Remus relaxed into Sirius' touch, a shudder running down his spine mirroring the way Sirius' fingers carded through his hair. Both Sirius' words and touch were beyond Remus' comprehension, continuously feeling like Sirius - this Sirius, at least - was a mere figment of Remus' imagination.<br/>"Right," he finally gave in, reluctantly so and in spite of the heat that had pooled in the pit of his stomach. "If that's a promise, then alright."<br/>It took everything in him to pull away from the caress, only managing to do so having replaced the touch with another. Gingerly reaching to trail a line across Sirius' midriff, the touch had no other purpose than to confirm that Sirius was really there.<br/>With the touch as an anchoring point, Remus finally got off the bed. Once on his feet, Sirius became out of reach, and subsequently, Remus didn't have any reason to linger.<br/>Peering into the closet, Remus made quick of dressing himself in the mismatched clothes he had abandoned almost two months ago. With a huff, he pulled on a Christmas jumper that had still been in season when had had left for the camps. The sweater smelled of dust and mothballs, making the hairs on Remus' neck stand with the realisation of just how long he had been away.<br/>"I have to do laundry," he commented, rather urnemarkful given the timing of his arrival. In reality, Remus was specifically referring to the clothes staring back at him from deep within the closet.