The transition of Sirius moving to lay his head in Remus' lap was pretty fluid. Remus adapted accordingly and was able to use both his his hands to massage his scalp then. There was very little that Remus thought he might find more comforting for him than the rhythmic movements of his fingers running through Sirius' hair. Anything else that would elicit such feelings of comfort, amazingly enough, still revolved around Sirius. No surprise there. It just felt especially wonderful because it'd been such a long time.
The Thing was complicated even though it wasn't really all that complicated at all. They'd reached a point in their bond where they could either keep doing the dance they'd been engaged in for the better part of several years, or they could finally own up to what they both knew full well was going on and embrace it. The latter was of course what Remus wanted, but the former was safer, more logical, and a way to keep what they had without potentially damaging it. For Remus, he believed Sirius deserved far better. Far better than anything he could offer him. It was stupid; Sirius was the only one who could decide that, but that was how Remus was wired to think. Settling comfortably into The Thing was where they'd been staying, but sometimes, he wondered if they were depriving themselves. ...Of course they were.
"Have you?" He asked. "Will you share your thoughts with me?"