RemusxSirius

Summary: In which Sirius has a cold and Remus tries to work. Needless to say, they find something much more interesting to focus on.

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No Excuse

"Are you planning on doing that at all?"

Sirius sniffed and nudged the parchment and textbooks on the floor in disgust. His silver eyes scanned the heap of homework and his head gave a particularly hard throb. He winced in pain and wiped his dripping nose with the back of his hand.

"I'm too ill to work."

Remus cocked a thin eyebrow and looked up at Sirius from his spot on the floor. He pushed his honey-coloured hair out of his lined face, leaving a black splodge of ink on his cheek.

"That's no excuse, you know. McGonagall said this essay has to be in by tomorrow and she isn't going to let you off just because you have a cold..."

Sirius looked scandalized. "Just a cold? Just a bloody cold? Moony, I'm dying! I'm pretty damn certain I have pneumonia. Double! Maybe even triple!"

"Trust you to think you have three lungs," Remus said, turning back to his essay and clicking his tongue. Sirius nudged him with his toe and sniggered.

"You have ink on your face. As fetching as it looks, I doubt it'll become the next biggest fashion statement."

Remus flushed and rubbed his cheek, but he just ended up smudging it more. Sirius laughed and licked his index finger, beckoning at Remus. "Come here, Remmykins! Let uncle Sirius clean you up!"

"Uncle Sirius? That makes you sound even more perverted that you already are!"

"You know you love it," Sirius chuckled, sliding off the chair and landing with a thump besides Remus. He reached out and gave the ink a firm rub with his finger. It faded and disappeared completely. "All gone."

Remus smiled slightly and turned back to his essay, face pink. He made a weak attempt at writing something but gave up; his hand was suddenly trembling. Sirius watched him intently for a few moments, before collapsing into fits of giggles.

"You've gone the same colour as Peter's underwear!"

Remus found it hard to keep a straight face. His lips twitched as Sirius laughed helplessly besides him, his cheeks red. The werewolf could feel the heat spreading over his entire body. It was almost as if he had swallowed a tankard of fresh Butterbeer.

"And how do you know Peter wears pink undergarments?"

Sirius paused, breathing heavily. "I...piss off, Remus!"

Remus chuckled and twirled his quill between his thin fingers, whilst Sirius sneezed next to him, curse words and hexes tumbling from his lips. Taking this distraction as a chance to write a couple more words, Remus put the nib to his parchment. But, as he was about to write, Sirius put his arm around his waist and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. Well, it was more of a peck somewhere near his chin, but it made Remus blush the colour of the setting sun nonetheless.

"Sirius! What in the name of Merlin did you just do?"

"Christ, I thought you were the smartest in the group!"

Sirius grinned, his eyes watering from sneezing so much. He licked his lips and pulled the quill from Remus's grasp. Satisfied when Remus made no attempt at getting it back, Sirius moved closer to the lycanthrope, pressing so near that their arms were touching and Remus could feel silky black hair brushing his face.

"Padfoot? What are you-"

Sirius was breathing rather thickly and his cheeks were bright red. Remus felt a pang of guilt; perhaps Sirius really was ill? Were you supposed to get such a fever while a mere cold? Without thinking, he reached out and placed his cool fingers on the Animgus's forehead.

"You're really hot, Sirius."

"You mean that?" Sirius said his smile widening. "Glad you think so, Moony. Because you aren't so bad either. To be honest, I think you're pretty damn sexy."

Remus felt his jaw drop. "I didn't mean-"

But Sirius clearly wasn't listening. He traced his fingers over Remus's shoulder, up his neck and then eventually let them ghost over his cheek. He smiled softly, thrilled when Remus shivered and licked his lips in anticipation.

"Is that nice?"

"Hmmm."

Sirius caressed Remus's skin for a few seconds then moved his hand further up, so his fingers knotted gently into his hair. Remus swallowed and tried to ignore the huge rush of adrenaline that flew through his veins. His vision blurred and he shut his eyes for a moment too long.

Lips pressed softly against his mouth and a shiver crept up his spine. He couldn't actually be sure this was happening, surely Sirius wasn't kissing him? Remus opened his eyes and his jaw dropped of its own accord.

Remus tasted of chocolate and warmth, Sirius decided. He ran his tongue softly along the smaller boy's lower lip and nibbled gently. Remus made a noise in the back of his throat and, slowly and tenderly, tangled his hand into Sirius's hair.

"Bet I get that damn cold now," Remus said croakily when Sirius broke the kiss. He waited for his head to stop spinning and realized that Sirius was giggling. "What's so funny?"

"You really are the colour of Peter's pants now..."

"I'm still waiting to know how you-"

"Shut up and let me kiss you."

Remus obliged. He parted his lips and let Sirius make love to his mouth with his tongue. Sirius had obviously kissed quite a few people. But Remus didn't want to think about that, certainly not while he was practically sat with Sirius on his lap and his tongue invading his mouth.

Sirius grinned almost triumphantly. He wound his arms around Remus and buried his fingers deeper into his hair. Remus snickered against his lips and pulled Sirius on top of him. They both toppled back over, flattening their parchment and textbooks. Remus heard his bottle of ink smash open but he just kissed Sirius harder, slipping his hands up his shirt and over his chest. Sirius moaned softly and ducked his head, his teeth clamping down on Remus's neck and biting his pale skin.

"You vampire!"

"I'm a great vampire; I suck blood and give colds all in one go!"

"I bet my essay's bloody ruined now."

"What would you rather do? Write shit for McGonagall or have a nice blowjob from yours truly?"

Remus smirked and yanked Sirius into yet another passionate kiss. The essay lay on the floor, drenched in ink and torn beneath a pile of books.

But it was soon very much forgotten.