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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, or anything associated with it. I'm not making any money from this story, and I don't intend to.
Challenge & Summary: Challenge SS #09: One of the boys spends too much time outside in the sun and the subsequent sunburn results. How one takes care of the other is up to you. Too much time in the sun never ends well. Except when it does.
Author Notes: Quick (~1500 words), fun, and fluffy never hurt anyone, right?
“It’s all your fault anyway,” Remus grumbled, lying perfectly still on the coverlet of the bed and glaring at Sirius.
Well, he was glaring, but he didn’t think Sirius could really tell that, since Remus had his eyes shut.
“You should know better than to listen to me!” Sirius cried indignantly, and Remus wanted to laugh. Would’ve, too, if he could move without causing himself horrible pain.
“That’s not quite how you want to defend yourself, for future reference,” Remus muttered, trying very hard not to move his jaw much when he spoke.
“I really thought the spell would work!”
Remus murmured a sound of approval. “Better defense.”
“Damn it, Moony, I’m not trying to—I’m… I’m sorry,” he finally finished, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he stared at Lupin lying motionless on his bed.
“Don’t be sorry,” Remus replied, taking a deep breath. “Just fix it.”
Sirius shook his head. “I can’t. There’s nothing to be done. Just have to wait until it goes away, unless you want to admit to Madame Pomfrey where we were all day.”
“At this point, I’d take the detention.”
“D’you realize how much trouble we’d be in?!”
“D’you realize how much pain I’m in?! Sirius, I can barely move!”
“I know!” Sirius replied, obviously distressed. “But honestly, I thought—“
“—the spell would work, I know, I know.”
Sirius fretted at the side of the bed for a moment. “It really hurts?”
“If I move a muscle, it feels like my skin is on fire.”
“The potion didn’t help?”
“Does it look like it helped?!” Remus snapped, and Sirius, thoroughly cowed at this point, winced and gave Remus a quick once-over.
“I see what you mean.”
Remus was lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of shorts, and sporting a spectacularly vibrant shade of red over almost every exposed patch of skin. Even standing a foot away from him, Sirius thought he could feel the angry heat rising off Remus. He’d tried a soothing potion, a salve he’d gotten a few months back after he’d burned himself doing God knew what (Remus hadn’t asked), rubbing it very carefully onto Remus’ skin, and although it had helped the burning for a few minutes, it wore off quickly and left Remus still red, hot, and now a little oily.
It had, as most things had, been Sirius’ idea to sneak away that day to go swimming. The far side of the lake, where they would be less likely to be seen, of course. After all, who knew how many more gorgeous, warm, sunny days like this they’d get? And who knew how many more gorgeous, warm, sunny days they’d get to spend together? With graduation looming, Sirius intended to make the most of their remaining days at school.
They’d made enough of this day, certainly, but it had been so sunny. And although Sirius had assured Remus that the spell would work, it hadn’t, and now, the sunburn was threatening to eat Remus alive.
Miserable, Remus blinked and closed his eyes again, keeping every limb a safe distance from his torso.
“Well…” Sirius began. “Well… should we try more of this?” he asked, holding up the bottle of mint-green lotion.
Remus sighed and then winced as even the motion of his breathing made his skin burn. “I guess. Anything’s better than this.”
Sirius nodded and unstopped the bottle, pouring a little into his hands and rubbing them together vigorously.
“What are you doing?” Remus asked as he listened to the sound of Sirius’ hands sliding together, slick and liquid-y and… a little suggestive.
“I’m warming it up,” Sirius replied, distracted, and Remus snorted. It took Sirius a minute to realize why he was being made fun of. “Oh. Well, still. Wouldn’t want it to be too cold and shock you into stopping your heart or anything.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “If you were going to shock my heart into stopping, that would’ve happened a long time ago.”
“Okay, well… don’t move,” Sirius instructed, trying for a weak joke, and Remus managed a weak laugh.
He didn’t exactly jump when he felt Sirius’ hands on his left arm, but he tensed, expecting the familiar seething pain.
“Sorry,” Sirius murmured, gently running his palms as carefully as he could up to Remus’ shoulder, then back down, moving to repeat the gesture on his other arm. “Is it helping at all?”
