Sirius always loved intimacy. Not sex, intimacy. He loved feeling the touch of your skin on his when you wake up in the morning, the feeling when his arms wrap around your waist at night, the moments when it's just you and him.

On this particular day, you were cooking dinner, the smell of vodka pasta filling the air. You felt arms wrapping around you from behind and a cold cheek resting on your shoulder. You hear that familiar, softly gruff voice

"What are you upto, pretty girl?"