Unexpected as it might have been, Sirius’ reply wasn’t inherently startling to Remus; instead, his smile widened, humoured and intrigued.<br/>“Yeah?” Remus challenged with a grin as he took a step back, eyes continuously returning onto Sirius’.<br/>Reaching off to the side, Remus flicked his wrist a few times to extinguish the flame; the still-warm matchstick fizzed out when he discarded it in his emptied glass.<br/>Despite the tone of Sirius’ voice, Remus found it difficult to close the distance between them having already stepped out of Sirius’ immediate proximity. Instead, he eased back against his barstool, matchbook still in his hand as he flipped it between his fingers, tapping it against his thigh.<br/>“‘you promise?”<br/>Although the question wasn’t intended as rhetorical, the context around them could soon force it to be. Remus had the impression that he had barely sat down again when, out of the corner of his eye, his view of the room was obstructed.<br/>Turning towards the shape, Remus’ smile remained easily on his lips; it took him to recognize the man beside him for his smile to falter, a slight sense of disorientation by the interruption.<br/>With great familiarity that made Remus’ skin crawl in a way that it had never before, the man rested a hand on the bartop behind Remus.<br/>“Hey,” the man greeted, not unkindly; Remus took notice of how he offered Sirius a little apologetic smile, too, though he didn’t seem particularly guilt ridden.<br/>When he continued, he only directed himself to Remus, glancing towards the clock above the bar, inching towards the new year.<br/>“Are you, uh, available?”