Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Of Winter and Fate

Sometimes, life is unfair. And then there are those rare few times inside of that narrow window of unfairness in which Fate decides to make your life a living hell. Unfortunately for Sirius Black, Fate had made a special exception for his life and was now attempting to foist the most unfortunate events imaginable upon him just to see how much it was possible for a single Wizard to suffer.

Granted, Sirius figured he might be exaggerating a tad. (But certainly not by much, that was for sure.)

Today was supposed to be a brilliant beginning to the best winter holiday he'd ever have. It was his seventh year, his last year to enjoy, so he'd planned on making it memorable. This year had already surpassed his previous six years with flying colors, but apparently the first three months of the school year were some kind of fluke that Fate was frantically trying to rectify in a single day.

He'd woken up this morning, spotted the snow drifting slowly down outside of his window in big, fat clumps, and instantly bounded over to Remus' bed, using his Animagus form simply to surprise the sandy-headed boy with his wet nose.

They both knew it was a shameless excuse to get into Remus' bed in any way possible, but the tradition had began in their fifth year and had yet to be interrupted.

Except, of course, for this morning. The morning that began the Day of Catastrophic Doom, as Sirius was starting to call it, Remus Lupin was mysteriously absent from his bed. And Sirius knew that it wasn't that time of the month because Remus had gone through his three days of "mood swings" almost two weeks ago.

Disappointed, Sirius had trudged out from Remus' bed, no longer in Animagus form, and stalked into their dorm showers, forgoing the comfort of the James' Head Boy shower for a quick wash so he could catch up to Remus as soon as possible.

Sirius flipped the water on, waited until it was steaming, and then stepped underneath the flow of water. It was the perfect temperature for maybe all of six seconds—just long enough to get him completely soaked—before the water had turned freezing cold.

"Fucking fuck!" Sirius exclaimed eloquently, leaping out of the water as his skin seemed to shrink around his bones. He was frozen. And he knew exactly whose fault this was. "Gods damn that little rat!" he grumbled, snagging a towel and stomping out of the bathroom. Apparently he wouldn't have a rejuvenating shower this early in the morning.

There was almost no one in the common room save a few fourth years, and he didn't run into anyone else as he stalked down the halls like a furious wave of Gryffindor ire. He wasn't sure who he wanted to see more—Remus so he could berate him for not being in his bed when Sirius had woken up, or that stupid Pettigrew so he could ring his little stringy neck. Fortunately (or, in retrospect, unfortunately) he ran across Snivelly exciting the castle.

Keen on cheering himself up with some good ol' fashioned . . . er, training of his favorite Slytherin, he followed the greasy haired git out of the castle (despite the fact that he was only wearing a black sweater because he hadn't expected to exit the castle before breakfast) and into the fresh snow.

His shoes and socks were instantly coated and slowly became more soaked as the snow melted and turned into icy water. Yet Sirius was more concerned with the avalanche of snow that had decided to encase him in a cocoon of glacial ivory. He didn't have time to dodge, much less withdraw his wand so he could fend it off.

Unfortunately for him, the snow was quickly melted by a well-placed charm—and left him drenched, head to toe, in water so biting he felt it to the marrow. And before him, standing like a grease stain on an otherwise perfect white shirt, was Snivellus himself.

Sirius honestly couldn't be held accountable for his actions.

"You little shit!" was what came out of his mouth before he tackled the skinny little Slytherin into the snow.

When they were pulled apart maybe half a minute later, Sirius had perhaps landed one decent punch. The little snake was slimy as a vat of oil and getting a solid grip on him was about as easy as holding onto a wriggling fish. Grudgingly, Sirius allowed himself to be pulled back from Snivelly—who remained, panting, in a depression in the snow.

And he also had the good luck of being found by Evan Rosier who, while being known first and foremost as a Slytherin had tried to match his sister Bellatrix's notoriety, was also a Slytherin prefect and part of the group that Snivellus lurked around with. This also gave him the power to award Sirius with a detention on the very first day of the winter holiday, which he gladly did.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for assaulting a fellow student, Black," Rosier sneered. "It may be the winter break but it doesn't mean you can run around acting like your normal dip-shit self. Detention with that oaf of a games keeper at ten."