Remus considered this. The dampness of the lotion was cooling his skin off, and it wasn’t making it worse by any means. He supposed it might be helping a little with the pain, even if it wasn’t helping much else. “Yeah, it’s helping.”
Sirius gave him a perfunctory nod, a gesture Remus suspected he’d picked up from spending so much time under Madame Pomfrey’s care, and moved to do Remus’ legs.
“How’m I going to go to class tomorrow?” Remus asked in a somewhat distracted tone.
“It’ll be better by tomorrow,” Sirius replied, concentrating on Remus’ shoulders again.
“Well,” Remus said with a resigned sigh, “if it isn’t, you’re the one that’s going to have to bother taking notes for a change so I’ve something to study from.”
At that, Sirius turned the precise shade of the lotion. “It’ll be better by tomorrow,” he repeated, this time, a little note of panic in his tone, and Remus had to smile.
Meanwhile, Sirius was pouring more lotion into his palms, rubbing them together to warm it up a bit, and Remus squirmed a little on the bed.
“Ow,” he muttered.
“I told you not to move,” Sirius replied.
“Can’t help it. You’re…”
Sirius looked intrigued. “I’m what?”
“It’s… never mind.”
“You get stranger by the day,” Sirius replied, and rubbed his hands together once more.
And once more, Remus squirmed.
“Why d’you keep moving around like that?” Sirius demanded.
Had Remus’ cheeks not already been a flaming shade of red, his blush would’ve been obvious. “You keep… doing that.”
“Doing what?” Sirius was getting a little exasperated.
“That. With your hands, and the… it’s… well, it sounds a little… suggestive, and it’s making me…”
Sirius smirked. “Hot?”
“You’re not funny in the slightest.”
“Really?” Sirius asked, going on as if Remus hadn’t spoken. “This makes you hot?” He slid his palms against each other, listening both to that and Remus’ breathing.
“Not fair, Sirius,” Remus replied, and Sirius knew he wasn’t kidding. He’d used Sirius’ real name after all.
“What isn’t fair about this?”
“I can’t do anything! I can’t even move!”
Sirius raised his eyebrows archly and leaned over Remus. “Who said you had to do anything? C’mon. Maybe this’ll take your mind off things.”
And then one damp, slippery, cool hand was sliding underneath the waistband of Remus’ shorts and this time when Remus tensed, it wasn’t from pain.
“Oh God,” Remus breathed, hips arching up to meet Sirius’ hand.
“Hold still!” Sirius ordered immediately. “You can’t move, remember?”
Somewhere, Remus thought that yes, moving like that might have caused him pain, but as most of his attention was focused elsewhere, he found he really wasn’t concerned about that. But he muttered, “Right,” anyway and relaxed back against the coverlet.
Then Sirius’ fingers were wrapping around him, stroking smoothly, and the sound, God, that sound of skin sliding against wet, oily skin… Remus whimpered helplessly and Sirius just grinned.
“I see what you mean,” he remarked in a conversational tone, “about that sound. All you have to do is close your eyes and listen and…” He drifted off, not finishing the sentence, his hand moving minutely faster over Remus’ cock.
“Sirius, please,” Remus gasped, his fingers (the only things he could really move that didn’t hurt) grasping the coverlet tightly.
“Close?” Sirius asked, and there was, the bastard, amusement in his voice.
“Yes, damn it, come on! Faster!”
“Pretty demanding for someone who can’t even move.”
“Please!” Remus cried, and his voice broke. And so did Sirius’ resolve to tease him. With practiced precision, he sped up his pace, stroking firmly and quickly and watching Remus’ face as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly, trying to keep still. Three more strokes, two, one, and then Remus made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, every muscle in his body going rigid, and then Sirius' hand wasn’t cold and wet but hot and wet.
“How do you feel now?” Sirius asked, a note of self-satisfaction in his voice, as he leaned over Remus, mouths almost touching.
Remus blinked up at him and then smiled. “I don’t know. I think I feel a little better. Doesn’t hurt as much. But it’s still pretty bad. You might have to keep taking my mind off the pain for awhile, you know.”
“You’re so hilarious,” Sirius replied dryly. “Really, your humor, it’s too much.” But he was already leaning forward, pressing his mouth against Remus’ (carefully) and grinning.
Remus grinned back. “Honestly, I’m on fire.”
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