Remus was already pulling on his dress jacket when Sirius finally got himself arsed up. It drew Remus to a standstill, a split-second decision to wait for him, even though Remus might have made it on time if he left now.<br/>Remus would swear that it had nothing to do with the flashes of tattooed skin suddenly visible between the panels of Sirius’ shirt, though his gaze did dip, distracted.<br/>It was difficult to feel a real sense of urgency when Sirius’ moved so leisurely, seeing it not only in his motions but hearing it in his words. So used to the name<span style="font-style: italic">Mulligan</span>, it took Remus too long to place<span style="font-style: italic">Arlo</span>into their conversation. Feeling like the moment to comment on it had escaped him, Remus restlessly shifted, finally getting to put on his shoes.