Author's Note: I do not own the Marauders. Sadly, credit to the best parts of this story goes to J.K. Rowling. The rest is from my own twisted imagination.
"Truth or dare, Prongs." Sirius challenged. James peered over at his friend from his four poster bed opposite. The snitch he had been playing with forgotten, he adjusted his glasses and rumpled his already untidy black hair mischievously.
"Dare."
"I knew it. Hmm…" Sirius, gray eyes glinting, swept his shoulder length dark tresses from his face. He though for a moment, then-
"I dare you to dye your hair pink and wear it in curlers to classes tomorrow." Most mischief makers would use spells to make sure that all truths were, in fact, the truth and everyone went through with the dares, but the Marauders were no ordinary mischief makers. They needn't bother. No one ever passed up a dare. The results were far worse than any jinx.
"He can't do that, we have McGonagall tomorrow!" squeaked Peter. His round eyes widened so that they resembled sky blue dinner plates. His short blond locks seemed to spark with excitement.
"I can too!" James cried defiantly. "Truth or dare, Moony!" he practically shouted. The final Marauder looked up warily from the large, dusty tome he had been pretending to read. A ploy, that had his friends had been paying attention, would have definitely failed due to the fact that the book was upside down.
"Truth." Remus answered, forgetting the not-so-interesting volume. His dark golden curls framed his pale, sweet natured face, equally golden eyes never leaving James' eager ones.
"Okay…" James' was face screwed up almost comically in his effort to find a suitable question.
"All right. Who would you rather snog, Snape or…or…" he trailed off. Who would be most awkward? It came to him instantly. "Padfoot?"
He plays dirty. Remus thought angrily. James was the only person in the world who knew about his feelings that had developed for a certain friend. Gods damn him!
"Uhh…can I pick dare?"
James' face broke into an evil smile. "Snog your choice."
"Damn."
"What was that?" James asked innocently.
Remus didn't answer. He rose slowly, cautiously. He stepped tentatively, yet he gracefully approached Sirius. Gray eyes met gold and held for either a moment or millennia. Neither knew which.
Oblivious to James' and Peter's stares, Remus lowered his form so that he was nearly on top of Sirius. No words were spoken. Their mouths were preoccupied anyway. Tongues escaped and hands ran the length of both bodies. Brains were engulfed in-well, I don't know and neither do they, but they were definitely engulfed in something. Passion, perhaps? All too soon, Remus regretfully separated his body from a reluctant Sirius. The two witnesses stared, openmouthed, as Remus, grinning slyly, asked
"Padfoot, truth or dare?"
