The Wardrobe

"I can't believe that of all the places we could be hiding, we're actually hiding in a closet," Sirius huffed. "The irony."

"It's a wardrobe," Remus insisted. "No irony—no silly puns intended."

"It's an enclosed space—I'm not picky as to how to name it. Irony," Sirius said in his dramatic the-world-is-ending tone. "Pure irony."

"I can't believe we're actually discussing this," Remus growled, shifted and poked something with his toe—it felt familiarly much like Sirius' ass—though it could just as easily be his arms. "We're hiding from our best friend—and we're deciding how to correctly call this place."

"You were deciding how to correctly call this place," Sirius corrected him. "I was just pointing out how ironic our situation is."

"It's not ironic. Ironic is so typical that it makes you laugh later," he shifted again, and by the moan Sirius made, he realized he was probably a bit too close to Sirius' intimates, so he reshifted for the hell of it. "This will definitely not make us laugh later. Later we will be death."

"Oh come on Moony-hun-love-bum," Sirius teased, and he outstretched his arm—effectively slapping Remus right across the head. "We can tell our grandchildren about this and they'll have a blast—though we shouldn't mention it to the children."

"Why not mention it to the children?" Remus asked, and petted his head.

"I don't think they'll like to know how it became that they were conceived in the closet." Sirius purred.

"I'm not having sex with you in the wardrobe," Remus leaned closer—but only because he barely had space to breathe and Sirius' body was so warm. "James wants to kill us—so stop thinking about your dick for once second, because it's his fault we got in this mess in the first place."

"Hey! Don't blame him!" Remus knew Sirius was looking down at his manhood right now, and inwardly cooing soft words to it—why did he like the man again? No clue. "It's not his fault that you were being so sexy and James' bed was the closest one!"

"Sirius," Remus said in his most stern voice—oh, it was very stern! Beware of it. "Your penis is the only reason we're in this wardrobe—I will blame it for the rest of our lives. If that's making you wonder if you're getting any tonight, the answer is no."

"But—"

"No."

"But—"

"No. You have a bad penis and will be punished."

All he heard was another huff as Sirius indignantly closed his arms in front of his chest—Remus did lean against him though, because Sirius was indeed warm. And okay, he had a very evil dick—but well… Remus was sort of in love with him. (Both with Sirius as his penis.) Even though they were the reason he was bloody naked hiding in this wardrobe to begin with!

"Mmm, Moony, you look so nice." Sirius purrs against Remus' neck—he's not supposed to, because they're in the common room at the party, and any one could just notice how improper their 'friendship' is suddenly getting.

But when his hands slip between Remus' naked thighs—he's wearing a skirt. Never play truth or dare with James or Sirius—it gets a bit over top.

"Sirius, stop it," Remus hisses, though his body arches into the touch. "Someone will see."

"But I don't care, you're mine," Sirius murmurs, licking his way down Remus' throat. "I want you so badly Moony," his voice is hoarser than before, and Remus tilts his head to the side, so Sirius can kiss the expanse of his shoulder. "I need to make you mine again. I need to feel you around me."

And his hands effectively work Remus' way into oblivion.

"No, don—" he's cut of when Sirius touches the hemline of his panties—never ever play truth or dare with James or Sirius—and refrains from moaning. "Not here Sirius—you can have me upstairs."

"Yes!" Sirius does a small victory dance as he gets off his chair, and pulls Remus with him.

Under normal circumstances, Sirius would've gotten Remus upstairs and in his bed in three seconds flat—as it is, Sirius stops every second to grope Remus under his skirt and to fondle with his shirt as well as with the lace panties. They're not getting a move on, and Remus hates it, because he wants to fondle with Sirius' underwear too—but he's got a sense of duty, and refuses to do so until they're in the bedroom when the common room is so crowded. Sirius gives his shoulder a last nip and finally pushes the dorm open, pushing Remus inside and on the bed.

"So this is all completely your fault." Remus explained—they heard angry boinking against the door, and shuffled together, though the sounds were muffled.

"Nu-uh," Sirius insisted. "It's your skirt's fault."

"Which James made me wear!" Remus said defensively. "But it has nothing to do with James besides the fact that his bed is the one you pushed me to, and had your wicked way with me!"

"Mmm, so soft," Sirius licks down to Remus' navel, relishing in the skin. "Moony, 'love you."

Remus is busy panting very hard, but nods, and whispers an 'I love you too' that is combined with a harsh moan, as soon as Sirius pulls off the frilly panties.

"The panties!" Sirius exclaimed. "They're to blame."

"Oh, the ones you dared me to wear?"

"Dammit!" And there was another collision with the wardrobe-door.

