Cosseting by Mum-to-You

When Remus opened his eyes in the morning, the winter sun was as high in the sky as it ever got and streaming through the unshuttered window. He extracted his face from the pillow, then he blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Tentatively, he stretched his arms and legs, expecting the pain and stiffness that always followed his transformations. "Hmm," he thought to himself, "it's not too bad this time. Not bad at all." His next thought was to reach across the bed for Sirius. It hadn't quite been two days since he'd arrived, but Remus was already growing used to having him here. Sirius, however, wasn't lying next to him. He rose up on his elbows, still groggy, and looked around the room.

"Hey, Beautiful," Sirius' voice called out. Remus rolled over. Sirius was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, legs crossed, holding a tea mug.

"Only Sirius," Remus thought, "could wear my old pyjama trousers with the cuffs rolled up and manage to look elegant." He blushed furiously and grinned up at Sirius sheepishly. "Hardly that, I think. And how long have you been standing there anyway?"

Sirius grinned back. "Just got out of the shower, so not as long as I'd like, but long enough to wax poetic." He cleared his throat. "Remus John Lupin, when the morning sun shines on your hair, it lights up like a halo. You're a friggin' angel, aren't you?"

"Halo, my arse," Remus laughed, "it's grey hair, you big git." Remus sat up gingerly and rubbed his face. Sirius walked over and handed him the mug, which he accepted gratefully. Then Sirius leaned down, kissed him on the head, and flopped softly onto the bed next to him. Remus held the steaming cup in both hands and sniffed curiously. Then he looked at Sirius questioningly.

"Cinnamon chai. It's nearly Christmas, Moony. Live a little."

Remus raised an eyebrow and took a hesitant sip. He nodded appreciatively, then took a deeper draught and sighed. "This is good," he murmured. Then he looked over at Sirius with a surprised look. "You're pretty amazing, you know?"

Sirius grinned. "Too true, Moony, too true." Then he reached over and stroked Remus' bare back with a warm hand. "How are you feeling?"

Remus took another sip of tea and answered, nodding, "Not bad really. A little stiff, but not too sore this time." He looked up at Sirius, a little embarrassed, and then he put his head on Sirius' shoulder. "It's because you were with me, you know."

"I'm glad, Remus. It's good to be useful to someone again. Even better that the someone is you." Sirius sat there on the bed with his arm around Remus' thin shoulders, and they chatted while Remus sipped his tea.

"How long have you been up?"

"Awhile now. I fed Bucky before it got too light out."

"That's good. He probably needs some exercise."

"Yep. He was getting restless."

Sirius nuzzled Remus' ear while Remus took another drink of his tea and sighed.

"Say, Sirius. I wonder whom Harry'll ask to the Yule Ball. Did he say?"

"He didn't say whether he fancied someone in particular, if that's what you mean."

Remus was silent for a moment, then smiled to himself as he asked, "Do you think Hermione?"

Sirius exhaled noisily and gave it some thought. "Hmm. I rather doubt it, you know. I think that particular storm lies in a different direction. More towards Ron, I'd say."

"Harry?" Remus asked, making a face. "Oh, no, I don't think so, Padfoot."

"No, you silly poof, Hermione."

With a surprised smile, Remus shook his head and looked up at him. "How could you tell? I spent the whole year with them and didn't notice a thing."

Sirius laughed. "Now why doesn't that surprise me, Professor?"

They sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then Remus thought of something. "It's been a long time since you've had a real Christmas Dinner, hasn't it? Do you think a goose?"

"For just the two of us? Heavens, no. Chicken will be fine."

"Hardly seems festive, though."

"Anything besides roast rat will be plenty festive to me, Moony."

"Well, we'll have to see about that, won't we? Plum pudding?"

"Mmm. Definitely. Can't have Christmas without that. You'd best leave the Sickle for me, though. Can't have you swallowing something like that."

Sirius scooted back on the bed, then he placed both hands on Remus' shoulders and massaged them gently. Remus rolled his head back and forth and closed his eyes before speaking. "Merlin, that feels good."

"Are you hungry? I can make you some toast."

"Not especially. I'll just have some of those chocolate biscuits from tea yesterday."

"For breakfast? Remus, that's not healthy!"

Remus snickered. "All right, toast then."

"That's better."

"And biscuits for elevenses."

Sirius just sighed. He reached over and took the empty cup from him, then leaned over to kiss him.

"Oh, no fair, Padfoot. You've cleaned your teeth!"

"Shut your gob, Moony."

"I'm trying to," Remus giggled, "but your tongue keeps getting in the way."

"Don't be impertinent."

