His momentary twinge of reminder that he had not been the one to draw Faelan from the woods alive was swallowed first by gratitude that this Sirius had, and then completely replaced by another memory. A memory of a morning in the shower, and sex, and Ha--
He shook his head and tried to rid it of the images. They weren't quick to leave and when they did, they left his heart hammering a little and blood tricking from his head straight to his lap. Thank God for robes.
"Ah, right. Not for sex," he managed, though his voice was a little lower than it should be.