A/N: here's a little wolfstar drabble my first time writing them so feedback would really make my day/week/month! And I'm not JK Rowling :D
Everything was burning. Breathing was hard and his eyelids felt too heavy to lift. His ears were full of noises he couldn't comprehend. Not now. He tried to focuse on anything, but it was all too much, he couldn't take it. He layed there under covers and panic started to set in. He would die. Soon. There was no other way out. Seconds passed, turned to minutes, turned to hours. The pain and panic turned to ache and he drifted somewhere far away.
…
When he regained conciousness the ache was still there, still strong. The noise around him was shaping to voices. One was quiet, filled with some repressed feeling. One was strong, but kind. One was in a hurry, but still caring. One was interrupted by sniffs. He couldn't understand anything, but the voices gave him something to focuse on beside the pain and burning. He still couldn't move or communicate, or even open his eyes, but it was better. So much better.
…
When he woke up again he managed to open his eyes. His skin was still burning. He couldn't move his limbs and the pain in his teeth made it impossible to talk. The monster was still holding on to his body. Their body. He tried to block the thoughts away like he was supposed to, but failed miserably. After all, he was the monster. He didn't deserve this. To be alive. Why didn't he just die last night?
The room was dark, but the moonlight from windows helped him to recognise the boy sitting in the chair next to him. His long dark hair looked as soft as ever, and when the other boy noticed he was awake, he rose from his chair. Panic filled him again. Sirius knew he couldn't be touched after full moon. Sirius knew he couldn't handle it, not mentally or physically. It would hurt. He didn't deserve it. What was he doing? No! Don't!
But he was in too much pain to protest, when Sirius climbed into the bed next to him, careful not to touch him. He only felt the weight on the mattress, and the other boys breath on his shoulder. It was okay. He was okay. Everything was still the same.
When his breath had become stable again, he felt a single finger touch his arm lightly. It hurt a little, but he didn't pull away. Sirius watched him as he gave a little nod, and started to draw circles on his arm with a light touch. Slowly the pain went away. The other boy continued to draw, and he tried to focuse on his thoughts. He was a human. He was worthy. The touch made it easier to concentrate, easier to block the bad thoughts with the good ones.
After a while Sirius started to make larger circles. Every time his finger touched a new spot there was a little pain and discomfort, but with each new area covered he felt better. More human. Soon his breathing didn't become irregular from the touch anymore, and he drifted to sleep.
…
When Madame Pomfrey came to check on him in the morning she found her patient and another boy sleeping peacefully holding each other with their limbs tangeled. She smiled a little at the couple before pulling the curtains around their bed closed and walking back into her office.