Work Text:
They fucked surrealistically in an empty classroom when he came to see Moody that December.
It was quick, rough, desperate, as though Moody had gone without for years, not months. They lost buttons and all good sense. They did things he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams that Moody would go in for. It was the best he'd ever had.
That's all he can think about after Moody—his Moody—comes back from Hogwarts, the first time they lie carefully down in bed together. The pleasure of it, the hunger.
He lets Moody think he never cared enough to visit.