The light flickered on the desk. On, off, on, off, onnnn. Thrusts sent the table shaking on its wobbly legs; it wouldn't hold. Lucky Arthur didn't need it too. He could count the cobwebs accumulating on the ceiling, multiplying in the dark. His mind was just a bit more preoccupied at the moment though.

Above him Lucius thrusts, his hard cock slipping in and out of Arthur, pulling back, ramming in. The two, slicked with sweat, gritty and naked moved against each other with time. Arthur gripped the edges of the desk so hard he could feel the tension build. His legs like jelly, melted around Lucius' waist, holding the man to him.

Quiet groans, held back and wanting slipped through, deep breaths and gasps exited their mouths and broke up the settled silence. Outside in the Auror Office people moved about and chatter ensued, masking the little sounds, but perhaps being the tide of their undoing. Quieter, quieter. But maybe being caught, maybe that's what kept them going.

The air, sex and adrenaline in the bite of it. Testosterone clogged up his senses. A few platinum strands of silk dance in front of Lucius' eyes, dangling in Arthur's face. This is all it's leading up to, and it's good. The need is inevitable.

Malfoy's smile, his grunts, his slightly parted mouth. The Slytherin is a picture of beauty, of all the things sex erupts into in those fiery moments of passion shared whenever the hate gets too deep to difuse. Arthur feels like he'll explode each time they meet, they hold themselves back. He wants Lucius, pleads for him. For all he doesn't have. And Lucius will deliver.

He clenches like he'll jump out of his skin when a stray hand grips his abandoned cock, he'd almost forgot. Because when Lucius meets his prostate with each deep trhust, each push in, it's hard to think of anything else. Very hard.

The blonde groans, his eyes shut, his face a clouded slate of pleasure. His jerks on the red heads cock sending Arthur reeling, his spine burning, his eye-sight blurry. And the table. It's going to collapse.

He hold his breath. They're both so close. And that hand on him, and Lucius' cock IN him. He wants to let go. And then-

Lucius, a choke, his beautiful face contorted, his come hot and wet and slick inside Arthur. Sticking up his thighs. Meshing them in one, staining papers on the desk about Muggles and magic, or Wizards and Muggles, or something else Arthur doesn't think matters much now. And the hand doesn't relent, vicious pulls torturing his screaming shaft.

The pushes send them into the desk harder, against the wall, cramped onto Perkins desk too. And Arthur's come, hot ropey white seed, spreads out among them, between them. Over Lucius' hand and his stomach, on the Slytherin's chest. They choke and groan some more, trying to be quiet but failing at that as well.

Arthur catches those gray eyes, emptying himself until he's sure he'll never be full again. The stickiness entered the air, the heat clogged in the small room.

They REALLY need a window in here.