What an image – a slender hand wrapped around well, well his best friend's cock. Remus swallowed thickly, his throat constricting as another vibrant picture of Sirius and James together, filled his mind. He wanted to moan, but he bit his lower lip to stop himself, his heart drumming madly within his chest.
His eyes drooped slowly closed as the alcohol took affect, the corners of his vision suddenly becoming white with murky shadows drifting in and out of his sight. He rested his hand against his chest, smoothing down the fabric with unsteady fingers, his palm involuntarily caressing the hard skin.
"Remus?" The voice was timid – soft, almost a whisper. It snapped Remus out of his daze.
"What?" he asked, tilting his head up so he could look at Peter. "What is it?"
"What are you thinking about?" Peter whispered, his face mere inches away from Remus.
Remus pulled away from him, his nose scrunching as he smelled the boy's tainted breath. He twisted his eyes closed, trying to steady his quick breathing. "What am I – thinking about?" He blinked up at Peter.
Peter nodded, his small eyes suddenly filled with curiosity and – excitement. Remus stared at him strangely. Gazing over at James, who was now fast asleep on his stomach, Remus glanced back at Peter, then smiled nervously at him.
"Peter, what is fisting?"
Gasping loudly, Peter tried to hide is evident shock by covering his mouth with both hands. His eyes widened considerably, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "Y-you don't know what fisting is?"
Remus gritted his teeth. "Well – I think I have a pretty damn good idea. I just need to know what you think it is."
"Well, it's – well," Peter gnawed at his lip, "Well, it's when a bloke takes his fist – and –"
"And what?" Peter began to sputter. Remus rolled his eyes. "Just tell me for fuck's sake."
"Fine," Peter responded quickly, "it'swhenabloke-orsomeoneputs-theirhand – intoanotherperson."
Remus blinked at him. "Puts their hand where?"
Peter gave him an excruciating look. "Please don't make me say it."
Sighing loudly, he looked back at Peter in an exasperated way. "Just tell me, really."
"Really?"
"Yes!"
Peter opened his mouth, then closed it quickly. He gulped soundly before saying quite simply, "In their arse."
"WHAT?" Remus felt his jaw drop.
Peter nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Really disgusting, right?"
"But, then, why did you ask Sirius to do it?"
Shrugging, Peter said, "I was only joking."
It was Remus' turn to gnaw on his lip, his eyes darting to an unconscious Sirius, his mind finally putting the puzzle together. What a fucking fucktard, to think that he actually thought it meant to wrap their fist around a cock. So fucking, fucking stupid. His allowed his eyes to focus on Sirius' hand lying relax against the floor, the pale fingers bent and unmoving. Images of those fingers splayed across Remus' own thighs entered his mind, and he could almost feel the heat of another person's touch.
"Are you imaging it?" Peter asked in a choked voice.