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"And this," Remus said, holding one out, "is a Peasgood Nonsuch."
Sirius took the proffered motley apple and sniffed it. "That would be a good name for our first child." He took a huge bite, closing his eyes as he chewed. "Iff eh-ee oo." A trickle of juice ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin, and Remus watched in fascination. "'ip," Sirius said, gesturing with the apple. "Tickles."
Remus glanced around the orchard, checking that they were alone, then leaned forward and ran his tongue along the trail of autumn sweetness, tracing Sirius' mouth like a whisper.