Wow, I loved this. What a great pairing, these two damaged men who can almost meet each other scar for scar. The pacing is excellent, your style ditto. And that powerful ending. Well done.
Lines I loved:
Moody is a man of few words, but he has a hundred varieties of silence
Remus thinks that Moody has always seen more than he lets on. This would make a fitting epitaph for Mad-Eye.
Moody is older, tougher, so perhaps he'll get shoved back against a wall, or pressed down onto a bed. He doesn't anticipate what actually happens: the way Moody looks at him a moment too long in the flickering light, then raises a hand to run his thumb down Remus' cheek. Love this! So unexpected and yet so IC.
Moody's hand is callused, as though the war has scuffed every inch of his skin. Great image.