A/N: Written for the August 30th Prongsfoot Microfic prompt 'Concern' over on tumblr because I'm still in withdrawal from Prongsfoot Week and couldn't resist another fix.
Lifting his legs high enough to climb through the portrait hole hurt like hell, but the thought of his soft bed made Remus push through the pain. Hopefully everyone would be too drunk by now to notice him slip in. Missing the Quidditch match and the afterparty sucked, but at least his friends had been by the hospital wing with sweets this morning, and an ecstatic Sirius had popped in after the game to let him know that Gryffindor won spectacularly; James personally responsible for over half their points.
The party was still going strong; a cluster of sixth year girls were dancing on one of the tables, wobbling precariously under them, some fifth years were playing Drunken Snap by the fireplace, and the Prewett twins were entertaining a large group in the corner with a parody of what could only be their divination teacher. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, drinking, dancing, and being much too loud for Remus's frayed nerves—everyone except Peter, who was fast asleep in one of the armchairs, cradling a half-empty bottle of Ogden's, a bit of drool running down his chin.
Despite having slept most of the day, the journey from the hospital wing to Gryffindor tower had been strenuous enough that Remus briefly considered joining him just to avoid the three flights of stairs up to the boys' dormitory, but his back wouldn't be thanking him tomorrow. Peter's wouldn't either, but Remus did not have the energy to lug the wanker upstairs right now.
Where were James and Sirius? This was obviously their doing; they should deal with it.
He couldn't spot them anywhere, but they were always the last people standing, so they'd be back eventually. Probably off to the kitchens or with girls somewhere.
Keeping close to the wall, he managed to make it to the stairwell without attracting attention and breathed a sigh of relief. Climbing the blasted thing took twice as long as usual, and he had to step over a passed-out Benjy on the first landing and navigate around a couple of lip-locked sixth years on the second, but he eventually made it to their dormitory with only a slight cramp in his right leg and a minor urge to murder someone. The room was dark, so he turned on the light and headed straight for his four-poster, but then a sound—a low moan followed by wet, sticky clicks and pops, and oh God, sucking—from the other side of the room made him turn.
At least the mystery of James's whereabouts was now solved.
The victorious Quidditch captain must have decided a private—and more shirtless—celebration was in order, seeing as he was currently snogging the face off some poor soul pinned beneath him, a pair of long legs wrapped around him under the covers. And not even his own covers, the shameless animal.
"Oi, Prongs, what the hell?" Remus quickly shielded his eyes to avoid having to scourgify them later. "Put out a tie next time, will you?"
"Sorry, Moony. Forgot," James mumbled, but the kissing continued.
"Merlin—And Sirius is gonna kill you when he finds out you're using his bed for this."
James sniggered. "I think he'll be fine."
"Come on, mate. Your own bed is like three steps further. How would you feel if one of us got busy in there?"
More sniggering.
"I appreciate your concern, Moony, but I can assure you he's got my full permission."
"Padfoot?!" Remus dropped his hands and stared as Sirius stuck his head out from under James, who was sniggering into his neck.
"Feeling better already?" Sirius asked innocently. "I was sure Madam Pomfrey would keep you for the night."
"I—" Remus spluttered, staring at his friends. His friends, who had always been joined at the hip but never quite this literally. At least he hadn't thought so. "You—"
"Alright there, Moony?" James emerged, blinking at him with barely contained amusement.
"I—" Remus exhaled and tossed up his hands. "Fuck it. Why am I even surprised…. Just please, close the curtains and put up a silencing charm, will you? I'm going to sleep."
"Righto, Moony. Deeply sorry," Sirius said and reached for his wand on the nightstand. "Sweet dreams!"
"Oh, and collect Wormtail when you're done, before someone draws a dick on his face."
"Ooh, great idea! Have you got a marker, Padfoot?" James asked, but Sirius's answer never came as the curtains snapped shut and the room became unnaturally silent.
Un-fucking-believable, Remus thought as he quickly stripped down and crawled into his own bed, spelling the lights off and pulling his covers over his head. Pondering the implications of this madness could wait until his body no longer felt like it had been trampled by a herd of angry hippogriffs.