"Ten? Are you fucking kidding me?" Sirius had protested angrily, shaking off Rosier's hand sharply.

Rosier grinned nastily. "Yes, ten, Black. And you'd best not forget—ten in the morning."

"Ten in the-? In the morning? That was twenty minutes ago!"

"Well I guess that means you're late, doesn't it?"

Sirius knew he hated Rosier for a reason.

And this is how Sirius Black found himself shoveling the path from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade in little more than a sweater, a heating spell, and a couple of gallons of icy water coating himself. Hagrid had apparently left the castle on business (although the enormous game keeper was kind, if a bit simple, Sirius tended to avoid him on a matter of principle) and the game keeping duties had been taken over by Filch. And Filch had hated Sirius ever since his first year when he'd lobbed that balloon filled with bright red paint at the man before he'd even been Sorted.

It certainly wasn't shaping up to be the Greatest Start Of Winter Holidays, Ever, as he'd expected when he'd first woken up in those precious few seconds when he'd still been comfortably under the illusion of greatness. That particular illusion had shattered rather quickly, and he found himself regretting that he'd woken up in the first place.

"And that blasted Rosier wouldn't even let me run back to my dorm to grab my winter gear!" he muttered angrily to himself as he hefted another load of snow to the side, his back beginning to ache from the repetition. Not to mention that he was so starving he could eat an entire hippogriff and come back for seconds. Gods, he was starving.

And he couldn't even tell what time it was, either, with the perpetual snowfall obscuring the path of the sun so he could make a rough estimate (not to mention obscuring those precious meters of path that he'd painstakingly cleared away, now being coated inch by incessant inch).

He sneezed rather abruptly and realized that slowly but surely, his nose had steadily been accumulating a lake of mucus. It'd been so gradual that he hadn't even noticed when he'd started breathing heavily out of his mouth (largely because he'd probably already been breathing out of his mouth from the exertion) and his nose had been all but stoppered up.

"Well, shit." That would just be the icing on this cake of epic tragedy not seen since the likes of Emeric the Evil if he happened to get sick. And by the looks of it, it was rapidly becoming a reality. "Just perfect," he groused to himself, hefting another load of snow off the path.

Hopefully he'd be able to finish up soon enough to get back to Hogwarts, grab some hot pumpkin juice spiked with a healthy dose of Firewhiskey and maybe a plate of bacon, curl up next to Remus and fall asleep.

"Sirius!"

Strange, the boy in question thought to himself dizzily, that almost sounds like Remus. But Remus wouldn't be a quarter of a ways to Hogsmeade on a Saturday evening, especially not in this weather. Or at least Sirius hoped to hell Remy wasn't out here, because then Sirius would have to chew his ear out for being halfway suicidal.

This warranted a chuckle that turned into a cough that shook his frame so much he dropped his shovel in the snow. Fumbling for his wand when he'd calmed down enough, he hastily recast the warming spell that at some point had worn off when he hadn't noticed. He was not going to get sick.

"Sirius, what the hell are you doing?"

Definitely not Remus. Remus did not swear under any circumstances, that was for sure. The one time that Sirius had heard him swear, it'd certainly been warranted: after all, Snivelly had ever-so-unfortunately almost succumbed to his claws during that time of the month and James had been forced to save the annoying Slytherin.

Remus hadn't spoken to him for a week.

A hand on his shoulder shook him until snow fell off. Blinking blearily, he focused on something that wasn't snow white or the darker black of the woods (though, granted, Remus' face was barely a few shades darker than the snow, anyway).

"Remy?"

"Merlin, Sirius, you're frozen! What are you doing out here?" Remus immediately removed his jacket, bundling Sirius up into it and belting it tightly. He looped his arm through Sirius' and turned him around, abandoning the shovel and leading the larger boy back up to the castle.

Sirius was content to just let himself be surrounded by the comfort that was Remus. The jacket smelled like his own unique scent, a mix of elderberries and pine with a touch of wildness that the austere teen did his best to suppress in the presence of others. Sirius liked that Remus didn't allow the same censorship in their relationship, even if now Remus was tutting like a mother hen.

