Disclaimer: Anyfink ya recognise ain't mine, innit.
A/N: Because I'm an immature eighteen year old girl…
"Sit down, Sirius." Remus said without looking up as he turned a page of his book. Sirius looked down at him and scowled rather childishly before holding up a finger to tell the younger students to wait for a moment.
"You've interrupted my speech, Moony." He pouted, turning atop the behind the sofa on which Remus was lounging, "What shall your punishment be for keeping my audience waiting?"
"It's hardly a speech, Padfoot." Remus sighed as he turned the page again, sounding as though he was vaguely amused and was trying not to show it, "Telling children about your various escapades – all of which ended with a detention, I might add – is scarcely appropriate."
"You sounds like Evans." Sirius scoffed, planting his hands on his hips, completely unaware (well, alright, totally aware and loving it) that fourth and fifth year girls were taking the opportunity to ogle his arse.
"Someone has to be the sensible one when the Head Girl and Head Boy are occupying a broom cupboard somewhere." Remus shrugged. Sirius grinned and bent down (sending one girl into hyperventilation) to pinch Remus' cheek.
"Aw, is Moony Moon jealous?" he cooed, "Don't worry, we'll go have us a good time somewhere private once I'm done educating these midgets."
"Charming." Remus said lightly, "I look forward to it. I do wish you wouldn't insist on performing like this for everyone every week, though. Especially on a rickety old table. Especially when a rickety old Moony needs an overdramatic Padfoot to take him upstairs."
Sirius blinked as Remus continued to red calmly and shook his head, choosing to ignore his friend's most out of character proposition. Such exciting things tended to put even the best of actors off their games, so he spun around and flung his arms out to the whole common room.
"Remus, you fool!" he cried, "This rickety old table does not worry me! This table is my stage – the world is my stage!"
"I think it's you who might be the fool, Sirius," Remus smiled angelically, eyes never stopping their back and forward motion over the miniscule print of his book, "If all the world is your stage, then where would the audience sit?"
Sirius blinked, dumbfounded for the second time in as many minutes. His audience waited expectantly for his witty answer, so he cleared his throat, tossed his hair confidently and replied in his most aristocratic Black voice, "I refuse to answer your question on the grounds that I don't know the answer."
Remus chuckled and finally closed his book. Sirius watched indignantly from his stage as the normally stern Prefect got to his feet and tucked the book under his arm, looking up at Sirius with a half-smile tugging at one side of his mouth. Sirius stared down at him, daring Remus to order him down.
"Why don't you come down from there," Remus suggested, the half-smile still crinkling his eyes, "So we can go upstairs and do something that makes us both happy?"
Sirius blinked, speechless for the third time in one day. Such a thing was unheard of; his audience stared, wide eyed, as Sirius floundered – physically, with his arms sort of flailing around aimlessly – shocked that his Remmykins had stooped to acting so unMoony-like to get him down, suggesting that in public. The only explanation was that perhaps Remus really did have something incredibly fun in mind.
"Soundslikefunwhydon'twegoupstairsthenMoonysorryki dsIgottagodostuffwiththeMoonsterherecatchyalaterch eeriocomeonMoonyMerlinyou'reslow!" Sirius spouted energetically in the time it took for him to jump from the table, race towards the stairs up to the dormitories, realise Remus wasn't following, skip back to grab his hand and do a happy dance up the stairs with a highly amused Remus being tugged along behind.
The door slammed upstairs as the students left sitting facing the table looked to each other curiously. One forth year boy stood and heaved himself up onto the 'stage', looking at the others knowingly.
"Obvious what that was about." He commented in a would-be-offhand manner, "They're not fooling anyone."
"What are they doing upstairs?" a third year asked, "I was looking forward to the Black Weekly meeting."
A fifth year girl stood and joined the boy on the table, folding her arms with a smug smile, "Yep. They're shagging."
The first and second years looked alarmed whilst the rest considered this and shrugged. The fourth year boy looked surprise, "I was just going to say that they were planning another prank."
"That's not a secret." A brave first year piped up, "Everyone knows they're behind all the pranks."
"Yeah, but not many people know that Lupin's actually the real mastermind." The boy reasoned. The audience nodded, seemingly placated with the explanation of their entertainer's sudden disappearance and drifted off into groups to chat and finish homework. The fifth year girl huffed and looked up in the direction of the seventh year boys' dormitory.
"Definitely shagging." She nodded to herself.
Meanwhile, Sirius was bouncing up and down on Remus' bed excitedly as the other boy shucked his shirt and opened his trunk to sift through its contents quickly.
"Can we use that thing we found in Filch's office?" Sirius asked eagerly, "Y'know, the long thing with the spinny bit on the end?"
"Oh, won't that hurt? Fine, let's try it out." Remus turned, holding a long, smooth object from under his spare set of robes. He pointed it at Sirius' shirt, "Get that off. This is going to get messy."
Sirius whooped in delight and quickly stripped off his white school shirt before leaping up to advance on Remus and take the shiny object.
What exactly happened that evening was never revealed – whether Remus, Sirius and the 'spinny' thing were responsible for the mini twister made entirely from permanent red and gold paint in the Entrance Hall, or whether the sleek object was used for more…interesting activities was never decided. All their housemates knew was that there was a red mark on the side of Remus' neck and that Sirius had developed a limp and a silly smile overnight.