"Ooh, that's a very big word, Sirius."

"Don't be condescending either."

After another lingering kiss, Remus threw off the quilt and made to stand up.

"Moony, just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Remus looked over at him, incredulous. He wasn't sure what to reply. "Erm, getting dressed?" he asked.

"And just why?"

"Well, I hope you don't expect me to come to breakfast with my John Thomas hanging out all over the place!"

Sirius snorted. "All over the place? Really, Remus, it's not that big."

"Oh, nice. Thanks awfully for pointing that out," Remus snickered as he put his feet on the floor.

"Let me bring something to you here. Biscuits, if you like. Lie back down and rest."

"I just woke up, Sirius. I don't need to rest." Remus stood up, wobbled a bit, and put his hand on the bed to steady himself. Sirius was up like a shot and over the bed. He grabbed both of Remus' arms to support him.

"Sirius! I'm fine, for Merlin's sake."

Sirius eyed him worriedly and fetched the cane that was leaning against the wardrobe. Remus barely had time to shift his weight onto the cane when Sirius returned to his side carrying his clothes. He ignored Remus' exasperated protests and gathered up his jumper to slide it over his head.

"Padfoot, I'm fine. Better than last night. You don't have to—" the rest of his protest was muffled in wool, and he resigned himself to Sirius' help with the jumper.

When Sirius picked up his underpants, however, Remus had had enough. He snatched them out his hand and said, "Dammit, Sirius. I absolutely do not need help putting my pants on!"

He sat on the bed and slipped into his pants and trousers, with Sirius trying to help at every turn. Remus kept slapping his hand away playfully. "You don't need to cosset me, Sirius."

"Cosset? Merlin, Moony, where do you come up with words like that?"

"Cosset, you illiterate barbarian, happens to be a perfectly acceptable Anglo-Norman transitive verb, probably dating from at least 1570."

Sirius looked at him blankly. "You don't say. Why, that's just so fascinating."

"And, for your information, it's also probably a derivation of the Old English word for kiss."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Really? Now that is interesting."

"As in kiss my arse."

Sirius threw him a baleful look. "You've hurt me now, Remus. I'm deeply wounded, and I shan't recover for days."

They grinned at each other. That was the best part, they both knew that—the silliness. The sex was good. Hell, the sex was as great as it had always been. But it was the everyday conversation, the ease of being around each other, the sense of companionship in an otherwise hostile world that they had missed the most.

Sirius reached out and placed his hand on Remus' cheek. "Let's get you some breakfast, Sleeping Beauty."

Remus reached up and put his hand over Sirius'. "Padfoot, I'm sorry about my temper last night. I don't know what came over me."

This comment earned Remus a little half smile from Sirius. "Maybe the fact that you're approaching the--what would it be by now--the 400th time you've made that little shift, it's starting to wear on you, eh?"

Remus looked down at his bare feet. "Something like that. I should've known you'd understand."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I won't pretend to understand lycanthropy, Moony. That would be impertinent and condescending, wouldn't it?" He was glad when he saw Remus smile a little.

They looked at each other for a moment, then Remus said, "But you do understand what it's like to be angry about something that's happened to you that's unfair and that you can't do anything about. That one, you have a handle on."

Tears began to form on Sirius' eyelashes, but he had no intention of crying like a baby twice in as many days. He cleared his throat and said hoarsely, "Breakfast, you. Then maybe a walk down to the beach?"

Remus nodded, but added, "I might not be up to playing fetch just now, Paddy."

Sirius pulled Remus into his arms. "No matter. Stupid game anyway. Throw the stick, bring it back. Throw the stick again, bring it back again. What's the point, really?"

Remus giggled into Sirius' shoulder.

"And after that, I'm putting you back to bed, and no arguments on that," Sirius stated, "and stop giggling, by the way. That's twice now, and it's very unlike you."

At that, Remus buried his face against Sirius' neck, laughing, clinging to him. When he spoke though, his words were serious. "I need you desperately, Sirius. I realize how very much now.We need each other, I think."

Sirius held him tightly. "I know, love. I know," he whispered, and then he lifted Remus' face to his and kissed him very, very thoroughly. "When I get you back in bed later, I'm going to cosset you rather a lot. All over. Best be prepared for that."

Remus tried to look very serious and replied, "That, I think I can be, erm, up for," but he dissolved into giggles again. Sirius just rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Sirius?" Remus murmured into his shoulder, "May I cosset you back?"

"I'd be extremely disappointed if you didn't, Remus."

"I probably won't behave much like an angel, though."

Sirius giggled and said, "Beautiful."