After the Moon

After the Moon

*

James

***

Remus lay on his bed, unmoving. His whole body was aching, and especially his head hurt. As he tried to move his arm, a sharp pain shot right through the muscles. Wincing in pain, Remus dared a look at the arm. There was a deep, barely scarred gash all the way from his wrist to the shoulder. On his other arm he saw a couple of other fresh scars, but those were all relatively small. He knew that the sheets hid several scars more, both new and old, but none of those hurt as much as the one on his left arm. Just his luck, to have his better arm badly injured.

"Psst," he heard a sudden sound. His head jerked up, and his eyes scanned the room. Although the old stories were right about werewolves having a superior sense of smell because of their Lycanthropy, these stories always missed the just as factual detail that the day just after the full moon all their senses were dulled out. Therefore, Remus could not know whether somebody else was in the room, or if he had just imagined the sound.

"Who's there?" he asked warily to the seemingly empty room, flinching as even forming the simple words hurt.

"It's me, Moony," he heard an urgent whisper from next to him. Glancing up in surprise, he saw James's broad grin and messy hair appearing from beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"Prongs," he breathed, trying to ignore the jolt of sharp pain that again awoke in his throat at the simple act of speaking. However, even though James had missed it the first time he'd spoken, now the other boy certainly noticed it.

"Don't speak," James said, frowning slightly in concern. "Merlin, you look truly awful." Remus opened his mouth to reply, but the stern glance he got from James made him settle on a timid nod.

"Sirius and Peter got stuck in a detention," the bespectacled boy replied his unspoken question. "I should have had one, too, but the guys told McGonagall I hadn't done anything so I could get here. I don't know how I'll ever repay them."

Never in his life had Remus felt so grateful to the two of his friends that were absent. He craved nothing as much as James's simple presence at the moment, and seemingly Sirius and Peter realized that also.

"Did you get badly hurt?" asked James. "Don't say anything, just shake your head or nod. And please, do tell me the truth."

At first, Remus started to shake his head, but then thought better about it. Giving James a timid nod, he moved his left arm a little, indicating that he had hurt it. His boyfriend leant forward a little to see the freshly scarred wound, and drew a sharp breath when he saw it.

"Oh, Merlin," James breathed, his eyes widening in shock. "You rarely got that bad wounds even when we weren't there with you."

Nodding tiredly, Remus sighed deep. He knew that better than well. Ever since he was four, every full moon had made him a monster, and even though he'd torn himself apart every time, usually his superhuman healing skills soon made him able to function normally. Now, however, he knew already that he wouldn't be able to use his left arm properly for a few days.

James seemed to sense what he was thinking, since he forced himself to smile. "Don't worry, I'll copy my notes for you. I'm sure that teachers will give you extra time with your homework, too."

"Yeah..." Remus yawned. "Always so encouraging, aren't you?"

"Hey, I'm just trying my best," said James with a smirk. Then he kneeled down on the side of his bed. "Can I do anything for you?" he asked concernedly. Obviously he didn't think Remus was in condition to speak yet.

Remus hesitated, then nodded. For some reason he already felt better with James there, at least enough to speak. "Just stay," he said quietly, then added, "please?"

"Of course, love," James replied. "I'll stay. I'd do nothing rather."

"Good," Remus sighed, then yawned yet again. "God, I'm so tired..."

"Then rest," advised his boyfriend gently. James took the werewolf's hand hesitantly and, after glancing questioningly at Remus and receiving a timid nod in return, brought it briefly to his lips. It wasn't a kiss by the word, rather just a simple contact between James's lips and the faintly scarred hand.

Remus leant back to his pillow and closed his eyes. As it was only the day after the full moon, he couldn't get any pleasure or even comfort from their brief bodily contact. Rather he felt rather uncomfortable with the touch, but he wouldn't let it show. Even though he didn't like the touch, he knew that James needed it. And for James, he could easily bear the slight discomfort.

James seemed to notice his uncomfortableness after all, since he let Remus's hand back to the bed quickly, not lingering in contact. "Now, rest," commanded the other boy again gently. "I'll stay as long as I can."

