like he was trying to hold in some emotion, and Remus really should have questioned that further. He concentrated even further, and was about to give up, when a large, furry body collided with his, sending him sprawling on the floor.
Harry burst out in laughter, the sound so familiar from his own days with James. Padfoot’s weight rested firmly on top of him, his long tongue leaving wet tracks against his face. “Sirius! You’re disgusting! Get off!”
Harry’s laughter, now almost hysterical, was joined by Sirius’ as he changed back, still laying completely on top of Remus.
“You felt that one, did you?” he huffed between laughs.
The laughter was contagious, Remus couldn’t help but join in. “Oh, you little-” Remus tried to throw his knee up and into Sirius’ crown jewels, but he was blocked with a quick twist of Sirius’ hips.
“What’s this? The great Moony going for a cheap crotch shot? And to think I was going to give you a reward for playing along.”
“Oh, really, a reward? And what might that be?”
“This,” Sirius said, and pressed his lips firmly to Remus’. The kiss was full of that youthful energy, and Remus melted into it. He brought a hand up to tangle in the back of Sirius’ hair. His mouth opened, letting Sirius’ tongue join his.
“Hey! Mentally scarring the godson over here!” Harry cried out. Sirius pulled away laughing. He held himself up on one arm to wave his fingers in the air. “Can you feel that Moony?”
“What?”
“The teenage embarrassment. Mmm, I could live off that.” He laughed and leaned back in for another kiss, ignoring Harry’s groans across the room.