James raised his glass in toast to that comment, and then tossed back the whiskey. He poured them each another glass, because apparently it was going to take more than one glass to get Sirius to talk about his prodigal brother. Not that James would blame him; if Regulus had been his brother, he wouldn't have wanted to talk about him either. He really was a giant wanker, no matter what else he'd done. That much couldn't have changed over the last six years.
That didn't change the fact that Regulus was Sirius' brother. James hadn't thought much of Regulus in their youth, but he had a rather different perspective of brothers now that he had children of his own. He wanted Harry and Noah to always be there for the other, despite disagreements and even if one of them turned out to be a giant wanker as an adult. Just because James was pretty sure he'd never come to like Reuglus Black, he would always be Sirius' brother, and they needed to mend the breach between them now.
"Padfoot. Come on. It's me. If you can't talk to me about the fact that your brother is alive, then who can you talk to?" He pushed the refilled glass towards Sirius. "So, no more of these one-word answers."