Massage

This is written for Hollis (aka the adorable tesseract_5), who requested Remus, Sirius and footrubs a very long time ago for her birthday. Props to Jazzypom for the beta and assistance with the healing oils!

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Sirius woke with a start on hearing the clink of china in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

He had decided he'd wait up for Remus to return from his most recent liaison with the Newcastle werewolves. However, too tired to stay awake any longer, he had dropped off sometime around two in the morning, sound asleep in the comfortable overstuffed armchair by the fire grate.

Now, jerking his head up from the armchair at the noise, he leapt to his bare feet. "Who's there?" he shouted, wand at the ready.

"Padfoot, it's OK. It's only me."

Sirius relaxed at the reassuring sound of Remus' hoarse voice over by the sideboard, where he was aiming a heating charm at the kettle. "You're back!" he said, relieved. "Finally." He yawned, noting the low glow of embers of the fireplace. "What time is it?"

"Just past five," Remus replied.

Sirius tucked his wand away in his belt then crossed over to the sideboard to join Remus, slipping his arms around Remus' waist and leaning his forehead against Remus' shoulder. He could almost feel Remus' face crack into a fond smile at the touch.

"Right soppy bastard," Remus cajoled, leaning back into the embrace anyway. Yet as Remus' body settled against him, Sirius heard a low but distinct hiss.

Sirius well recognized that sound--Remus in pain and trying his best to hide it. He released Remus and stepped back a bit, noting his awkward stance at the sideboard. "Moony? You all right there, mate?"

"Yeah, I'm--" and he hissed again as he shifted his feet.

"You're bloody well not all right. Come on, sit down and let's have a look." Sirius squeezed his arm.

"I'm fine, Padfoot, really. My feet are just a little sore--"

Sirius scowled as Remus clutched the sideboard for support. "Right, and I'm the sodding Minister of Magic," he scoffed. "You can barely stand, mate, and I highly doubt you can walk. Now let's. Go. Sit."

To emphasize his point, Sirius withdrew his wand again, levitating Remus where he stood.

"What are you--HEY!" Remus yelped as he rose three feet above the stone floor. Before he could protest further however, Sirius had lowered him into the overstuffed armchair by the fire that Sirius had just slept in. Another wand flick and the battered ottoman in the corner of the kitchen, scooted across the stone floor to support Remus' feet.

Sirius finished up the heating charm on the kettle, and with three more deft wand flicks sent a mug of steaming Earl Grey to the armchair. Next he Summoned one small bowl out of the cupboard, filling it with hot water from the kettle, then placing a freezing charm on it. He sent that and a selection of clean dish rags to the floor beside the chair, then finally Summoned a small amber glass bottle from the pantry. That he carried over himself as he went back towards Remus.

Remus studied him over the lip of his steaming mug, his face crinkled with curious amusement. "What have we going on here, Pads?" Then his face sobered. "You don't have to do anything, I'm home and that's all that matters--"

Sirius cocked an imperious eyebrow at him. "Shut up, Moony." He waved his hand and Remus' feet lifted off the ottoman. Sirius sat down on it, and lowered Remus' feet into his lap. Sirius frowned at the condition of Remus' leather boots--caked with mud and something that looked a little too much like blood for Sirius' comfort, they looked as if they had been torn to shreds. Remus had patched them, but the charms were just barely holding.

"Sirius, really there's no need--" Remus protested again.

"Stop with the Saint Remus-the-martyr act," Sirius snapped. He deftly Vanished Remus' cracked and worn boots and meticulously darned socks to reveal two very red, hot and swollen feet. The smell from them was particularly worrisome--a faint stench of mold and decay from whatever had been on his boots.

"What in Merlin's name did you do to your FEET?" Sirius gasped.

Remus inhaled, another sharper hiss as his feet visibly expanded, from being cramped into too-tight socks and boots. Sirius felt them throb between his hands. "The Newcastle pack," he sighed. "Their idea of greeting outsiders is a one-hour soak in an ice-cold, ankle-deep running stream at the edge of their territory, followed by a ten kilometre hike to their cave cache. Not the direct route either. They choose the rockiest, most jagged and most roundabout terrain to take, really tears up one's boots. They won't accept a visitor unless he can manage this feat."

Sirius whistled, imagining the sheer physical hell Remus had gone through just to meet with the pack alpha. It was May, and growing warm after all, but the rivers and streams were still icy cold. "For that I hope you were able to convince them not to join with Greyback."

Remus frowned, a look of ragged dismay crossing his features. "He listened, but made no promises."

Sirius shook his head, studying Remus' sorry feet. He touched them gingerly, not wanting to aggravate them further, feeling Remus' pulse throb at the ankle. There was a clear indented band on his calves just above the ankle, where the ribbing of the socks had dug into the skin as his feet swelled. They looked sore, but thankfully not injured; a little bit of care should set them right again. He waved his hand at the ice bowl; several ice cubes jumped into a clean dish rag and wrapped themselves up. Sirius picked up the cold compress and laid it gently against Remus' soles.

