WARNING: Slash inside.

DISCLAIMER: The boys aren't mine, but the headache the prompted the story is …

As always, for Hannah.

Kiss It Better?


Secret Slashyness

Sirius Black lay completely immobilised, stretched out on his bed, with his hand resting limply on his forehead. A damp washcloth was lying on his head, and he had thrown his shirt away when he'd lay down. His chin length black hair was tousled and damp, and his cheeks were flushed with agitation.

He had a headache.

"I'm dying, Moony!" He whimpered pathetically, and the patient boy sitting quietly next to him reading his Arithmancy textbook absently reached out and patted the limp boy's hand.

"There, there, Padfoot," he replied. "It'll get better soon. You have to let it run its course."

"But I'm a wizard, Moony," he said. "I should be able to make this go away. Or Madam Pomfrey should, that's what she's here for."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "But she banned you from her hospital unless you were in serious danger of dying, and you're not, no matter what you say, so you're stuck with it."

"But what about that Panafol stuff you have?" Sirius asked, rolling onto his side a little. "That's a good makerer-go-away-erer."

"I didn't know headache resulted in loss of vocabulary," Remus commented, and Sirius nodded as vigorously as his pounding headache would let him.

"That's because you haven't had one this bad," Sirius told him.

Remus finally looked up from his book.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked sympathetically.

"Yes," Sirius said and a tiny tear fell from his eye.

"I wish I could help you," Remus said, leaning forward and brushing Sirius' hair away from his eyes.

"Kiss it better?" Sirius pleaded suddenly. Remus blinked.


"Kiss it better. You're magical, Moony, I'm sure you could make it go away."

"You're magical too, Sirius. We're wizards."

"But I can't do magic on myself, can I?" Sirius said logically. "Come on, Remus, please? It really hurts."

Remus didn't move.

"It's either you kiss me or you keep talking," Sirius told him.

"You want me to talk?"

"Yes. The low tone of your voice helps to soothe it … somehow." Sirius blushed a bit with this.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Oh, I don't care!" Sirius said and moaned. "But hurry up, because it hurts! It'd be better if you kissed me, you know. Right on my temples, where it's pounding like crazy."

Remus looked down at him again and he had to admit that Sirius looked a little worse for wear.

"Alright, Sirius." He said finally, and leant down. He quickly pressed his lips to each of Sirius' temples and leaned back.

"It didn't work," Sirius said petulantly. "Do it again."

"Sirius, I-."

"Moony! It hurts. If you don't kiss me better, I'm not going to care the next time you're in pain."

Remus knew this wasn't true, but he moved from the chair, onto the side of the bed and leant over Sirius' body again. With a quick look into the other boy's eyes, he gave a slow, soft kiss to his right temple. Sirius stopped breathing. Without pausing, Remus turned his head and kissed his left temple. He let his lips linger as he pulled back, and was met by Sirius' eyes staring at him intently.

"Better?" Remus asked.

"No." Sirius said quietly, "Do it again."

And Remus dutifully leant forward and kissed each of his temples again.

"Better?" he asked again.

"No," Sirius said in a voice barely more than a whisper. "Try it here." He tapped a point of his head that was just slightly lower than his temples. Remus kissed it.


"No," Sirius couldn't even use his voice by now. Remus leant in again, and kissed each temple one more time, before he pulled back and his eyes locked involuntarily onto Sirius'. In seconds, he was kissing Sirius, and Sirius had his hands on the back of his head and was pulling him closer, and then on his shoulders, pulling him further onto the bed.

Remus toppled, and landed full on Sirius. His hands brushed the hair back from Sirius' forehead again and tangled in the thick, dampness at his nape. Sirius was moaning again, but this time Remus didn't think it was from the headache.

The headache. Remus pulled back suddenly.

"Is that better?" he asked, although his voice was even lower than it had been before.

"No," Sirius growled, and then Remus didn't care much about Sirius' head felt, because his own felt as though it was made of marshmallow. Which was a bad thing, because it was marshmallows and sugar that had gotten Sirius into this situation in the first place.

But Remus didn't want to get him out of it.