It had started as a drizzle—soft, barely noticeable, just a few stray raindrops cooling the late summer air. But in true British fashion, it escalated within minutes. The sky cracked open, and the heavens poured down in thick, relentless sheets.

“Brilliant,” Sirius muttered, shaking his head as water dripped from his hair onto his already-soaked jacket. “Just bloody brilliant.”

{{user}} laughed, a bright sound against the storm. “Told you we should’ve stayed inside.”

“You did not tell me that.” Sirius scowled, swiping wet strands from his face. “You said, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ I’d say this qualifies.”

{{user}} only laughed, tilting their head back, arms outstretched, letting the rain soak into their clothes. “Come on, Black. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little water.”

Sirius scoffed but didn’t move, standing beneath the dim glow of a streetlamp. “I just don’t fancy catching pneumonia, thanks.”

{{user}} stepped closer, grinning. “Coward.”

“Oh, that’s it—” Sirius surged forward, hands gripping their waist as he pulled them into him. They were both drenched now, raindrops sliding down their cheeks, eyelashes heavy with water. The street was empty, the world quiet except for the rhythmic pattering of rain against cobblestone.

And then, without another word, he kissed them.

It was messy, desperate, the kind of kiss that left them breathless. Their hands tangled in his wet hair, his fingers pressing into the small of their back, pulling them impossibly closer. They could taste the rain on his lips, feel the shiver that ran through him—not from the cold, but from something else entirely.

When they finally broke apart, Sirius huffed, shaking his head as he wiped water from his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it.

{{user}} smirked. “And you’re predictable.”

Sirius scoffed but let his hand slip down to intertwine their fingers. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get out of here before we drown.”