"Did you just suddenly have the urge to clear a path to Hogsmeade in nothing but a sweater and a thick layer of ice? Are you Imperio'd? Should I go get Dumbledore about this? Sirius, answer me. You're not answering me. Did you just pass out?"

Remus' questions were getting more and more frenzied so Sirius decided to reply to him.

"No, Remy, I got detention," he croaked after a couple of tries. The effort seemed to scrape his throat raw and when he swallowed the phlegm collected in the back of his mouth it seemed to have the consistency and presence of cyanide rather than thick piles of mucus. For good measure, he sniffled.

"Detention? What in the world did you do to warrant detention on the first day the holidays?"

Remus, Sirius noted with unusual acumen, was shivering. It seemed logical to unbelt and unbutton the jacket (Remus worked fast! Good thing Sirius was the best at getting clothes off) and then tug Remus closer and into the jacket to warm him up, too.

"What the-? Sirius!" Remus exclaimed, exasperated. He wriggled slightly but gave up, knowing that Sirius wouldn't let him budge. The jacket was much too small for the both of them, but that didn't matter to Sirius. Not to mention that the body heat from the slightly-hotter-than-average Remus would warm him up far quicker than a simple jacket.

"It's warmer," Sirius explained, though it came out sounding more like "swarmer."

Remus sighed. "Why in the world are you so idiotic sometimes?"

Sirius recognized that this wasn't a question directed at him so he nestled down further in the coat, moving Remus so he was slightly in front of him so he could bury his nose in the werewolf's nape.

"Remy, I'm tired," he murmured plaintively, trying to keep the whine out of his voice but failing. His nose felt stuffed, his head felt empty, his throat felt raw, his stomach felt shriveled, and his skin felt itchy. He was officially feeling Not Good.

"I know, Siri," Remus told him soothingly. "We're almost back at the castle, and as soon as we get there, I'll take you right to the prefect's bath so you can have a nice warm shower. I'll get you a nice hot meal and then we can go to sleep, okay? We're just about there. A bit longer, Siri, hold on." Remus wrapped his arm comfortingly around the taller teen's waist, half-carrying him as Sirius got more and more droopy as they walked.

"Just a bit farther?" Sirius repeated, voice muffled by sweet-tasting skin and feather-soft hair.

"Almost there," Remus promised.

"Hurry," Sirius mumbled, despite knowing that Remus really couldn't half-drag him through the snow any faster than they were already going.

"Don't worry," Remus told him absently, at the steps to Hogwarts, and fumbling for his wand with his free hand while still trying to support Sirius with his other arm. With a wave of his wand he opened the door as he got closer, waving it behind them as they hobbled forward in a sort of awkward three-legged race with Sirius' body being the third leg.

Sirius was sort of glad that James had gone home for the hols because that meant that no one would really be concerned if they were absent for a long period of time (as he no doubt already had been, since it was already dark outside). It also meant that he had Remus all too himself. He wasn't really counting Peter because Peter only stuck around for James. Wormtail wasn't a big fan of hanging out with the werewolf and the rebel.

Too bad I'm too sick to fully appreciate it, he thought to himself grumpily, trying to resist the urge to sneeze (or cough—the urges were so similar at this point he wasn't quite sure) at the same time.

"Come on, Siri, we need to get to the fifth floor," Remus reminded him when the black haired boy slowed down to an almost stop just inside the entryway.

"But that's so far 'way," he protested quietly, still comfortably nestled against Remus' lithe body. Truthfully, he was almost willing to just lay down on the stone floor right there, as long as Remus lay with him. They'd already made it all the way to the castle, so why should they have to go further? It was a far sight warmer in here than outside, and the floor looked so comfortable . . .

"Think of the bath," Remus urged him as he began to propel Sirius closer. "All those bubbles and the incredibly hot water . . . and remember, I'll get you food, too." They had made it to the second floor, and Remus decided he needed to further distract Sirius (not that he really needed it). "What do you want for dinner? Have you even eaten at all today?"

"No," Sirius told him glumly. "I didn't even make it to the Great Hall. Stupid Snivelly."

Remus had his own thoughts about whatever situation that Sirius had gotten into this time, but he knew that the last thing that Sirius needed was a lecture, especially not from him. He decided to let it go this one time.

