Summary: The pups cope with Remus' migraine, adding a fluffy twist to a normally miserable situation. Inspired by a migraine I had the other day.

Warnings: Shounen ai/boy-love

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Beta: toxicdelusion on Slash It: A Harry Potter Slash Archive

Remus Lupin woke up feeling perfectly miserable. While just barely rising up from the deepest depths of sleep, he was aware that things were not right with the world. Or, at least his current position in the world, which seemed to be full of heavy drumming. He could not pinpoint just what exactly was wrong and the dueling factions of Sleep and Misery were currently overwhelming Reason, convincing him that it simply wasn't worth the effort to wake up and assess the situation. After all, his pillow still needed him and he needed it more than ever, so why put an end to a co-dependence that was amiable to both parties? Besides, sleep was the perfect cure for all of life's minor woes and anything not related to the Full Moon was simply a minor woe. That was the Remus Lupin belief.

Sadly, rolling over and trying to fall back asleep did not seem to be helping the situation in which Remus was failing more and more to ignore. He was still at the point where the aggravation of having to wake up did not justify to seeking a remedy to his apparent malady. Thus, it was fortuitous- or not, depending on which party you side with- that Sirius had had enough of wondering if Remus ever planned on waking up that morning. When you come right down to it, while Remus tries to demonstrate that their relationship is one of equality at every opportunity he gets, he has subconsciously decided that any problems arising in the morning were without question Sirius' fault, whether it be true or not. Sirius, for his part, was amenable to the arrangement. Or, rather had resigned himself to it after years of dealing with Morning Moony while at Hogwarts.

"Oi!" Sirius called out as he unceremoniously attacked Remus with his pillow, causing the werewolf to let out a groan and curl around his own pillow even more. "We told Prongs and Wormtail we'd meet them at the Leaky Cauldron at nine. You have twenty minutes to get ready." The balled up figure in the bed let out a whimper. "Now!"

Tough love, or simply being a prat- again, it all depends on your particular party affiliation- is the only way to get Remus Lupin out of bed; this was one of the most valuable pieces of information Sirius had learned at Hogwarts. It also inspired Remus to murder each morning. The only reason he remained innocent was the fact that such a crime required more effort than he considered decent for that time of day.

"Don' feel well," he retorted, not awake enough to properly hope if the excuse would be accepted. Besides, it was true. And really, who wanted to wake up to a morning full of drumming? Shouldn't Sirius be complaining about it? Oh never mind. He was sighing. It must be bothering him as well.

"You'll feel better once you've showered and eaten," was heard from a distance, followed by some colorful mutterings involving a missing jumper and a light-fingered werewolf.

A valiant effort to rise from the bed was made- in Remus' opinion- but resulted in the sudden spinning of the room, accompanied by spots of lights. He was strongly reminded of a disco ball, momentarily wondered why his room would insist on being one, and decided that the only way to deal with his obviously confused room was to ignore it, requiring that he go back to the only thing cooperating with him that morning- his bed. He took several deep breaths, hoping that they would convince the bedroom that it was indeed a bedroom. Then again, maybe his room was always that way on Sunday mornings. Merlin knew Remus had never really been conscious enough to appreciate the habits of his room on that particular day of the week. He'd have to ask Sirius. Speaking of the Devil of All that is Morning...

"C'mon. UP!"

Remus cringed, his former speculations now replaced with the theory that Sirius was the one leading the drumming as the pounding had increased significantly at his latest command. Taking a few more deeper breaths, he braced himself, rose out of the bed and started making his way to the bathroom. He neatly chose to forget that he had been the one to agree to meeting their friends for breakfast instead of lunch, much to the surprise of all, and was now silently blaming Sirius for his having to wake up so early on a morning in which he wasn't feeling well.

"You've really got to stop using that old excuse of being sick," he was now being chided- wasn't that just rich? "Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf? One of these days you really will be sick and I won't bel-"

Remus didn't hear the rest as a wave of nausea swept over him and carried him over to the toilet with all the force of a tidal wave. He was now faced with a problem with a paradoxical but inevitable solution. Relief was promised through violent illness, distressing and alluring all at the same time. And so it was that Remus decided that the remains of last night's meal were to no longer associate with his stomach, and acquainted them instead with the toilet.

After several moments that felt like an eternity, the abdominal spasms produced nothing more than dry heaves. As his muscles relaxed and his breathing deepened, he became aware of someone rubbing his back and of the toilet being flushed. Shrugging off the hand, he sat back against the cool tiles and closed his eyes. The bathroom was painfully brighter than the bedroom. He groaned.

He heard water running and once again Sirius was by his side, wiping a wet towel across his mouth. "You really aren't well."

"Yea."

"Right. Sorry." Sirius gently brushed some of the brown locks out of his clammy, sallow face. Remus flinched. "Let's get you back in bed, yea?"

"In a mo'."

The offer should've elated him, but the idea of actually having to make his way back to the bed was rather daunting. Being fully awake now, Remus was better able to take stock of just why he felt so miserable this particular morning and realized that the cause was centered around a pain at the base of his skull. He'd been so taken with the side effects of the pain, that he hadn't even been aware of the headache itself. And what a headache it was! It wasn't as though this was the worst pain he'd ever experienced, but there was no apparent cause for it. No Transformation, no allergies, no excessive drinking. He groaned and carefully laid his head against Sirius' shoulder.

"Kill me now?"

"I'm sure it's not that bad, Moony." Sirius put his arm around him, wary of not jarring him.

