Regulus inhales a little at the touch, grasping his hand and threading their fingers and clinging to it as if it's a lifeline. Maybe in this case, it is. When he moves forward it's not an energetic surge nor a frightened shuffle, but something in between. Now that his touch is accepted he slings his free arm around Sirius' back, fingers curling tight in the fabric across his back. "I missed you all the time," he whispers, "but I wanted you to be okay the most."