"Well, that's no good. So you'll have to eat three times as much, then. What do you want, Siri?"

You, Sirius had the crazy urge to say, but knew that it was probably only the raging fever (and only partially the raging case of teenage hormones) that had prompted that particular thought. "Bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. Oh, and spiced cider with Firewhiskey. That'll warm me up. Maybe some waffles and whipped cream . . . strawberries . . . pecan pie . . . a sandwich . . ."

It was pretty difficult for Remus to decipher most of what Sirius was saying, as he was buzzing it directly into his neck, and towards the end the syllables and vowels all sort of squashed together in an incoherent jumble. But at least Sirius was still awake.

"Alright, we're here," Remus announced, dragging the almost comatose black haired teen into the prefect's bath after muttering the password under his breath.

"Fucking finally," Sirius mumbled as he partially pulled himself off of Remus long enough to stumble to the bench and collapse down. He blearily watched Remus bustle around the bathroom, feeling a sense of loss (not to mention a lot colder) because Remus was no longer nestled up against him.

Remus waved his wand and turned on the combination of faucets that would best suit the situation: nearly-boiling water, of course, vanilla-tasting bubbles, and eucalyptus to help with Sirius' cough and to clear out his nose, hopefully.

"Remy," Sirius whined, evidently reaching his Remus-deprivation limit. "I'm cold."

"Don't worry, Siri, the bath is almost full and you can get in. Can you wait here while I go get some food?"

Sirius was a little reluctant to let Remus get more than two steps out of his sight, but he really didn't have much of a choice. "Just as long as you come back as soon as possible, 'kay?"

Remus nodded distractedly, making sure that the bath was running smoothly, and then walked over to Sirius to belt him up more tightly in his own jacket. "I don't want you getting in the bath without me, okay? Just stay here until I get back. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, he brushed Sirius' unruly curly locks back from his forehead and then planted a lingering kiss in the center.

Sirius' eyes drifted closed, relishing the warm heat of Remus' lips, and when he opened them again, Remus had left. Trying not to pout, Sirius settled in on the bench, hoping that Remus would return quickly.

Remus returned with a veritable feast floating in his wake. Sirius had dozed off and had to be shaken awake.

"Hey, Siri, wake up. I brought food and some potions for you to take," Remus told him as he gently roused the inky-haired teen.

"Wha—" Sirius began, but Remus used this as an opportunity to pour the foulest tasting potion of the lot down his throat and forced him to swallow it. Once it was down, Sirius gave him a dirty look, grimacing and attempting to remove the taste from his mouth. "That was dirty," he complained, but he had already starting feeling better.

He knew not to question Remus of what the potion actually was: if he knew the name of it, he'd be obligated to know what had gone into making the potion. Previous experience had told him that knowing what was in a potion was probably not the best knowledge to have if one would be drinking it on a regular basis.

"Feel better, though, don't you?" Remus questioned smugly, half-lifting Sirius up onto the bench. "Now dig in. I got all that you asked, plus some."

Sirius finally had a chance to look at the food that his best friend had brought him and decided that he could die happy now. He reached for the closest thing—a plate of bacon—and began to devour it.

Remus, content that Sirius would make his way through the meal like a Niffler searching for a golden needle in a stack of hay, stooped down next to the bath, dipping his hand into the water and through the bubbles to ensure that it was still as hot as he wanted it. Granted, it was a wasted gesture because the bath was enchanted to keep its heat until the water drained, but it still gave him something to do while Sirius plowed through the food.

"Here," he said, tossing a small vial filled with a bright red potion. "It's like a Pepperup Potion on Felix Felicis. It's a controlled substance because it's highly addictive, so take it"—Sirius knocked it back like a shot of Firewhiskey—"easy," Remus finished dryly.

"That was good!" Sirius exclaimed, half a sandwich in his left hand while he reached for a slice of fresh bread.

"There's a reason it's a controlled substance," Remus told him, exasperated. He was glad that Sirius was starting to perk up; that first potion he'd given him was sort of a chance, because it didn't work on about 40% of people that took it. Thankfully, it had worked on the other teen because it was possibly the best potion for this situation.

