Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"This is a horrible idea."

Sirius chuckles, squeezing Remus' hand reassuringly as he creeps silently through the hallway.

"It's…" Remus mumbles, wanting to wring his hands in worry, "it's after curfew. Shouldn't we just return to the dorms?"

"But this way is so much more fun." Sirius says, pouting when Remus vigorously attempts to shake off his boyfriend's grasp.

"We've already had four detentions this year because we got caught snogging in broom cupboards, but this time it's a classroom–"

Sirius rolls his eyes and sighs as he turns to face Remus, grabbing his shoulders firmly. "Moony," he says assertively, "unclench, all right?" he kisses him briefly before he drags him further down the corridor.

"Uh." Remus scans the area uneasily, his eyes on alert for lurking professors and other prefects just waiting to bust them. He really shouldn't be doing this. He is a prefect. Getting his privileges revoked because of some forbidden fun with Sirius atop a teacher's desk is not what finds particularly exciting. It's risky and he's never really been the daredevil of the group. He's all for executing some pranks when tracing them back to the creator is impossible and he's even all for passing notes in History of Magic simply because there's no chance that he will get caught by Professor Binns even if Remus would yell all of the notes he received from his fellow marauders out loud. But this is just like jumping off a cliff without a parachute.

"Calm down!" Sirius hisses, "we'll be quiet about it."

Remus huffs incredulously. Every time Sirius promises to be quiet…

He's never quiet.

Sirius smiles wickedly when he slips open the door to the transfiguration classroom and pushes Remus in. He stumbles ungracefully.

"Oh," Remus whines, "not the transfiguration classroom! If McGonagall finds us–"

Sirius shakes his head and splays two fingers over Remus' mouth. The werewolf shuts up promptly and his sentence fades away.

"We won't." the black-haired boy whispers huskily before replacing his fingers with his lips and kissing Remus soundly.

Remus is still wondering what Sirius did to make him agree to this ridiculous idea. He remembers trying to escape from his boyfriend's grip and run like death is on his heels back to the common room, but somehow they still ended up in a classroom, simply calling out for doom. But somehow Sirius always gets what he wants. Remus doesn't like that.

The thought we'll get caught, we'll get caught, we'll get caught… runs profusely through Remus' brain but as Sirius presses his body even closer and moans deep in the back of his throat, the thought of getting caught is suddenly very arousing and Remus feels a tingle rush through his limbs. He grins against the other boy's lips and pushes him up onto McGonagall's desk. It's halfway because the student desks are too small and halfway because if they are going to do something wrong, they should do it very, very wrong. And having sex on the teacher's desk is oh-so wrong. It's almost sinful.

They topple onto the desk and Sirius breaks away from the kiss with a groan as his back makes sharp contact with the tall and thin ink bottle right in the middle of the desk. Remus hastily pushes it to the floor but they only vaguely hear it crash on the ground. With a sideways glance Remus flinches at the ink staining the wood and soaking into the ground but he can't be distracted by the mess for long as Sirius bites on his ear and pushes off his robe.

The werewolf smiles down at the boy trapped down beneath him, licking and nipping ruthlessly at Sirius' neck while he unbuttons his rumpled shirt. Sirius wraps his legs around Remus' waist and bucks upward. They both moan in unison. In two seconds, Remus feels all of his blood rush to his groin. He bucks back.

The door creaks open and interrupts the breathless moans and writhing on the desk as fast as Avada Kedavra kills.

"Lupin! Black!" Remus whirls his head around to face McGonagall fast enough to hear the bones in his neck crack. His midsection is still throbbing for attention, but Remus will be damned if he'll let a teacher he sees everyday be aware of this. He briefly considers running out or blaming Sirius, but before he knows what's happening, Sirius is pulling himself out from underneath the tawny-haired boy and scratching his neck awkwardly. Remus immediately sees that his boyfriend is having the same issue he is around his crotch and averts his eyes. Normally he wouldn't mind looking but he doesn't need his Professor to find him ogling Sirius' privates, boyfriend or not. No need to convince anyone that Remus is more than a pervert than they already think either.

McGonagall gasps, her hand on her heart as she stares. Her eyes are as wide as tree trunks as she blinks owlishly upon her students and purses her lips into a line. Remus climbs off of the desk, grabbing the discarded clothing and hastily putting it back on. He vainly tries to think unsexy thoughts.

"I'm so sorry, Professor, we didn't mean any harm, Professor, I'm so, so sorry, please, we're both so very sorry–" Remus babbles, forehead trickling with sweat.

Sirius grabs his arm and digs his fingernails into the werewolf's skin to stop him. "Remus!" he warns, "you've gone catatonic! Calm down."

"How many times do both of you need to be punished with detentions before you stop this – this unacceptable inappropriateness!" McGonagall rages, her chin shaking.

Sirius looks pleadingly in his teacher's eyes, "Uh… how about just one more time?"

