Summary – Until the day he died, James would tease Sirius and Remus about one incident involving a house-elf, a pair of socks and some mistletoe. One-shot, MWPP-era. Not ... exactly slash.
Disclaimer – J.K. Rowling owns Sirius and Remus, unfortunately. I think she should have to split fifty-fifty – I get Sirius and Remus, she keeps James and Peter. What do you say?
Note – Cambri Terrangs is Sirius' girlfriend. Marsha is the Ravenclaw girl Remus is head over heels in love with. Please review.
We'll Never Live It Down
"One kiss and one only
And then I'll let you go."
—Dave Matthews
The dormitory was a mess. It was always a mess, between Sirius and James. James, for instance, dressed by grabbing the first clothes that came to hand – no matter if they belonged to Remus or Sirius. And Sirius didn't believe in personal drawer space. Remus, who was both private by nature and habitually neat, had at first been horrified with the three boys he was expected to share living space with. Now, though, they were in the winter of their fifth year, and he had adjusted.
This, however, didn't stop his irritation when he tripped over a pair of socks belonging to Peter and sprawled across the floor. He had been turned around, walking backwards while talking to Sirius, and the back of his head hit the door with a loud crack. He lay there for a moment, blinking.
James and Sirius stared at him, then burst out laughing. "Those are your socks," Remus announced, gingerly feeling the bruise in his skull. "Therefore, you are going to die."
It was always Remus who got injured. Once Sirius left his silver wristwatch in the wrong place and Remus picked it up in the morning. Once he was nearly hanged in the bedcurtains. No one could work out why he was always the one to get hurt. Remus usually shrugged and remarked that the innocent were always the first to suffer.
Sirius was the first to regain control. He walked over to Remus. Remus opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling, and then stiffened. "Don't come anywhere near me!" he cried.
"Oh, come on," said Sirius, pretending to be hurt as he pulled Remus to his feet. Remus came unwillingly. "They aren't even my socks. They're Wormy's."
Peter sat up from where he was lying on his bed. "Are not."
"Are so," Sirius countered cleverly. "See, Moony? Not so bad –"
Suddenly James cried out, "Look up!"
Sirius did. Then he paled. "Hey," he said. "That's just sort of wrong."
"You're still holding Moony's hand," Peter commented.
Sirius let go quickly. "Am not. Look, some mad house-elf decided on a joke. It's probably in the vents watching and waiting. It doesn't count."
"You'll offend the gods of Christmas cheer," James said severely, approaching. "And the theoretical mad house-elf. If you run into someone under the mistletoe, you have to kiss her. Or him, as the case may be." James caught Remus as he tried to sneak out the door. "Really kiss him. Come on. It'll be funny."
"I think I'll risk offending the gods of Christmas cheer," said Remus, trying to wriggle away from James. Peter was watching avidly. This was real entertainment.
Sirius gave Remus a once-over. "Not that I'm sexually insecure or anything, but I'd really rather not."
James chuckled. "What's a soul-kiss among friends? It'll never leave the room. Marsha will never know."
Sirius shook his head firmly and crossed his arms. "Not happening."
"Why not?" Peter cajoled. "It'll be funny."
"He'll bite," said Sirius.
Remus sighed and stopped trying to kick James. "There you go. I'll bite him. Let go and I won't have to murder you."
"Now, Moony," James said soothingly, "you yourself have told us that you aren't contagious in your human form."
Peter laughed. "It doesn't matter," he pointed out, giggling. "You don't have to bite him. You have to kiss him."
James cocked his head to one side and examined Sirius, then Remus. "I think you two would be good for each other. And if you're too embarrassed to do it, well then, we'll just have to assume there's something you want to hide from us."
Remus squirmed away from James, leaving his jacket behind, and started to run for the door. It opened in front of him, hitting him again and revealing Cambri outside. "Did I walk in on something?" she asked as James caught Remus again and wrestled him in front of Sirius.
James grinned evilly. "Remus and Sirius ended up under the mistletoe," he explained, "and they refuse to appease the gods of Christmas cheer."
Cambri looked very grave. "They'd better do it. They wouldn't want to offend the gods of Christmas cheer. That's dangerous business, offending the gods of Christmas cheer."
"Or the theoretical mad house-elf," Peter offered. Everyone ignored him.
"We'll both kiss Cambri," said Remus, leaping for a chance.
Cambri kissed him. "You still have to do it." She retreated and seated herself on one of the beds to watch the show.
Sirius sighed heavily. "We might as well get it over with. I am confident of my heterosexuality. And the gods of Christmas cheer may punish us if we refuse."
"Why," Remus yelped, "is everyone pushing this?"
Cambri and James looked at each other and shrugged. "It'll be amusing," said Cambri.
"Fine," said Remus. "Fine. Let's get it over with."
"Not just a little peck on the cheek now," James instructed. "A real kiss. On the lips. And beyond the lips."
Remus looked physically ill. He rolled back his shirtsleeves and took several deep breaths. "He's preparing," said James. "This will be quite an ordeal."
"Just for the record," said Sirius, "I'm only doing this because I know you'll punish me severely if I don't. And to prove that I am secure in my sexuality."
"Good for you," Remus snapped, scrubbing his hands through his hair. Cambri almost interfered out of pity, but she had to see this.
Remus closed his eyes for a moment, looked at Sirius, and moaned out loud. Sirius was just waiting, apparently not brave enough to make the first move. Cambri was about to start wondering aloud over what their punishment would be if they refused, when Remus stepped forward, rose slightly on his toes, and placed his hands behind Sirius' head. He looked distastefully at his friend's face for a moment, then brought their lips together.
Sirius stiffened visibly, then relaxed. After a moment, a very long moment, Remus broke contact, somewhat pink, and retreated to the opposite side of the room, where he crawled into the two feet of space between his bed and his bedside cabinet and curled up there, rocking back and forth. "He's traumatized," said Cambri sympathetically. "Not that I blame him in the least."
Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You," he said to Cambri, "you ... could really take lessons from him."
"I could," said Cambri, moving toward Remus, who rocked more violently.
Sirius came to sit next to her, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders. "I think not. Where'd he learn to do that? I thought he was asexual or something."
"Well, there is Marsha," Cambri said fairly.
Sirius shook his head. "Sure, I realize he's fallen deeply into puppy-love with the lovely Marsha O'Connor, but he's too young and too innocent to have ever kissed her ..."
"He's older than you," said Cambri. "Maybe he has some experience we don't know about."
"That might explain the trauma reaction," Peter noted wisely.
Remus stopped rocking. "Shut up," he said forcefully. "No, that wasn't the first time. Thanne Simms kissed me in third year when I helped with her Astronomy."
James' eyes widened. "No kidding!" he said delightedly. "Thanne Simms? Padfoot, she's the seventh year who ..."
"Practically groped me in the middle of the common room, I know," Sirius interrupted, with a faraway look in his eye. "Ah, the lovely Nathaniella ..."
Cambri hit him. "Come out, Remus," she said kindly. "I promise I won't let Sirius kiss you again."
"Promise?" asked Remus in a muffled voice.
"Of course," Cambri said soothingly. "Though notice I say nothing about James."
Remus had been halfway out. At these words, he crawled back to safety.
"Oh, come on," said James. "Why would I want to kiss him? I'm not like Sirius. He obviously liked it a great deal ..."
Sirius groaned. "We'll never live that down, will we?"
James smiled wickedly. "Oh, no," he said. "You never will."
Terminus Quod Orsa