Chairs on the Ceiling

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Chairs on the Ceiling



Remus woke up for find Sirius splayed across the foot of his bed, half clutching an empty glass, whose content had spilled over the carpet. Sirius's shirt was torn at the shoulder, there was dirt on his face, and bits of twig and leaf in his hair. On his own bed across the room, James was in a similar state of disarray, and a large, nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey stood on the desk beside a stack of books. The desk chairs were missing. Remus looked up and found them. Permanent sticking charms had been applied to the bottom of the feet of the chairs and there they hung from the ceiling. He stared up at them, unsure exactly what the hell to think about it, when he heard a murmur -- "Get over here and kiss me before I go mad with wanting you."

Remus looked down at Sirius, whose bleary eyes were all red and staring at him slightly unfocused. "Why are there chairs on the ceiling?" he asked.

"Are there?" he rotated his head with a groan to look, his chin pressed to his neck to see, and he blinked up at them uncertainly for several moments before rolling his head back as it was, "Bloody hell, wonder when we did that?"

Remus reached down and took the cup from Sirius's hands. "I'm guessing about halfway through that bottle."

Sirius's breath came out like a laugh and he half-closed his eyes. "Turn the lights out Moony. It's ruddy bright in here."

"It's called sunlight, and I'm afraid I'm not capable of turning the sun off," Remus replied.

Sirius swung his arm over his eyes. "Fuck the sun."

Remus put the cup down on the nightstand. "Any chance of you explaining to me exactly what happened last night?" he asked.

"Prongs and I had a little fun is all," Sirius mumbled from under his arm, "Apparently we stuck chairs to the ceiling... There might've been a little bit of drinking involved."

"If by a little you mean you consumed enough Firewhiskey to drink even Hagrid under the table, then sure," Remus said. He got up and used his wand to siphon the spilled firewhiskey from the carpet.

"Hagrid wasn't there, but I bloody drank James out of the running. Poor little bugger. Barely had a drop and he was pissed."

Remus didn't reply. He grabbed onto Sirius's legs and swung them onto the bed properly, Sirius groaning as his body rotated about on the mattress. "You've ripped your shirt," Remus said.

Sirius looked over at his shoulder at the tear, then looked at Remus. "Mend it, Moony."

"I'll mend it later after you've taken it off," Remus answered.

"I'll take it off now," Sirius offered. "And my trousers, too. And I'll take off your shirt and your trousers and I'll lay on top of you so we both fit in the bloody bed and I'll snog you sore. Get over here." He wiggled his fingers, beckoning Remus over. "Or, even better, we'll strip these clothes and then you can come and you lay on top of me, for a change, so I've got all the space in the bed... I want to feel the weight of you on top of me, Moony."

Remus smirked at him. "It's morning, you blithering idiot. You've partied through the night. You'll have to feel my weight later."

"It's morning already? Bloody hell, is that why the sun's out? But I want it to still be night. That night didn't count, as I don't remember it." He waved his wand, "There, I've just made it midnight again. Now come... I want to sleep with you."

Remus blinked. "Sirius -- I don't think it's such a great idea to -- I mean, we've only just -- only a month -- and --"

"I mean literally sleep you filthy-minded wolf. I'm far too drunk and tired to bugger you."

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