Sirius was still looking a little sallow, and his eyes were just a touch unfocused, but overall it was an improvement from the half-dead state that Remus had found him in.

"And this one," Remus told him, pulling a larger flagon out of his pocket to give to Sirius. Mechanically, Sirius twisted off the top and took a healthy swallow—probably to get it down quicker if it was foul tasting—and then almost spat it back out.

Sirius gazed in awe at the innocuous sandy-haired teen. "How in the world did you convince those blasted house elves to get you this?"

Remus shrugged modestly. "I had to pull a few favors, but I'm not going to reveal my methods."

Sirius grinned unabashedly, taking another deep gulp before handing the flagon to Remus. "And thank Merlin for whatever methods those are. Hell, I'm not even going to ask at this point."

This was just what he needed. Food, a couple of potions to get that awful dripping out of his nose and to get his head to stop pounding, a flagon of Firewhiskey, his best mate, and an absolutely decadent looking bath for whenever he was ready for it. Which would be quite soon, at the rate he was filling up. He didn't feel completely healthy yet; his throat still ached like he had swallowed razorblades and there was a bit of lightness in his head that probably meant he wouldn't be able to run around with his usual vigor, but he figured with some good rest he'd be back to his old self.

Hell, who was he kidding? "Good rest"? Not if he could help it. That bath needed two bodies in there, and now.

"All done!" Sirius chirped, standing so suddenly he almost tipped into the bath when a wave of vertigo washed over him.

Remus lunged, barely saving the flagon of Firewhiskey and the black-haired teen at the same time.

"You didn't spill any, did you?" Sirius breathed, pressed against Remus' body once again and not feeling inclined to move in the least.

"Not a drop," Remus replied, his breath mysteriously absent.

"I knew you always had your priorities straight," Sirius said triumphantly before he closed those scant few inches between them to capture soft lips with his own.

Kissing Remus was a lot like coming home. Not to 12 Grimmald Place, of course, since he'd never consider that his home, but it was like coming home to the home he'd never had. It was the sense of having someplace where he could relax and get away from the ills of the world, somewhere he could breathe easily and not have to worry about things like blood purity or the house tournament.

Remus was his family and when he was kissing Remus, there was nothing to think about at all. It was his Nirvana, his utopia, his Elysium—and all he wanted to do was keep doing it.

Sirius pulled back abruptly when he realized something. Potions or not, he was still sick and kissing Remus was probably the best way to pass it on.

"What?" Remus murmured distractedly, nibbling down the exposed column of Sirius' throat when he broke the kiss.

"I'm sick, Remy. You can't go around kissing me, at least not until I'm better. You could catch it too!"

Remus leaned back just far enough to be able to give Sirius a skeptical look before swooping in to give Sirius a breathtaking kiss.

"I don't care," he said against Sirius' lips.

They did stop long enough to pull off their clothes and get into the bath (breathless giggles and fingernails scraping over exposed skin and shivers twisting down spines).

Sirius was the first one into the bath and stopped and stared as Remus began to pick up his discarded clothes. "What are you doing?" he demanded impatiently. "Get in here."

"I'm folding your clothes!" Remus explained, doing exactly that—but with agonizing slowness.

Sirius couldn't be sure if he was just sick enough for time to be distorted and impatient for Remus to join him or if the blonde was deliberately taunting him. He was inclined to go with the latter. After all, he was one of the few people that knew that Remus never tried to limit their exploits: he was always the one that quietly encouraged them to go the extra kilometer while at the same time ensuring that they wouldn't get caught.

It was definitely deliberate.

Sirius had had enough when Remus bent down over the bench, tutting at the unevenness of how the socks sat on the pile of clothes. Hefting himself out of the tub, bubbles sticking to his dark skin as water streaked down, he stalked over to the paler boy, placing his hands on those narrow hips and pressing himself to Remus' back.

Remus froze when silky-smooth damp fingers dug into his hips, nearly yanking him back against a body that was possibly hotter than his was. He was scalded. He tried to suppress the smirk that curved over his lips (he'd known that his teasing would work!) and looked over his shoulder, smiling coyly. "Impatient?"

