At first, Sirius was distracted and only half listening. He kept looking sideways at Remus: at his neck, his lips, his hands that had roved over Sirius’s body all night, at his hips that had pressed and grinded against his. But soon, like always, he got swept up and lost in Remus himself, with his sarcastic, laughing demeanor and sweet, funny kindness, and found himself laughing and talking, too.