Remus nodded wearily in response, then slowly relaxed as much as his aching muscles would allow him. He listened to James's quiet voice, idle chatter about school, Quidditch, and other students. Nothing too important, nothing that mattered. Only James mattered, only his soothing presence was important.

James stopped talking as he noticed that Remus had fallen asleep. 'He looks cute when he's asleep,' James thought. Remus always looked a bit fragile and younger than his age, especially around the full moon. And yet there were hidden strength and age in him, a kind of maturity his friends couldn't even dream of achieving before they'd lived decades more - if even then.

After taking another careful look to ensure that Remus truly was well asleep, he reached out a hand to wipe a stray lock of the golden hair from the werewolf's pale face.

James knew very well about Remus's discomfort about touching near the full moon. As soon as they'd found out that Remus was a werewolf, he'd sought any knowledge about werewolves he could find. And later, when he'd started dating Remus, he'd tried to find out everything he could about werewolves' mating habits.

Of course, most of it was rubbish - werewolves certainly didn't form a lifelong bond with their first sex partner, although they did have special strong mating bonds - but there was also some truth in the bottom of it. Like the fact that not a young werewolf could feel any kind of sexual need or pleasure around the full moon. They didn't feel wholly comfortable even with a simple touch, like he'd noticed several times by himself. Apparently the purpose of that was to drive their possible mate away for the full moon to keep them safe. Over time, the previously only behavioristic trait had turned into a biological fact that was installed into every werewolf the very moment they were bitten.

By time it would get easier, of course. When a werewolf reached a certain point of maturity, they could form a bond with their mate that allowed the mate to stay in human form during the transformation and not be harmed. Of course, at this point, the mate did not need the safety, and therefore the instincts eased a bit. However, as it had become biology, the fact about not having sexual need or pleasure was still existent, but they could at least bear gentle touch from their mate. And only from their mate, that was.

As Remus was still far too young to form a mating bond, James was always extremely careful whenever he touched Remus around full moons. When his boyfriend was released from the Infirmary, he never made any moves on him until Remus had come to him by himself. Just the same way he stopped sneaking into Remus's bed a week before the full moon night each month, leaving it to Remus to decide whether they had any "bedtime activities" at those nights. Remus seemed to be fine with this arrangement, so James kept up with it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he saw the jagged scar on Remus's left arm. His boyfriend had never had it easy, and never would have. Even once they left the school, Remus would always have difficulties - getting further education, getting a proper job, anything. Of course, James would have been wholly ready to support his lover financially, but he knew that Remus would never accept that.

A chuckle came out as he got a mental image of Remus as a househusband. Was that even a word? Well, at the very least Remus would skin him alive if he ever even thought about calling him "housewife." And anyway, there was a wizarding institute in France that only provided education to werewolves, as well as some "safe" jobs Remus could have. However, he could never become for example a mediwizard - except one for werewolves, and there weren't many open jobs for those.

A quiet sigh from Remus interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to look at his boyfriend in an instant. The werewolf seemed to be sleeping rather peacefully, however, so he relaxed again.

Sharp steps from the rest of the Infirmary - Remus had a small private room so nobody could see his wounds - brought him soon back to awareness. Acting as fast as he could, James covered himself again with his Invisibility Cloak.

"Aww, he's asleep," said Madam Pomfrey as she stepped into the room. "Very well, he should rest anyway." Then he nodded her head to the general direction of James. "Do you really think I don't know you are here, Mister Potter? Go now, it's well about the time you do."

"Okay," said James with a sheepish grin, dropping the hood of his cloak again. "I was just giving him company."

"I know that, and I'm glad you did," the mediwitch said gently. "I've noticed that Remus is always better after your visits. However, you must not stay with him all the time. Surely you have homework to do, and friends awaiting you?"

"You're right," said the young Gryffindor. "I'll be on my way!" And with that, he jumped up and sprang to the door.

"Oh, and James?" the mediwitch called out. "I do believe you owe your friends a detention."

James chuckled and left the Infirmary, leaving his boyfriend to sleep.