He was answered with a growl. Sirius spun him around with a hand embedded in velvety hair, nipping at his lips once, twice, thrice—and then jumping away with a laugh, leaving Remus with eyes half-closed and wanting.

"Come on, Remy," Sirius purred from the bath. "It's nice and warm in here, and although you don't look cold," he said with a pointed look south, "I bet you'd be more comfortable right here."

Remus didn't have to be told twice, slipping into the water—oh, and he'd chosen right, it felt simply blissful—and ducking underneath the bubbles, soaking his hair. He pushed off against the tile of the bath's walls, aiming for Sirius with his hands outstretched. He found smooth hips and something else far more intriguing after a few seconds of weightlessness, surrounded on all sides by water with nothing to ground him. Sirius was his anchor, and he teasingly wrapped his lips around Sirius.

Sirius jerked forward, an unconscious response softened by the water that surrounded them and moaned when he felt the white-hot heat of Remus' mouth encase him for the barest of seconds before the blonde had to surface for air.

"You bloody tease," he grated out before digging a hand into the small of his back and the other into soaking hair, slamming their bodies together before Remus even had a chance to open his eyes.

Remus eased the ravishing kiss to a more languorous exploration of each other that had them getting hotter than feasibly possible, licking at the corner of Sirius' mouth delicately. He captured the resulting moan with his mouth, digging his fingers into the small of Sirius' toned back and thanking the heavens that the teen had the good sense to play Quidditch.

"Siri!" he gasped mindlessly when Sirius broke the kiss to nibble on his neck.

Sirius continued on happily, humming when Remus' hand tightened in his hair in response to the lick he stroked down the pale column that was the werewolf's neck. He lavished kisses upon each individual tendon he could find, attempting to suck Remus' collarbone into his mouth once he reached it and biting almost savagely on the junction of his shoulder and neck.

Remus' shuddering breaths told Sirius he was doing a fine job, but he was starting to get dizzy. He pulled away with a gasp, leaning his forehead against Remus' recently-bitten shoulder and taking deep breaths.

"Fucking illnesses," he cursed breathlessly, and Remus let out a strangled laugh.

"My turn," Remus told him huskily, pushing them backwards until the backs of Sirius' knees hit a bench and he was forced to sit down. As Sirius (attempted) to get his breath back, Remus straddled him delicately, both of them hissing at the added contact.

"Continue like this and we'll be done before we even start," Sirius managed to get out.

"Don't worry," Remus reassured him absently, eyes wolf-gold from arousal. He scanned Sirius' body, trying to best decide where he wanted to start. To him, it was an easy decision, and he descended upon the shell of Sirius' ear in an instant.

Sirius twitched, feeling that hot tongue curl around the sensitive shell of his ear and sending heat directly to his groin. He wanted to thrust his hips upwards, wanted to ease himself into the cradle that Remus' thighs made oh-so-perfectly, but he resisted the urge by just a thread of willpower, playing the game that had become their ritual. They'd try their best to hold out to the end, and it made everything so much more earth shattering.

Remus dragged his lips across Sirius' razorblade cheekbones, dancing across the incredibly light smattering of freckles he found on the bridge of his nose and to his other ear, granting equal attention upon it. When he was sure he'd investigated it thoroughly with his tongue, he leaned back enough so he could see Sirius completely. With a slight frown on his face, he raised both hands up to Sirius' inky locks and tangled them up to the point that it would be nearly impossible to neaten them without an incredibly powerful spell.

Sirius gave him a curious look, to which he flushed slightly and shrugged. "You didn't looked mussed up enough," he muttered, almost under his breath. "You look hot when it looks like you've just had sex."

Sirius didn't have an answer to this and decided to simply steal a kiss back from Remus. The blond nibbled on his lower lip, sweeping his tongue across Sirius' and then biting down sharply on his lip, eliciting a cry that Remus swallowed as he sucked the black-haired teen's lower lip into his mouth to soothe it.

When they finally ended the kiss, they were both panting again. Remus grinned in satisfaction at the dazed look in Sirius' eyes, his lips swollen with kisses and looking like he'd just been thoroughly sexed.

"If I wasn't so sick right now . . ." Sirius managed to say, a slight frown on his face to prevent himself from pouting.

