Intertwined

The two sit, days after graduation, empty pitchers scattered around them, and their heads lying lifelessly on the table. One moves a hand towards the other, eyes never opening. The other does the same and now the two sit in a semi-drunken slumber, fingers intertwined. They are unknowingly dreaming about the same event, different only from the viewpoint.

Here we are dear old friend

You and I drunk again

Laughs have been had and tears have been shed

"So, I say to him, I said, 'Naw, no cat made that mark, that'd be a broom's work!'" The lad sitting across from him roared at the joke, taking another generous drink from the bronze mug before him.

"I want to know what that hag was telling you before we left, you were blushing like a first year!"

Blue eyes sparkled from across the table. "Wouldn't you like to know."

A grin from the brown haired boy.

Maybe the whiskey has gone my head

But if I were gay I would give you my heart

And if I gay you'd be my work art

And if I were gay we would swim in romance

But I'm not gay

So get your hand out of my pants

The hours pass quickly, and both boys - men really - have had more than their share of drinks. But they are young and continue to joke and drink together in celebration. After a time, both men are sitting on the same side of the table, playing a twisted game of Truth or Dare. Their robes lay forgotten against the backs of their chairs, leaving both clad only in thin t-shirts and jeans.

"Dare or Turth?" The dark haired man grins evilly.

"Turch." He could only hiccup.

"Who's the hottest Gryffinfor?" A sly, drunken smile.

"Mmm...James." A disappointed frown from the blue eyed lad, a smile from the werewolf.

"Nuh, I am."

"No, you aren't, turst me on this, I'm the gay one here."

"I'll proved it to yah."

"How?" A suspicious look from the brown haired man.

It's not that don't care I do

I just don't see myself in you

Another time another scene

I'd be right behind you

If you know what I mean

Cause if I were gay I would give you my soul

And if I were gay I would give you my whole-being

And if I were gay we would tear down the walls

But I'm not gay so won't you stop cupping my-hand

They are alone now; the tavern was dark when Sirius finally answered the question in all seriousness. "I can kiss better than him."

"How am I supposed to know that? You only kiss girls!"

"I'll kiss you, then I'll prove I'm better than Prongs."

"You're insane. You're not supposed to like guys, 'member?"

"Well, maybe I do!" The hackles on the dog raised.

A giggle from the wolf.

"Okay, but it has to be more than a quick kiss. Other wise my grandmother will beat you."

"That's not fair, your grandmother's a tough lady!"

"You'd better make it good then." Now the werewolf wears the evil grin.

We've never hugged

We've never kissed

I've never been intament with your fist

But you have opened brand new doors

Get over here and drop your droors

They say you always remember your first kiss. That it's something special in every relationship.

The dog licked his chops, slowly inching closer to the werewolf. A tiny whine. A millisecond of fear before nose bumped nose and their lips met. Neither of them presses for more, but seem to be committing the moment to memory. As if it were the final scene of a long, drawn out movie; they sat for long minutes, lips gracing again and again. Remus was patient, waiting for his friend, his love, to make the next move. Moments later he is rewarded with Sirius' mouth opening, his tongue tentatively seeking entry.

One kiss flows into another, seconds seeming to last a lifetime. The patrons of the tavern choose to ignore the story being written in a darken corner by two young men. As we choose to ignore the fact that this may be only the beginning of heartbreak, not a life long romance. But if either of the men are thinking anything close to that, it is something they both choose to ignore. The kiss ends, and a hesitant smile from the boy called Remus. A hand snakes towards another, and Remus and Sirius sit, hands intertwined.