Sirius stating his departure made something within Remus surge; even to him, it was hard to distinguish whether it was an objection to Sirius changing or Sirius<span style="font-style: italic">leaving</span>, even for a few odd minutes. Instinctively, it had Remus reaffirming his hold on Sirius’ waist, once again reminded of the corset, the boning firm beneath his fingers.<br/>“Don’t bother,” Remus dismissed, his infliction easy and almost laughing. Alcohol and adrenaline, however, mixed in his gaze, his interest in Sirius bright and unrestrained.<br/>“Let’s go home,” he parroted, but as his fingers slipped over the subtle ribbing of the corset, it suddenly struck Remus precisely what sentiment it was he had danced around.<br/>A grin pulled at his lips. “Let me.”