The rain pours down outside Remus’ window, a welcome summer storm. He loves the way it makes the garden even greener, like a jungle. Sitting at the kitchen table, he has an urge to open the creaky wooden door and step outside, run through the wet grass and feel the rain soak through his clothes and hair, feel it slide down his skin. But afterwards he would have to dry off with a towel, brush his hair, and change into new clothes. So Remus resists the urge and stays put in the kitchen, watching the drama through glass.
Sirius comes home late from work. Creeping up behind Remus while he washes dishes, Sirius puts his arms around his lover’s waist and his head on his shoulder. The storm has long gone. Remus closes his eyes and remembers the sound of the rain.