Remus' smile turned wicked. "But you're sick, and it's my turn. Sit on the edge of the tub."

Sirius moved quickly for three things. One: whipping out his wand to curse Snivellus. Two: chugging any and all forms of alcohol. Three: any command and/or request from Remus that would eventually lead to sex (which, luckily for Sirius, was every second sentence out of the blond's mouth).

Remus eased himself between Sirius' thighs, fingers digging into the dimples just above his bum as he licked his lips. Rarely did he have the opportunity to take control (not that Sirius was all-dominating, but his nature was to be passive and he was content, most of the time, to let Sirius take charge) and he would relish every minute of it.

He took a hold of Sirius at his base, anticipating the jerk at his firm hold without any sort of warning and allowing his open mouth to receive his head. The sound that escaped Sirius' throat, halfway between a guttural groan and a moan, was possibly the most erotic sound he'd ever heard.

"Fuck, Remy . . ." Sirius murmured hoarsely. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Remus responded by sliding his tongue up Sirius' slit, wringing another moan from the other teen when he combined it with a slight vibration when he replied in nonsensical syllables. Sirius dropped a hand to his head, threading it through his wet locks and just simply touching him, not guiding or pushing him at all. He spun his tongue around the shaft, first slowly, and then interspersing it with quicker rotations that caused the fingers on his scalp to tighten, fingernails scraping and pulling his hair with a pain that merely served to heighten the pleasure.

"More," Sirius managed to pant, and Remus complied, adding an extra twist as he swirled his mouth around the head, his tongue easing out to stroke up and down his slit. The shudders shook Sirius' frame as he did so: Remus knew all the spots that would curl Sirius' toes.

A particular violent shudder nearly pulled Sirius from Remus' mouth, and an unintentional scraping of teeth on his shaft caused Sirius' legs to tighten almost painfully around Remus, locking at the ankles behind him.

"Fuck," was the only coherent word that Remus was able to make out, and he smirked, tilting his head just enough to be able to trail damp locks of hair across Sirius. Remus knew that he was so unbearably close, thighs twitching around his sides uncontrollably, so he finished Sirius off with a bang.

He raised his hand up to Sirius' nipple, pinching and squeezing at the same time his other hand dove between the cleft in Sirius' bum, his tongue sliding up his slit in a quick, hard swipe.

The orgasm swept through Sirius like a tidal wave electrifying his muscles into spasming as he gripped Remus as tight as possible, his thighs aching as he unconsciously grabbed the hand on over his nipple to lace their fingers together. He barely got out the name "Remy," his entire body consumed with the ravaging pleasure that was slowly winding into a sated repose.

When his muscles seemed content to turn to liquid, he slipped back into the bath with Remus, meeting the blond for a kiss that tasted of sex and Remus.

He pulled back suddenly with a realization. "What about you?" he asked Remus, coal-black eyes tired but guilty at the neglect.

Remus shook his head slowly, dropping a feather-light kiss on Sirius' lips. His arousal could wait until Sirius was not looking like death warmed over (and sexed, of course). "You're sick and tired. I'll survive a night. You just go to sleep and I'll deal with the rest."

"I love you," Sirius murmured, eyes drifting shut as he dropped his forehead to Remus' shoulder.

"Love you too," Remus echoed, pressing a kiss to Sirius' temple.

He'd worry about moving them to a bed later. For now, he was content to just bask in the essence of Sirius that permeated the air around him, a thick blanket that comforted him more than anything else ever would.

A/N: Okay, I have to confess, this was a little hard to write. Not that I have a problem with slash, but slash is just weird to write if you're used to solely writing hetero (like me). I wasn't positive on the positions (because I figured they'd have to be different, y'know?) and writing it was just . . . yeah. So, in any case, dearest slash readers, take it easy on me since I'm not exactly used to writing slash.

This is dedicated to my best friend, Helen, who has been begging me to write her a sick!fic for years now. And I didn't even get the sick part entirely right, either, since he got better. Oh well.

Beta'd by the lovely Haz (Ha'niqua) who was patient and understanding of all the gay porn I linked her.

I hoped you enjoyed! Feedback would be much appreciated since this is new territory to me. (Hello, new readers!)

Roma