"Mr. Black! I command you to shut your mouth this instance!" McGonagall barks. She turns to face Remus, hands on her hips. "I would not have expected this from you, Mr. Lupin! You are a prefect!" she leans in to hiss the next part quietly despite the fact that they are the only people in the deserted classroom, "there are minors in this castle!"

"Yeah, well, they're not supposed to roam the halls and burst into random classrooms!" Sirius points out, unable to help himself.

"Sirius! Hush!" Remus orders sharply and tosses a death glare in his boyfriend's direction. McGonagall looks ready to explode. He thanks the dark shadows that eclipse his burning face.

"Neither are you, Mr. Black!"

"But Professor," Sirius states smugly, "they're young and naïve. They're too afraid to break the rules!"

McGonagall glowers at the black-haired boy before she faces Remus. She looks sternly down at him from the spectacles perched on the edge of her nose. Remus wishes that they would fall down just so something would interrupt the awkward tension and boiling anger clashing in the area.

"We have caught the two of you a countless number of times in closets, but classrooms?? Are you both so thickheaded that you cannot comprehend that… that such naughty activities belong to the dormitories behind the privacy of your hangings!" She admonishes strictly, her bony hands shaking in their direction. Remus shuffles slightly backward.

"It's not… it's not that we've forgotten that rule, Professor," Sirius begins hesitantly, "We've just forgotten."

"Black!" McGonagall shrieks. "Quiet! Now both of you, I am not one to stand in the way of young love but this is out of my hands! To the headmaster, both of you! I will be escorting you."

The second they depart the office Remus roughly slaps his hand across Sirius' shoulder, scowling. "I told you this was a bad idea!" he says. Sirius raises his hands defensively. From a few yards behind them, McGonagall coughs impatiently.

"Oh, the arousal comes off and the gloves come on!"

"Sirius!" Remus hisses, blushing madly. He knows that there are no students listening from behind suits or armor or other Professors lurking the halls seeking gossip, but Peeves could be singing a song next morning at breakfast all about Remus' arousal. And frankly, Remus is not amused. Their teacher is still only a few feet away and she doesn't need to listen in to this conversation.

"Don't tell me you're mad."

"Of course I'm mad!" The tawny-haired boy whispers, outraged, "this is practically the tenth time we've been caught snogging after hours! What if we'd have been naked, Padfoot?" he adds the last part in a cantankerous whisper and furrows his eyebrows disapprovingly.

"Well, then McGonagall would have dropped dead at my gorgeous naked figure and we'd have nothing to worry about if she's dead." He snickers into his palm before he playfully interlocks his fingers with his boyfriend's. "Relax, we won't be expelled!"

Remus is very angry. Very, very angry. But he resists pulling away his hand from Sirius' grasp because not only does it feel pleasant, but he knows that it'll be the only interaction they'll have for the rest of the evening because Remus will no longer allow it. It'll be his punishment for Sirius bringing him a punishment. Even if he does want interaction himself.

"Just so you know," Remus mutters sternly, "you're definitely not getting any tonight!"

Sirius pouts. Remus forcedly ignores him, but still squeezes his hand tightly.

They both stand by the gargoyles impassively as McGonagall mumbles a password. She sends one last censorious look toward the students before she pushes them up the stairs. Before Remus can bid her one last apology, McGonagall is already striding down the hallway.

They ascend the stairs and open the door to the office. Practically everything is ticking or clicking, or making some sort of rhythmic sound that is clouding Remus' brain. He slumps into one of the chairs and stares expectantly around the office for a trace of Dumbledore.

"Uh… where is he?" Sirius questions quietly as he zips his eyes around the room.

Remus fiddles with his thumbs and stares into his lap, "We'll just have to wait." He informs Sirius.

There is a silence. Remus raises an eyebrow. Usually when there's a command that requires patience Sirius is protesting with his excuse of not having an ability to execute such an order. So very slowly, because Remus is a little afraid of what Sirius is thinking, he steals a glance in the direction of the black-haired boy.

Oh no.

There's a silly, mischievous, up-to-no-good downright marauder grin playing on Sirius' face.

"Sirius, whatever you're planning on, no. This is Dumbledore's office!"

Sirius doesn't listen. And whatever Remus is thinking that he will do, he never expects the other boy to jump out of his chair, climb into Remus' lap and straddle his waist.

But he does.

Before Remus can protest Sirius is silencing him with a kiss and running his fingers through Remus' tawny hair.

"Sirius," the werewolf mumbles against the lips pressed against his, "Sirius, Dumbledore could walk in any moment–"

"Then he'll get a show," Sirius mutters in a seductively honeyed voice.

"It's – it's practically a sin to scare people like that–"

He's immediately silenced as Sirius nips deftly at the hollow of Remus' throat, shrugging off his cloak once again as he works on removing his boyfriend's.

