"What if she..?"
"But what if she does?'
A hand for each of Remus' skinny wrists, Sirius pinned him to the velvet cushion.
"Remus, LISTEN : the Professor, bless her heart, in a move so radical, so revolutionary that the entire school is talking about it has gone to dinner with dear Dumbledore this evening and will not be back for hours. Furthermore, the old fraud has blatantly failed to see us coming, so..."
"How do you know that she hasn't seen us coming?"
"Would you go to dinner if you knew reprobates like us were coming to defile your velvet cushions and drink some, no, ALL, of your tea afterwards?" Remus shifted, pushing up at Sirius' hands, but not too hard (not wanting desperately to be let go).
"Probably not," he conceeded.
"We've got hours, Moony..." whispered Sirius, deliberately rolling down with his hips (two pairs of grey trousers, two pairs of cotton boxer shorts), "We've got hours, and I don't need hours...ten minutes'll do."
Another roll of his hips and Remus moaned, a little sound which Sirius caught between his lips and gave back slowly with a soft kiss.
"Sirius," whispered Remus, still not sure, even as Sirius unfasted his belt, even as Sirius' nails just barely scraped over hot skin, swollen with his heartbeat. Sirius' name turned into a hiss between Remus' teeth, "what if we get caught?"
"Shhhh, Moony," whispered Sirius Black, trickster, beauty, most wicked of boys, his hand on Remus' cock now, his palm already slick and slipping, "I predict great joy in your future if you bloody relax."
"Just so, dear Moony. Just so."