Author's Note: Title from "Fever" by Peggy Lee.
What A Lovely Way to Burn
"Justin, go check on your sister."
He made a face and pointed to the book in hand which was H. J. Darling's newest release. "But, Mom, I'm reading! Can't you send Max?"
Like that was going to work. Under the stern face of his mother, he snapped the book shut (after carefully placing his bookmark) and shuffled upstairs.
Alex had the flu and he felt absolutely no pity for his ill sister because it was actually kind of fun to watch her suffer – there was a sense of justice in it. Karmic payback for all the misery she caused him! She'd been laid up in bed for two days now and the apartment was happily quieter without her constant, ever-dominating presence. If it was just the slightest bit weird and lonely, he didn't notice.
Pushing the door open to her darkened room, he didn't bother to walk in. "Mom said to check on you. Still alive?"
There was no answer, so he reluctantly walked in to see if maybe she was sleeping then he could report back. There was small lump underneath the covers that he presumed was Alex and came up to the side of the bed, trying to see her face buried in the masses.
"Alex?" he whispered.
A bunch of sniffling and a quiet moan came from the lump and he pulled down the blanket a little bit, just to be sure. Glassy eyes, a red nose, and a flushed face came into view. She groaned louder and pulled away from him a bit.
"Justin, wha-" she croaked, blinking a few times, and swallowed to try to speak more clearly. "What is it?"
For a moment, he was taken aback. He knew she was sick, but he honestly didn't think she was this sick. Really, he just thought she was just sitting in here milking a glorified cold while sipping on a cup of hot tea, watching TV, and reading trashy magazines while Mom and Dad ran back and forth to serve her.
The protective instinct in him came roaring to the surface and he realized that he HATED seeing her like this, this miserable. Right then he started wracking his brain for a spell to cure her, there had to be something, anything to take that desolate look off her face. She was Alex, the girl who would push a boy off a building before letting him see her cry. Alex never looked so worn. Alex never looked defeated, even when she was. So, no, she did not get to look like this now.
"Are you – are you okay? Do you need me to get you anything?" His voice had considerably softened and without meaning to, he brushed some of the errant strands off her face, lingering against her cheek only for a second longer. He was shocked by how the touch burned him so.
She just burrowed down further into the mattress, curling up into a kittenish ball, as if that would help her escape the misery she was in. Sighing, he struggled with whether or not he should leave. If he stayed, maybe she would tell him something he could do. Anything he could do. Right now he was about as powerless as he could get. But Mom was waiting to hear back from him, and so the choice was made. He was all of one step away from leaving the room entirely when Alex called him back and faster than he meant to, he was kneeling at the side of her bed.
"Stay."
"What do you want me to stay for?" he replied.
"Too quiet."
He scoffed. "Turn on the TV then."
She shook her head. "Too much noise."
"You're being ridiculous," he said and crossed his arms.
Why he was fighting this, he didn't understand in the least. Not three seconds ago, he was debating this very idea, and now that he had reason, he was refusing?
"I'll turn on the stereo."
"Stupid…who listens to music when they're sick?"
He almost grinned at the sarcastic tone, so she wasn't completely gone was she? With a heavy sigh, he sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, knocking all the clothes piled on it to the floor without hesitation. Seriously, did she ever clean in here? It wasn't but a minute before he heard her again.
"Still too quiet," she whined.
"Don't people usually like quiet when they're sick?"
"No," she replied stubbornly and he rolled his eyes even though she couldn't see.
"Fine. I'll read to you."
He waited for the outcry, the biting comeback, the endless mocking for making such a ludicrous suggestion, but there was nothing. To say he wasn't surprised would be a lie. Still, instead of commenting on it, he simply dragged the chair closer, and turned on the bedside light. She was on the opposite side of the bed, her back to him, and didn't oppose the light either. Shaking his head in disbelief, Justin went ahead and opened 'Charmed and Dangerous: the Totem Pole of Dreams' to where he left off and started reading aloud. He spoke in a low voice, but clearly and fastidiously as was his wont in everything else in life.