"Sirius, please–"

"Oh, I love it when you beg." The Animagus husks, grinning from ear to ear as he pops open the buttons of Remus' shirt with his teeth. One of the buttons soars across the room, hitting a snoozing painting squarely in the chest. The man in the frame is instantly jerked from his slumber with a loud grunt but he doesn't bother to interrupt the two boys on the chair.

"You know what would be even hotter?" Sirius whispers as he flicks his tongue over Remus' slightly parted lips. Remus moans in a response. "If we moved to Dumbledore's desk."

"I really don't think we should–"

"Oh, I do." Sirius drags Remus up by the wrist, pushing him roughly onto the copious mahogany desktop after clearing the desk of its contents with one sweep. Books, ink bottles, and even useless yet exceptionally priceless artifacts all tumble to the floor. Recent memories of the exact same situation happening just a few minutes ago in McGonagall's office flits through Remus' brain, but he realizes that there's just one thing different.

He was on top.

With one swift movement, Remus flips over and smashes Sirius onto the desk, his grip hard enough to bruise on the black-haired boy's arms.

"Wha–" Sirius begins.

Remus smiles and shakes his head, "If we're going to do this, you're not going to be the one in control."

Before Sirius can protest Remus is pressing their mouths together and running his hands down the boy's body until he lifts Sirius' shirt a fraction of an inch just to graze his skin with his fingertips. Sirius shudders underneath the teasing contact and rolls his hips. They both gasp at the friction.

Suddenly they are both shirtless. Remus can't even recall his shirt being taken off and that's more then what he can even say for Sirius, who he doesn't remember attempting to undress at all. They're both closer than pickles in a jar but Sirius is still fiercely pulling Remus on top of him as he deftly kicks off his shoes. Remus mirrors him.

Right now, Remus doesn't think he would even notice if Dumbledore walked in. He doesn't think he would notice if all of the house elves, all of the Slytherins, all of the professors, and Voldemort would appear in the office and gape at them like animals behind bars in a zoo because he's just too occupied with that heavenly like thing Sirius is doing with his mouth. He rocks his hips down upon the boy trapped underneath him and is promptly encouraged by the hungry moan that escapes Sirius' lips. With one fast motion, Sirius rips off Remus' belt buckle and jerks off his pants, Remus mirroring his movements a second later. It takes only two more minutes until they are entirely naked in Dumbledore's office, the meeting about the punishments totally forgotten. The only thing both boys care about is the heat that's radiating off of each other in waves.

Sirius knows that Remus has been on top for too long, and in a second he's rolling on the top breathlessly and straddling Remus' bare waist. They both groan at the electricity coming from skin touching skin.

But the sound of a door creaking open and a quiet, interruptive cough have both boys scrambling to get off of the desk and recollect their clothing. Sirius slips off the desk with a yelp, Remus deftly tossing him his clothing.

"It's all right, boys," Dumbledore says from the door, his voice serene and even playful. There is a hint of a smile and amusement to his tone that Remus doesn't know if he should find thankful or insulting. "I'm facing the door."

Sirius mumbles curses repeatedly under his breath as he fumbles to throw on his shirt. He sends a nervous glance to Remus, "Oh god, sir, we are so sorry–"

"I told you, Sirius – two times in one night?!" Remus hisses furiously, pulling on his trousers clumsily. "We might as well pack our bags!" They seat themselves at the chairs awkwardly.

"Are you both dressed?" Dumbledore inquires carefully.

"Yes." Sirius and Remus chorus in a monotone, almost puppy-asks-for-forgiveness kind of voice.

Dumbledore chuckles, sliding to sit behind his desk, "Oh boys," he says fondly, grinning, "you gave me quite a shock. It's a sin to scare like that, you know."

"I am so sorry, sir, we never meant for anyone to walk in–"

"I can see that, Remus," Dumbledore says, his smile still firm on his face, "all you meant to do was to have some fun on my desk, is that correct?"

Remus blushes scarlet, and Sirius awkwardly grabs his shoulder. He uneasily attempts to massage it soothingly.

"Fun is fine, boys," he tells them, "but next time, perhaps it would be wise to stay out of offices, especially when you are expecting company…?"

"Yes, of course, sir!" Remus rambles uncontrollably. Sirius nods along speechlessly.

"Once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker."


"It's not an insult, Sirius," Dumbledore tells the black-haired boy, grinning, "it takes one to know one."

Remus and Sirius' eyes widen to the size of light bulbs, and the hand on Remus' shoulder freezes.

"Now," the older man orders, laughing, "off you go. No detours on the way to the dormitory, please, no matter how tempting an empty broom closet may seem."

The boys stumble out of the office, gaping.

"You were right, I guess," Sirius mumbles breathlessly, "it is a sin to scare that way, but right now I think I'm the one scared. By Dumbledore."

Remus chuckles.

"So..." Sirius begins tentatively, "Am I still not getting any tonight?"

"In the dormitory?" Remus asks, pondering the thought, "I guess we could. It's James and Peter's turn to be scared."

They exchange a mischievous, plotting-and-pranking smile, letting out bursts of laughter in unison.