[Sirius starts to say, and then he laughs. Maybe he'll change his middle name. The initials would be less amusing, but Jehoshaphat might just make up for that. He does sort of a pleased wriggle at arm scritching, mmghr, quiet happy growl, as if he is indeed covered in fur at the moment--but that changes pretty quickly to a snort of laughter, as he remembers Jehoshaphat.
He keep laughing, generally--all through being maneuvered aside so Kate can crawl into Remus' lap--which, well done, Kate Bishop, always like a girl who takes initiative--and even through some of that pep talk, though he does downgrade it to a quieter general chuckling, mostly so he can hear. And he smiles, slowly, sleepily, pleased that someone else sees good bits where he sees good bits, and then maybe some.
But still.]
You're drunk. [Agreement from Remus' lower side.] You're ssooo drunk. Both of you.
[And he laughs, again, when the bottle falls on the floor. The smell of whisky is pleasantly pungently everywhere, at least for a brief whiff. Sirius thinks momentarily about rolling over onto the floor and going for it. That plan seems hard, so. He doesn't. Yet. Instead he squirms at the pinching.]
Nnngh. Yes. No. Yes, he's so virile. The virilest. Always leaves 'em satisfied, can go for hours. Believe me, I've shared a dormitory with him. Impregnation at a glance. Also he's-- you know, all of those things that you said. But add virile. And a good kisser. You know, if you want her to believe me--and, you-- [Remus, here's your in, and he turns his head a little to dig his chin into Remus' jumpered side.] Then just kiss her. Prove it. Lay a good Lupin kiss on her, she's in your lap. I want a drink.
[And now he starts trying to roll off of the sofa.]
no subject
[Sirius starts to say, and then he laughs. Maybe he'll change his middle name. The initials would be less amusing, but Jehoshaphat might just make up for that. He does sort of a pleased wriggle at arm scritching, mmghr, quiet happy growl, as if he is indeed covered in fur at the moment--but that changes pretty quickly to a snort of laughter, as he remembers Jehoshaphat.
He keep laughing, generally--all through being maneuvered aside so Kate can crawl into Remus' lap--which, well done, Kate Bishop, always like a girl who takes initiative--and even through some of that pep talk, though he does downgrade it to a quieter general chuckling, mostly so he can hear. And he smiles, slowly, sleepily, pleased that someone else sees good bits where he sees good bits, and then maybe some.
But still.]
You're drunk. [Agreement from Remus' lower side.] You're ssooo drunk. Both of you.
[And he laughs, again, when the bottle falls on the floor. The smell of whisky is pleasantly pungently everywhere, at least for a brief whiff. Sirius thinks momentarily about rolling over onto the floor and going for it. That plan seems hard, so. He doesn't. Yet. Instead he squirms at the pinching.]
Nnngh. Yes. No. Yes, he's so virile. The virilest. Always leaves 'em satisfied, can go for hours. Believe me, I've shared a dormitory with him. Impregnation at a glance. Also he's-- you know, all of those things that you said. But add virile. And a good kisser. You know, if you want her to believe me--and, you-- [Remus, here's your in, and he turns his head a little to dig his chin into Remus' jumpered side.] Then just kiss her. Prove it. Lay a good Lupin kiss on her, she's in your lap. I want a drink.
[And now he starts trying to roll off of the sofa.]