"Oh God! Siri—" the pale fingers make their way down the skirt, unzipping it at the side and forcefully yanking it off. He can't wait to be with his lover again—he needs him so hard, and Remus is squirming underneath him, and he makes such a beautiful sight.

"Moony," Sirius whispers huskily, and he pauses his movements—it makes Remus awfully alert, and he knows the boy fears that he did something wrong—as comfort he kisses his neck, to show him it's alright. "I had you before the party—is it okay if I just…"

Remus nods, not even hesitating—they've been together for a very long time, but Sirius always asks before they have sex unprepared, because he really wouldn't want Remus to feel like it's all just about the sex. So he kisses the brunette, and reaches for his jeans, where there's always a small bottle of lube. Swearing it over his hard-on he…

"Your lube!" Remus growls. "It's you lubes fault! If you wouldn't always keep a bottle, you would've had to reach in the nightstand, and then you would've seen that it's not yours, and we would've realized our mistake."

"You can't blame my lube!" Sirius protests, harshly tugging the brunette closer. "It keeps your ass from being painfully sore!"

Remus glared at him—but he couldn't quite contradict him. Even though that was in no way fair—they had jars in the dorm, why did Sirius insist on running around with a small tube in his jeans? If the boy didn't start groping him in hallways they wouldn't be in need of those small tubes to begin with!

"GET OUT!" James suddenly yelled—he'd been bumping against the door for a while now, never quite saying something.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Oh no," Sirius called. "We're quite comfortable in the closet."

"Wardrobe!" Remus corrected—it wouldn't do to mess with James when he was so angry with them.

"GET OUT, NOW, SO I CAN KICK YOUR BUTTS INTO OBLIVION!"

The thrusting is passionate and loving, because Sirius doesn't want to hurt Moony—he cares very much for the boy, it wouldn't do to bring him to pain—and they move slowly on the bed. It creaks under their combined weight, as their movements become one.

"God Moony…" Sirius pants harshly, leaning down against the other boy's body, lathering it in soft kisses.

"Siri—" a harsh moan escapes the brunette's lips, nearing completion. "Siri, ne…"

It's a perfect harmony between noises and movements and lips on hands and against fingertips—they never want to stop this but before long they…

"YOU HAD SEX IN MY BED!" James screamed. "I'M KILLING YOU! YOU PERVERTS!"

"But…" Sirius whined. "Jamy—you've seen us naked before, what—"

Remus groaned—that was not the right thing to say.

"SHUDDUP! THIS IS NOTHING COMPAIRED TO SEEING YOU NAKED AND GOING AT IT!" James knocked on the door harshly, trying to stomp his way through it. "THERE'S SEMEN ALL OVER MY SHEETS! AND GUESS WHAT: IT'S NOT EVEN MINE!"

"Oh God!" Remus arches his back, and their chests touch, as he comes all over their stomachs. "Siri!"

The raven follows seconds later, spilling himself into his lover's body, crying out his name. He turns their bodies, exhausted, but he doesn't want to crush his Moony with his dead weight. Slowly he regains his breath, and when he does, he tells the other boy how much he truly does care for him.

"Okay, look, James!" Remus tried to reason—he was getting sick of being stuck in a wardrobe, even if it was just because he could feel himself getting hot sitting next to a naked and equally-hot Sirius Black. "You're very upset with us, and you have every right to be," Sirius frowned at him—what? "But we're your best friends and we're very sorry we had sex on your bed. We promise to use every cleaning spell we know, and we'll never do it again—on your bed I mean," Sirius grinned and kissed his cheek. "If, for some reason you don't find this reasonable enough, we'll just have to stay in this wardrobe forever. Though I want to remind you of the fact that your clothes are in here too, and Sirius is getting horny again so—"

He was cut off by Sirius' laughter and James' girly shriek.

"GET OUT! NOW!" He yelled. "I won't hurt you! Just don't… goddammit."

The banging on the door stopped, and Remus dropped back his head in relief. Sirius smiled, and pushed the door open, hiding his nakedness as best as he could as he emerged—he used one of James' sweater, and James' eyes twitched.

"SIRIUS!" He howled—Sirius' eyes widened in shock. What did he do this time? "DON'T TOUCH YOURSELF THERE WITH MY SWEATER!"

Remus groaned and before he knew it Sirius was back in the wardrobe with him, locking the door with as many spells as he could remember in the moment of great fear. Outside the door their best friend was raging, trying to throw the whole damn wardrobe out.

"So…" Sirius began, ignoring the fact that his boyfriend was staring angrily at him. "We're in the closet eh. How ironic."

AN: Hah. That was so much fun to write! Seriously… Sirius is such an idiot—and I love him for it.