Beauty sleep? Remus couldn't help but think that if beauty sleep was going to be at all effective on him, he'd need to sleep for a few decades. And even then. The scars alone...
"I'm up for company," said Remus, knowing full well what he was getting himself into. This was James, after all. How could he not expect a certain level of silliness. In fact, at this point, it could only help; while he'd been asleep, Remus had been free of his thoughts, his worries, the question of that blasted erection and if it had lingered once he had fallen asleep in Sirius's arms. Asleep, he was free of the memory of how good it had all felt, Sirius's fingers in his hair, holding him, how warm he'd been and how good he'd smelled beneath the smell of blood and the odor of the crap he'd smeared all over him. And his fingers...
Now he was back to thinking about it all, to knowing perfectly well why he felt so strongly about Sirius and wondering how he was going to stop.
So really, it was James who had to be worried.
"What are you doing up so early? Oh. Wait, what time is it?" Right, his roommates were gone, so it wasn't that early.