"Oh holy Merlin," Remus groaned, fighting and failing to hold back a note of agony. Sirius watched intently as Remus squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, tensing with the cold and fingernails digging into the stuffed arms of the chair. Sirius looked back down and just as gently moved the compress around over heel, sole, arch and toes to reduce the swelling.

" 'S OK, mate, just relax," Sirius muttered, long hair draping over his face as he concentrated on healing Remus' feet.

After a few minutes of icing Remus' feet, he watched as Remus began to relax his grip on the armchair; as the redness and swelling abated and his feet began to approach normal size again. Sirius studied his face as the pain began to drain away, as some of the lines smoothed out and his mouth grew slack with relief. The low light of the embers threw a rosy hue to his shaggy greying hair, making him look years and years younger. Sirius smiled fondly through his overlong fringe.

He set the now near-melted ice compress down on the floor and pressed his thumbs into Remus' feet again. Remus did not flinch; rather he sighed in contentment.

"How are your feet feeling now?"

"Much better," Remus murmured, slurring a bit as if he were almost asleep.

Sirius nodded, then Summoned the amber vial. The vial slid obediently to the side of the ottoman. He leaned over to pick up the vial, rubbing it between his hands to warm it. He then uncapped it and tipped some of its contents into his palm. The pungent sweetness of peppermint and the heady fragrance of lavender flooded the kitchen. Sirius inhaled deeply, the essences relaxing him and waking him at the same time.

Remus opened one bleary eye; the smell woke him up. "Peppermint and lavender?" he asked curiously, leaning over to see.

Sirius nodded. "With rosemary and benzoin. Ancient family remedy for sore feet. Say what you will about the Blacks, at least they knew how to take care of a body."

Remus grinned and leaned back in the chair. "I suppose that explains your dedicated ministrations to me after every full moon," he said softly.

Sirius didn't look up, but smiled all the same. "You could say that," he agreed, a little diffidently. He rubbed his hands together, coating them with the oil, then began to gently massage the back of Remus' ankle.

Sirius worked his thumb pads into the calloused skin on Remus' right heel, rubbing the oil gently in. Remus relaxed completely, his legs growing lax and heavy in Sirius' lap as Sirius slid his fingers further down towards the arch. Remus had delicate feet, long and slender and elegant like his hands; beautiful feet, even despite the years of breaking and re-forming bones every month that left them a little knobbly, not quite as sleek as they had been in their youth. On down to the pad of his foot, again calloused from years of wearing ill-fitting shoes; Remus winced a bit as Sirius worked his fingers into the tender flesh, massaging the pad and lightly rubbing the ridges of the metatarsals above. Then finally to each of his toes, the second one longer than the big toe; he circled his fingertips over the small sprays of fine hair over the joints. Remus' toenails were cut clean across, but very dry and, Sirius saw, cracking from being soaked in the cold dank stream for so long. He rubbed a little more oil into his toes, paying special attention to the corners where nail met flesh.

When he looked up again, Remus was sprawled in the armchair, a faint, even goofy smile on his face and his eyes closed. "Where the hell did you learn to give a foot massage, Pads?" he asked, his voice suffused with pleasure.

Sirius shrugged. "There are a lot of books in the library," he said, trying to sound off-hand.

"Aahh." Remus nodded and settled further back in the armchair, almost as lolling as a Kneazle.

Sirius poured more peppermint oil into his hands and turned his attention to Remus' left foot, massaging it just as thoroughly. He felt the bones of Remus' foot and ankle as he worked, the muscles and tendons, the warmth of his skin. Remus had it hard, he knew; he'd trade places in a heartbeat if he could. But as long as they were together he could at least make Remus' life a little easier. Any little bit of decadence. Remus might not take it from anyone else. Sirius was only glad to give what he could.

When he finished he gave both Remus' feet one last, gentle squeeze. "All done now," he announced.

Remus opened his eyes then, his warm gaze meeting Sirius'. "I--that was bloody wonderful. I--thanks."

Sirius grinned. "Any time, old man."

Remus reached out his hand. "Come here, Pads." His voice was deceptively light.

Sirius smirked outright, lowering Remus' bare feet to the floor, spreading them slightly. He laughed his bark-like laugh when Remus yelped. "Merlin's balls! That floor is COLD!"

Sirius only shrugged, still chuckling, and rose from the ottoman. Leaning over he knelt on the floor between Remus' legs and laid his cheek against Remus' stomach, nuzzling it as Remus' hand dropped to caress his hair, feeling the warmth radiate through Remus' shirt and cardigan.

"Good dog," Remus said absently. Sirius quirked his lips at that, then moved his head lower, and deliberately nosed his groin, deeply sniffing the mingled smells of peppermint, lavender, sweat, and Remus' arousal. He drew back then, gazing up into Remus' hooded eyes with a smirk and an open leer.

"Maybe it's time for another massage," he offered, and was rewarded with a swift thwap on the head, then Remus' arms pulling him up. And as their lips met in a devouring kiss, Sirius made a mental note, if this was what happened when he gave Remus a foot rub, he would definitely have to try this more often.