He half-expected to have something thrown at him after the first sentence, likely a heavy, blunt object, but she never moved. By the end of the first paragraph, he was admittedly paranoid and searched the room over for some creature that would attack him or even a bucket magically suspended over his head filled with pudding. Nothing. It wasn't until he reached the third page that he finally relaxed and accepted that Alex wasn't going to fight this. Oddly enough, part of him was disappointed. A small part.
He read for a while, looking up now and again at the small mound in bed with the tiniest bit of dark hair sticking out from the top. The brother and sister in the book had just woken up after a night in the forest on the ground. "You're the guy, you go chec-"
Then he noticed that the mound was shaking.
"You okay?"
"Peachy," she replied, but it lacked strength and he could swear he heard a tremor.
Setting the book aside, he leaned over the bed. "You're shivering. Do you want another blanket?"
"I'm not cold, I'm dying! I think Dad tried to fix furnace again," she huffed angrily and threw off the covers. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her state of undress. What was she doing!?! Lying there nearly naked?! Pajamas went hand in hand with being sick! But no, not Alex. She had to do things her way.
So he didn't linger over her nude form, barely clad in a bra and cotton panties. He didn't feel a rush of blood through his body. He didn't feel a twitch in his fingers for what they ached to touch. He didn't feel a stirring beneath his belly. He didn't want things that he shouldn't want.
As soon as she threw off the covers, she whined and pulled them back on, much to his relief/disappointment.
"I hate this!" she cried, sounding close to tears.
"Can't get comfortable?" he said throatily and mentally kicked himself for sounding the way he did. With a deep breath, he forced his voice back to normal, and added, "You have a fever."
Knowing full and well what she was experiencing, Justin could only sympathize. Remembering the frustration of only ever finding the extremes between being freezing or boiling when he had a fever himself. If you took off the covers, the cool air instantly hit the sweat on your skin and felt good for all of three seconds until you realized you were shivering from the cold. Then back under the blankets, you faced the same problem again and sweat through the sheets - never any relief. It was agonizing.
"No, duh. Get that from the fancy medical degree you made for yourself when you were seven?"
"I was six and it came with the kit!" he shot back indignantly.
"Justin Russo, graduate of the Fischer-Price school of medicine. Oh, a proud day for Mom and Dad."
"Okayyyy, you can be smart about it and run your mouth or let me help."
Sniffling, she rolled away with a tired wave of her hand, obviously not believing him. Another frustrated grunt and a kick underneath the blankets made him smile.
Already, he had started brainstorming ways to ease her discomfort, it was the least he could do at the moment. He didn't fully comprehend why he felt this powerful urge to take care of her like this, but it wasn't something he questioned. As a mortal, he would have gotten her cold compresses or a cool washcloth, but he was a wizard, and as always that expanded the possibilities immensely. There were a few spells he knew off the top of his head that he could use to cool her body down, but he didn't want to risk anything with the state she was in. Something could go awry, even with all of his precautions and careful casting.
So then he turned to possibly casting a spell on the bed, just lowering the temperature of the mattress a few degrees to make being under the covers bearable. Still, he ran into the same problem. What if he did it wrong? What if it ended up a block of ice? Even worse, a giant ball of flame? Then he'll have kicked his downtrodden sister out of the comfort of her own bed. So what was left?
He thought about it for a few moments, running scenarios through his head till finally he came up with one that could work and left room for error. Him. He could cast a cooling spell on himself, just a small one, where his temperature would be lower than normal, but not so much that it would affect him adversely and it would make a difference for her. If he was on the bed, it would take away some of the heat her fever generated. The difference would be nominal, but it would help. What else could he do?
Having decided on that course of action, Justin twirled his wand between his fingers and flipped it over to point at himself, whispering the spell. He felt the effects immediately and shivered, it wasn't pleasant, but he wasn't exactly suffering either. It was like a cool fall day where he should have been wearing long sleeves, but only had a t-shirt on. Satisfied that it had been a success, he picked up his book and gently slipped under the covers, careful not to disturb Alex. He didn't need to deal with her snarky questions and indignant glare. The wordless (or maybe not) "Get the hell out my bed."
She didn't stir or seem to notice his added presence, so he opened the book and picked up where the siblings left off.
