"Right," Remus said, a bit doubtfully. Oh, he believed that George was strong enough, but inebriated was a different thing entirely. Maybe it would almost be a fair fight this time a month. And to be honest, that made him feel better about the whole deal.
"It switched," he clarified. "When I needed to be controlled, he was strong enough to do it. But we sparred for position now and then. Sometimes he'd win, sometimes I would, sometimes we never even had to fight." He shrugged. "It was what it was and it worked. He had his girls on the side and when I wanted one he'd tell them to bring a friend. It wasn't..." he started, thinking harder. "It wasn't a relationship or anything like that. Just friends who shagged now and then." Which were, in his younger days, the best kinds of friends. Now he just wasn't in the mood all that often. Age and stress got to him. And maybe it was driving him a little loony too.
"There," he said pointedly. "You got your lurid stories." It wasn't the end of the conversation, but it was a nod that George was going to have to put up or shut up pretty soon because Remus was running out of things to say on the matter.