"I'm warning you," Sirius says, backing away from you. "Don't come any closer."
You raise your eyebrows and shake your head. "I don't know what you're talking about." He stops moving when the couch is between you. "Bit rude not to kiss your girlfriend hello, though."
He scoffs. "Oh, that's how you want to play it?" His dark eyes narrow at you. "Your fingers are practically twitching, sweetheart."
You wiggle them at him. You do this dance every time you get home later than him -- your cold fingers will find their way underneath his shirt. It's just a matter of time.
"It's not my fault you're so warm," you tell him. He rolls his eyes. "What's a girl to do when she's got a perfectly good boyfriend to defrost her poor, cold hands?"
"Not stick her hands up his shirt," he mutters. You put on a frown that's only half fake -- your day was long and you do want a proper greeting from him. "Oh, please don't give me that face," he says. He runs a hand through his dark hair and then over the stubble on his jaw. "You know very well what that face does to me."
You start to edge your way around the couch to stand closer to him. "If I promise not to stick my hands up your shirt will you give me a hello kiss?" You keep your pout in place and only feel a little bat at how quickly Sirius softens. With everyone else he's a bit rude, a bit prickly, a bit harsh. But for some reason, around you, he melts. It makes your heart constrict every time.
He holds his own hands out. You don't get it at first, and he makes a grabby motion in the air. "Oh," you say. "Sirius, I was mostly kidding, I won't lunge for you --"
He grabs your hands out of the air and brings them together between his. "Don't be silly," he chides. "Fuck, these are cold."
You're much closer than you were, stepping into his space so he doesn't have to reach as far as he rubs his palms over yours, trying to warm them. "Forgot my gloves," you say, softly. He blows warm air onto your fingers.
"That was stupid," he says. You laugh, bright and loud, and he grins at you and winks. "Alright, they're not so bad now. I think I can take it." He gently grabs your wrists and brings them to his waistline before letting go to reach for your face.
It only takes you a few seconds to get his meaning. You smirk at him as you slide your slightly less cold hands under his hemline and settle them on his back. He shivers once, cursing under his breath but doesn't pull away. Sirius brushes his nose against yours and your own breath hitches. His mouth turns up at one end.
"You trying to crawl into my shirt back there?" he says. His thumbs gently stroke the skin under your eyes and you press your fingertips into his spine, reveling in the stuttering exhale you pull from him with just your touch. Teasing aside, this is your favorite place, and Sirius knows it. In his arms in your home after a long day, his touch soothing any worries you might have and making time fall away for just a few minutes. Nothing matters but this, right here.
"What're you going to do to stop me?" you whisper.
"You still want that hello kiss?" he says, not giving you a chance to reply before his lips are on yours. Any lingering chill disappears as your veins turn to fire, as your heart starts to beat faster. Silly man, you think. Lovely man. Yours.