Unsure of how much time had gone by or exactly how much he had read, his only hint was that his voice had grown a bit hoarse. It was strange how comfortable he was being like this, alone with Alex without bickering or nasty comments for an extended period of time. Maybe it was just the new experience of a quiet sister. Whatever it was, the knowledge made him uneasy and yet pleased all at the same time. As if he wasn't supposed to enjoy it this much. As if there was something wrong with it.
A small movement stirred him from these thoughts and he realized two things. One, he had stopped reading. Two, Alex was now lightly pressed up against his side, her nose brushing against the thin material of his shirt. How had he gone this long without noticing her getting this close? And why was he breathing so hard? Why was his heart threatening to break the room's silence?
A soft noise emitted from the girl at his side, a cross between a groan and a whimper, which sent a bolt of liquid fire to his core and threatened to forsake all he held dear. She was sleeping now, that much he could tell by her even breathing, but suddenly she shifted even closer and her hand reached out to settle low on his stomach. His lungs stopped working, but his heart picked up its already dangerously rapid pace. The searing heat that flooded his body shouldn't have been there, did the spell wear off? Every nerve in his body seemed to be acutely aware of the presence of her hand, denoting the smaller size, the perfect shape, the delicious weight that if carried lower…
But Alex shifted again, seeming to move closer and closer to him, reaching out, even in unconsciousness, for relief to her fever ravaged body. It appeared that the spell was working better than he thought; she could sense the cool solace his magic-altered body would bring and was desperately searching for it, bringing it nearer to her.
Part of Justin wanted to dart out of that bed, to put as much space between them as was feasibly possible. There was something changing at that moment, something that he would never be able to reverse if it didn't stop here and now. Yet he remained, rooted to the spot, set between pillows and blankets and his little sister's flushed embrace. Again she moved, now her leg was thrown over his, her head most discernibly on his shoulder.
He wasn't going anywhere.
Besides, he didn't want to risk disturbing her sleep. Yes, that was the reason. He tried to take small breaths to calm himself, to relax in their current state. That very notion was rendered impossible the second he felt her fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt and come into contact with his bare skin. He jumped slightly, jostling her, but she only woke partially and instead it gave her more reason to wrap herself around him fully with a contented sound.
It was a battle that Justin lost. Not that it was unexpected. Hardly. Alex would always win with him. And it wasn't for lack of trying on his part, as much as he wished he could say it was.
He tugged off his shirt as carefully as he could, only causing a minor disturbance and then settled back down, knowing it would help her the most that way to be in contact with his skin underneath the blankets and he was right. She was so hot to the touch, every place their skin met she burned him and set his nerves in a kinetic frenzy that instantly had his entire body crying out in arousal. Alex freely encompassed him - he was bombarded with the scent of her shampoo, the perfume on her pillows, the fragrant sweetness of her skin. It drove him mad in a way it never should have, but he was beyond thinking like that anymore, having given in, at least for right now. One bare leg cradled his hip while the other was aligned with his. Her breasts, covered only with the inane fabric of her bra, were crushed against his cool chest; the naked skin of their stomachs pressed against each other. Still asleep, a small moan escaped Alex and he sucked in a deep breath at the images and desires it brought that he wasn't supposed to have. He clenched and released his fists, working on some semblance of control. Finally, desire won out over fear and he carefully let his arm drape over her – waiting for the worst as he solidified their embrace. Alex simply snuggled closer. At that, Justin released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and smiled, really smiled, for the first time since walking into her room, grateful that he had been able to do something for her after all.
It would be different once she started feeling better, when the virus was beaten back and she became herself again. They would go back to arguing and teasing each other. She would go back to living in her own bubble of 'Alex's World' and he would go back to fixing her mistakes whenever she needed him to. She would go back to avoiding work, wasting time, and causing general mayhem, while he would go back to denying every shiver that went through him whenever they touched. That's just the way it was - because she would never feel the same, and if she did… maybe not even then. How could they? At least for right now, he got to be content in a way he had never experienced before. She was in his arms and it was okay.
When Alex woke the next morning, her fever had broken and Justin was gone. Everything in her room was the same as it ever was except for the book resting on her bedside table.
She never gave it back to him.