"Worst hangover ever," Remus muttered into his lover's shoulder.

"You didn't drink last night. Unless, you slipped something into that cocoa of yours last night."

Remus scowled. "You drank most of it."

"You weren't drinking fast enough. And I had plans for you that couldn't wait. Well, you know how those plans worked out."

"Sirius."

"Yea?"

"Shut up?"

"Sorry. Tell me what's bothering you so that I can fix you up."

"Um, headache?"

"Right," Sirius pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "I don't think we have anything left for headaches." He sighed, "You'd think that with all the healing potions we keep in this flat we'd have something for a simple headache."

"Shh."

Sirius huffed. "At least let me help you back to bed."

It took several more minutes in which Remus did some disjointed consideration before consenting to be led back in bed, at which point Sirius made a big to-do of making sure that he was as comfortable as possible. Pillows were fluffed, sheets were tucked, drapes were closed and lights were turned down. In other words, he was in what the other Mauraders had always called his Nurse Mode. While these ministrations were happily welcomed by an exhausted werewolf after a Full Moon, at the moment they only aggravated Remus' condition. To be fair- for those who side with Sirius' party- anything, no matter how beneficial in the long run, would only have the immediate effect of worsening the situation. Remus happened to be a card carrying member of that party, and was vaguely aware that he should be thanking Sirius, but couldn't bring himself to feel anything beyond the pain.

Instead he snuggled into the sheets, wishing for the blessed oblivion of sleep. He batted at Sirius as a kiss was dropped on his forehead. Normally a fan of such attention, he just wanted to be left alone with his headache and said as much. There was no hope of passing out if Sirius kept distracting him.

He mentally groused about his situation, which did nothing for him, resolutely curled up in as small a ball as possible with his eyes closed, when he heard a soft, "I'll be back soon." This was followed by the bedroom door clicking shut and the faint pop of someone disapparating.

"Sirius?" Remus winced, having sat up too quickly. His shock, however, did not dissipate as the momentary increase of the pounding in his head had. Determined that he must have been hallucinating, he called out again with a certain note of pleading in his voice, but the flat remained resolutely empty. Despite his usual convictions against such actions, particularly when Sirius indulged in them so much, Remus allowed himself to fall into a sulf and let out a pitiful whine as he shuffled his way back to bed.

He'd finally fallen into a fitful doze when the bed shifted under a new weight. He was about to protest when something cold was placed on the back of his neck eliciting a sigh of relief.

"Feels good, huh?" Sirius was back. Remus looked up at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Sirius smiled back. "The mediwtich at that potion shop in Diagon Alley- the one near Quality Quidditch Supplies, you know- said that a cold pack might help."

"Is that where you went?"

"Mmm…," Grey eyes studied him closely, concernedly. "Had to let Jim and Pete know breakfast was off, in any case." He gently brushed the brown fringe, careful to not disturb Remus. "Be right back."

"Where are you going?" Remus sat up in alarm, inviting the spots of light to once again fill his vision, but this time there were strong arms gently guiding him back down to his pillow.

"Shh. Was just going to get some water. The potion Mildred- the mediwitch, that is- well, the potion she recommended smells something vile," he scrunched his nose.

"What did she say?" Remus called out as Sirius headed to the kitchen, not wanting to admit to himself that he only did it to make sure that he wasn't left alone again.

"What?" Sirius sat down on the bed, potion and water in hand.

"What did," he paused. "Muriel, was it? What did she say was wrong with me?"

"Mildred, and you make it sound as though you're dying, you silly git."

"I would be if you'd listened to me earlier," Remus was starting to get irritaded.

Normally not one for being patient, Nurse Sirius was the master of patience, or of simply knowing when to blatantly ignore his patient. "She doesn't think it's a normal headache, since you booted but hadn't been drinking. A migraine, maybe," he explained. "Thus, this vile stuff."

"Potions take too long," Remus grumbled, upset with himself as much as the headache. Considering that he went through monthly transformations, he thought he had a fairly high tolerance for pain. But he'd had no choice but to resign himself to it. He felt that he got more than his fair share of pain and resented having to deal with anymore than his allotted quota.

"'fraid you don't have much of a choice," Sirius offered an apologetic smile. "From what Mildred told me, migraines sound like complicated buggers. Your body needs to be allowed time so that it can adjust at a pace it can handle. If you were to heal it away like you do a broken arm, you could go into shock or worse."

"Lovely. Anything else I should know?"

Sirius held out the phial so that it was right in front of Remus. "It's laced with a sleeping draught," he smirked. "You should be better when you wake up."

Sweet ambrosia! Remus grabbed the phial and downed it- it was indeed quite vile- immediately followed by the water Sirius now offered. He was now looking forward to the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. A hope quickly marred by Sirius getting up from the bed.

Why did he keep leaving? "Don't go."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, both of them as he'd never succeeded at raising just one. "I thought you wanted to be left alone, seeing as how snippy you've been."

"'m sorry," Remus hated being pitiful but there really was no way out of it right now. "Stay."

"Alright," was the soft reply.

Remus blearily watched Sirius peel off his clothes. "I've got the sexiest nurse," he yawned, finding that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"Not as sexy as my patient," Sirius chuckled as he slid between the sheets. "Budge over a bit, would you?"

Sirius settled himself so that their curled up bodies were facing each other but not touching so as not to disturb Remus. "Better?"

"Promise you'll stay?"

"Promise."

"Much better, then," Remus mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.