It was all too much, and too quickly; it was a decade of suppressed impulses all spilling over at once, and Remus didn't allow himself to linger at the implications, readily following Sirius out of the bar.<br/>There was something exhilarating about Sirius' explicit interest, spoken with both words and with touchs, and Remus could hardly keep up with it. Sirius' excitement seemed so at par with his own, making Remus' head spin, knowing that - while his own attraction to Sirius had grown over the course of both his childhood, adolescence and adult life - Sirius hadn't known him in a way he found attractive until recently. It made Remus' skin flush hot, giddy at the prospect of<span style="font-style: italic">Sirius</span>, and of being desired by him so intently so easily.<br/>Remus felt certain he would have stumbled over thin air had Sirius' hand not been in his, pulling him onwards.<br/>As soon as the space allowed for it, Remus diminished the distance between them by a pace, letting go of Sirius' hand, only to instead reach out for the small of his back. The touch was futile, barely catching the fabric of Sirius' shirt, but with the clear purpose of urging Sirius forward rather than inviting him into an embrace.<br/>"I always like that best," he said, once the distance permitted it, amounting to a considerable delay. It made his grin go boyish as he glanced over at Sirius, inexplicably thrilled at the feeling of nostalgia between a whirlwind of new impressions. His palm settled flat against Sirius' spine, and yet there was no suggestiveness to his voice, the laugh in Remus' voice making him sound younger than his age. "Having you to myself."