Title: Mishappening Mishaps
Summary: Sirius has one of his randomly random "parties" that isn't so much a party as an excuse for some destructive inebriation. Or inebriated destruction. Who really knows.
Pairings: Implied RemusSirius, some JamesSirius flirting type shit. Not really, though.

"Ah, Moony, come in, come in, and gaze upon my humble adobe."

"Abode."

"Whatever. Call it what you will, just make sure there is much gazing going on."

Sirius was having one of his randomly random "parties" at his place, and Remus was the first of the three guests to show up, right on time, of course. Sirius' parties mostly consisted of inebriated destruction, along with some destructive inebriation, so it was sure to be an interesting night. Or at the very least, a night that was dangerous to Remus' health.

"No more thinking, mister. In the loft you go," said Sirius, grabbing Remus' arm and dragging him into the building.

Remus did in fact gaze around the place, as he was ordered to before. On the floor, in front of the fireplace, there sat a bowl of rotted bananas and a pair of pink silk panties. A few feet from that were about half a dozen empty bottles. Alcohol, juice, alcohol... pickle juice. Remus did his gazing, but he decided it would be best not to ask about what his eyes saw. He felt he really did not need to know.

---

Remus sat by the fireplace, now banana free, and wondered for the umpteenth time why on earth there was a fire in it. Fires were commonly found in fireplaces, of course, but it was warm outside, a nice spring evening, and the thing really did not need to be lit.

Then again, Sirius never had made any sort of sense. Of course he would keep a fire going unnecessarily.

"I am sure you are fascinated by those hot, sexy flames, Remus, but it must be rude in some country to stare at such things while a party is going on," Sirius reached down, grabbing Remus' arms and dragging him up. "You haven't had a thing to drink all night. Peter is going to out drink you, and that is a very sad thing."

Remus glanced over at Peter, who was jollily singing some sort of children's song with James. The two were dancing around like loons. Very, very drunken loons. These people wasted no time in getting liquored up, did they?

Remus just raised an eyebrow at Sirius, who attempted to push it back down with his finger. That didn't work, so he just licked Remus, who was so repulsed by the action that his eyebrows scrunched up. Good enough.

"Come now, Moony, let alcohols fill your mind," Sirius said. "They don't like your grammar much, it is far too grammary, but you should get on just fine. More than fine. Fine...er."

"You are a nutter. I hope you know that," Remus said, laughing and trying to pull Sirius' arms off of him. How they got there, he really did not know.

"That is probably a good idea, Remus," James piped in. "Padfoot here might get some awfully nasty ideas and try to have his wicked way with you."

"You would know."

"But of cou- Hey! What is that suppose to mean?"

"I think Remus here is trying to imply that we have done things very much offensive to the Babel."

"Bible, Sirius. Bible. How drunk are you?"

"Not nearly enough. Prongs is still not attractive enough to have drunken make outs with."

"...Right."

---

James was using a lamp as a drum. Peter was wearing the lampshade that went to said lamp. Sirius was grumbling about how he had no lamp-related objects to amuse himself with. Remus decided now was the perfect time to remove those clothes Sirius had placed in his dishwasher from their current location.

"It should be far more effective, I think," Sirius had said. Remus had to disagree.

He was placing them in a basket when Sirius apparently decided to take a break from his sulking. "Remus, what on earth are you doing?" he asked. "Those clothes do not appreciate your manhandling them."

"I thought I would go clean them the proper way. You know. With a machine that is for washing clothes."

"You and your cleaning. We should put an apron and a dress on you, then you'd look the part of a housewife too," Sirius said, placing his clothes back in the dishwasher. Where they belonged, of course.

"He would need heels, too," Peter chimed in.

"And a long, flowing wig," James said. Remus noticed his drumming had stopped and glanced into the living room to see a very much shattered and broken form of a lamp. Poor thing never had a chance.

"Look everyone, I'm Remus! Oh, what a lovely feather duster, I simply must use it THIS INSTANT!" Sirius twirled a nonexistent duster, "dusting" over Remus' ass, causing much grumbling, and of course over the very much existent dust of his loft. "Won't you please pick up that napkin, Prongs, clean floors give me a big, raging boner, you know."

James laughed. Remus looked scandalized. Peter was ever so confused. He laughed anyway.

"It is an enjoyment and a pleasure to clean my home with a vacuum. LA LA LA!!" Having no prior knowledge of how to actually use a vacuum, Sirius just sort of waved his arms around in the air. It was quite the sight and caused even Remus to burst out into the laughing.

---

Peter had passed out in the kitchen, lampshade still firmly in place on his head. James had hijacked Sirius' bed, claiming guests got the first choice when it came to sleeping arrangements. After much grumbling, complaining, whining, and sulking, Sirius had decided the couch made a suitable place to sleep.

That left Remus, who decided he might as well find a comfortable place on the floor. He stole a few pillows from James, much to his chagrin, and went back in to the living room. Just as he was about to lay down, another pillow hit him square in the back.

"Can I help you?"

"There's room on the couch, stupid. No need to sleep on the floor, you might catch something," Sirius mumbled from the couch.

"Alright."

Remus lay down on the couch, his head on the opposite end from Sirius', legs entwining with the other boy's.

"Goodnight," Sirius whispered.

"Night," Remus said back.