Disclaimer: Alas, not a one of these wonderful boys is mine, however, they shall be returned unharmed.

A/N: Written for day eight of LJ's Tell Me A Kiss challenge; the prompt was a photo of motorcycles. This also made use of a prompt from The Writer's Book of Matches.

"I'll see your sock and raise you a pair of trousers."

For once, the Marauders are not off causing havoc on a Saturday. Granted, half of them (James and Sirius) are playing Strip Exploding Snap on Sirius's bed, which would cause havoc were they anywhere but the dormitory, but the other half are trying to work. After three rounds, Sirius is winning; he has James barefoot while he's only taken off one shoe, and it looks incredibly likely that James is soon to be sans trousers. Every time one of them says something – even a simple curse word like "bugger," which James is saying a lot – Peter looks up from the book to listen, even though, after their last test in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he's nominally scared to death of failing the OWL. Hypothetically, this is why Remus has agreed to tutor him, but, today, it appears that there won't be any learning going on.

"Black, you son of a bitch!" James groans, presumably when Sirius makes a good move.

"Literally even," Sirius chuckles, "or close enough. Anyway, we'll see what you're saying when I come of age and buy that motorcycle."

Peter's head pricks up further than it has before, and Remus sighs. Not the bloody motorcycle again…it always gets Peter's attention, and for all the wrong reasons. The image of Sirius on a motorcycle, Remus regrets, is incredibly terrifying. They're best mates forever, brothers united in Marauding, but he's liable to kill someone on one of those things, especially if…

"And it's gonna fly too!"

"And you're gonna land your sorry arse in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office."

"So? Better than where Bella and her crowd are gonna end up, with the way they carry on and shit…"

"D'you really think he can make a motorcycle fly, Moony?" Peter whispers, awed.

"Do you have a question relevant to Practical Defense, Wormtail?" Remus huffs.

"Huh?"

"The book…any questions?"

"Oh, right, sorry."

He squeaks and turns his attention back to Defense. Honestly, Remus is only doing this because his constant begging was verging on pathetic; the least he can do would be to at least act like he's trying. And half of this stuff he shouldn't need explained to him either, especially the chapter on werewolves, which they covered last Tuesday. The utter horror that Remus needed to go over werewolves when Peter's shared a dorm with one for nigh on five years is only increased by the fact that the writer of their textbook was clearly not a werewolf and leaves out so many details…particularly those about the Ministry's Werewolf Registry. It's all so ridiculously simple, but, then again…Peter's good for other things, like following along on library excursions and pranks alike, offering an ear when someone needs it, and eating the last of the chocolate while his three mates argue over it.

They're covering the Protego Charm when James puts the last card down. Right as he's getting into the third deck, their construction of the Quidditch stadium blows up in his face…again, and Sirius falls back, laughing hysterically. Finally, after joking about it since July, he has James trouserless in his bed. There are always accompanied by assurance that, while he wants to experiment with a bloke (if only he can find "a lucky one" who will without Firewhiskey), doing anything with James would be too much like incest to go through with. Still, he keeps laughing and James has to throw a pillow at him to shut him up; Remus has to shove Peter's head back into the book to reclaim his attention. But, then again…it is the only time this is ever going to happen. Allowing both of them a moment of distraction, he looks up, conveniently, when James stands up, undoes his jeans, and lets them drop to the floor.

…He has Golden Snitch-printed boxers. How tawdry.

And, as Remus expected, James's boasts about Quidditch players having good builds are all talk, and James appears to know this too. He's always been tall, but it becomes incredibly apparent that he's all legs. At Sirius and Peter's laughter, a blush rushes to his indignant face, which only serves to encourage Sirius and his latest obsession with "passionate experimentation" and "sexual freedom." Luckily for everyone else, he isn't as loose as he likes to pretend to be (and like the girls who eye him hope he is). Granted, Sirius is a Beater and has a decidedly less scrawny build, which he hides less than ever these days…nothing too showy, thank Merlin; at least he's exercising some form of taste in this phase of his.

"Brilliant distraction there, Prongsy!" he coos; clearly, he's teasing, but James blushes even more. "But, as I've told you before, I am not going to commit emotional incest with you."

"Git," James hisses. "Not trying…not everyone…I like my trousers!"

"Oh, I like them too, but I wouldn't want to be in them."

"Don't even know…"

"That's only because all you lot are bloody straight and uptight…'you lot' being 'blokes in general,' of course."

"So why don't you bet that then?" Peter interjects. "So…uh, whoever loses has to try it?"

"Ew, Wormtail!" James explodes. "I'm not snogging Padfoot!"

"And I'm not snogging you either, ya daft prat! Wormtail?"

"Leave me out of this; I just have the ideas."

"We could always go bug Shacklebolt, Pads. Your hair's long enough…Confund him and he'll think you're a girl."

"Would not; I'm a Beater, and it shows. Besides, you're assuming that you're going to win."

"Because I am. I've got it coming."

"Except that you're not."

"Guys, it hardly matters."

"Wormtail's right, Prongs. I mean, Shacklebolt's got a tight arse-"

"Stop it!"

"But we should use someone who's available. We're both out, and Wormy's abstaining, so that leaves…oh, Moony!"

Remus has been absorbed in processing all their dialogue until now, but the three-way grin he gets snaps him back into reality, especially considering who gives it to him. Sirius and James have used it to get things out of him before, but…Peter's doing it too? Since when does Peter know how to do that? He's not James Potter, Troublemaker Extraordinaire, nor is he Sirius Black, Ardent Romantic; he's bloody Peter Pettigrew, Sidekick If There Ever Was One! His entire place in the group dynamic is based on him not being able to do these things, but here he is, showing Remus back into the headboard because he's leaning too close with that stupid, bloody grin on his face. Finally, Sirius claps and lets out a very un-Sirius-like squeal of joy, which earns him a pair of confused looks from Peter and James, and a Gryffindor-red blush from Remus.

