the_debt_of_time

Remus looked like he was struggling to not roll his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I've only
been able to help you with that once," he said while smirking, "and, granted it was amazing,
but I'm quite happily married now. You, most certainly, can handle this one on your own."
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Shut up, Moony. I don't know what to do!"
"It's been that long, has it? Should I draw you a diagram? Step-by-step checklist? I
seem to remember she really liked it when either of us―"
"How long are you going to be an arsehole before helping me?" Sirius asked, his
nose twitching from impatience.
"Just a few more minutes, I assure you, but I reserve the right to be an arsehole if
the situation presents itself again." When Sirius whined, Remus laughed and gestured to
the sofa for him to take a seat. "So, why do you not know what to do? You've been waiting
for her for twenty years, Padfoot. I thought you'd have jumped at the chance to bring her
back to your bed the first night she came home."
"Well, I couldn't exactly do that with her crying over Prongs right off, now could
I?"
Remus nodded thoughtfully. Dora had forced him to take Dreamless Sleep for the
first week following Mia's arrival, as he was having nightmares about his best friend
pleading with him to send her back to the past, tears in her eyes. "I suppose not," he said
with a frown until something occurred to him. "Wait, didn't the two of you have sex the
night you found out your brother died?"
Sirius waved the question off. "I tried to. Can't remember if she actually let me.
Besides, it's a completely different situation. I thought Regulus was a little prick at the time,
and we were also completely pissed."
"Then why not drink yourselves stupid and have at it?" Remus offered. "I'm not
one to normally suggest you drink any more than you already do, but if history has taught
me anything, it's that the two of you have a habit of falling into old patterns."
Sirius snorted. "Don't think she hasn't tried."
Remus raised a brow in surprise. "Mia tried getting you drunk?"
"Last night. Firewhisky."
"Is she aware that the task is near impossible?"
"Apparently not," Sirius answered. "My drinking talents―"
"Alcoholism," Remus corrected.