"…That was creepy," Peter says simply.

"It's just that I'm finally getting to try it," Sirius huffs.

"Wait!" Remus splutters. "Finally nothing! I didn't agree to this!"

"Yeah," James sighs warily. "Besides, Pads, you've won three out of four, and I don't want to snog Moony."

"I don't want to snog you either, no offense."

"None taken, mate."

"Come on, you nances! If you haven't noticed, it's 1975, a year for passionate experimentation! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I've got a bloody sense of adventure, ya git; I just don't wanna snog Moony! Shacklebolt, fine! Hell, I'll even snog Frank if you can get him up here, but I'm not snogging Moony!"

"Sounds like someone's unsure of his sexuality-"

"I'm perfectly sure of my sexuality! And since you're clearly deaf, read my lips: I. Like. Birds."

"Moony's pretty like a girl."

"I am not, pretty or like a girl!"

"It's a shite thing to do, but I'm siding with Moony!"

"Come on, Prongs, he's got such a spectacular arse!"

"I do not!"

"Give yourself some bloody credit, Moony! You're beautiful!"

"If scars, scrawniness, and limp hair are your thing, then I guess so! And I'll thank you to quit ogling my utterly unspectacular arse!"

"How can I help it?" Sirius whines. "I want to experiment with a bloke, and you're right there, and so bloody attractive-"

"Padfoot!" James groans, exasperated. "Keep it in your pants!"

"Besides!" Remus adds, blushing so hot he thinks his face is in danger of catching fire. "You're not going to experiment with me because I'm not doing this!"

"Well why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!"

"Why?"

"You're old enough to know why!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"NO!"

Finally, Sirius contorts himself – how a Beater who's constantly falling out of things can be so bloody flexible, Remus has yet to understand – until he's draped over the side of the bed, giving Remus his patented Upside-Down Puppy Face. It's even worse now that he can turn into Padfoot and perfect it as the proper species, and Remus knows that he should have built up a resistance to this technique by now. But, alas, he knows that he hasn't. There's no good argument anywhere in the masterful combination of childishly wide eyes and a pleading smile, but…everyone falls victim to it eventually. Even Professor McGonagall let him skive off a detention once because he used it to make her believe that he needed to write love poetry. At least that's his version of the story. The thought of McGonagall letting anyone out of anything to begin with is ludicrous, and the addition of love poetry…as if Sirius knows how to write a love poem. And Remus is completely torn between – yet again – what he wants and what Sirius wants. Huffing, he looks to Peter for an idea, any idea, since he's apparently so good at giving them; his nonchalant shrug says to just get it over with.

"Fine," Remus sighs heatedly. "Whatever."

"Alright then!" Sirius cheers. "Whoever loses gets to snog Moony!"

"You better not throw the game, Pads," James growls warningly. "Moony-snogging aside, I want your best game!"

"Ooh, Prongs! Going to-"

"No, I'm bloody well not giving up on Evans for Remus – no offense, mate."

"None taken."

"I just want to make sure you deserve to snog him!"

"…Uh, thank you?"

"No problem, Moony, mate."

And they finally sit down for the game, this time trying to build the Astronomy Tower out of the cards, each of them using a separate deck. Even with magic, the sheets really shouldn't be stable enough to keep it up, but the construct doesn't fall down…actually it seems too stable. Really, aside from the outcome, he's not at all interested in this rubbish; Peter "oohs" and "ahs" for every good or bad move, and Sirius and James cheer and groan accordingly. From the sound of it, Sirius is winning…oh bloody hell…he's going to have to snog James. One quick look up tells him that the creation looks nothing like the Astronomy Tower, and Hell if the rules make sense. Remus soon gives up on trying to figure it out and turns to his latest reading project – the poems and short stories of Edgar Allan Poe. Thumbing the pages, he tunes the other three out and opens to "William Wilson"; he's about halfway through the story when the decks finally explode in one piercing, earsplitting blast.

"Okay," he groans. "Who am I snogging?"

As he looks up, he immediately chides himself for asking. James looks relieved, Peter intrigued, and Sirius is wearing the biggest, most idiotic grin that has ever graced his face. Remus swallows hard and braces for the attack; his book falls to the floor as Sirius jumps onto his lap and kisses him firmly on the mouth. Immediately, his face is wet. Apparently, Sirius has no qualms about open-mouth kissing on the first time, and Remus's feet twitch and his legs spasm when he willingly opens his own mouth. But, in his usual manner, Sirius takes it in stride, and slides his tongue in slowly and gently; the effects of the tenderness take hold on Remus quickly, and his feet stop threatening to wear down his ankles from twisting. More graceful than he could ever hope to be, Sirius snakes a hand behind his head and lowers him onto the mattress, straddling his chest and bending over him, like some mythical princess giving a resuscitating kiss.

Then he gets adventurous, kissing Remus's temples, the pressure points on his neck, and his Adam's apple; since Remus wants to kiss back now, he settles for the forehead. Coming up for breath, Sirius smiles at Remus candidly, brushes some hair out of his face, and kisses him again; Remus is more participatory this time, taking Sirius's tongue with the pleasant taste of surprise.

"Uh…guys?" James says warily, after several minutes have passed with only punctuated breaks for breath. "Guys, you can stop now…really, it's okay…Moony, you don't need to prove anything, and Padfoot…stop playing with the lad already."

"James," Peter sighs heavily. "I think we should go now."

Remus doesn't quite catch the rest of James's protests, but the sounds of footsteps and the slamming of the dormitory door make him smile into the latest kiss. And Sirius smiles back at him.