.
Complete 
.
“Ysh!! Yah-pshsh!!!” he gasped and caught his breath, fumbling for his hankerchief. It’d taken him completely by surprise and he’d sneezed freely, with his mouth open. He started to blow his nose, but again the sudden, ice-pick intense desire caught his breath before he had time to register it. “Ysh!! Yah!!-tsh!! Yah!!tsh!! Huh- yahtshoo!!”
He buried his nose in the hankerchief, embarrassed, and tried to blow again more discretely, despite the fluttering itch it caused, but it wasn’t as if anyone would notice.
The entire room was filled with two dozen variations on his desperate expulsions, from a young woman’s alto “ahhshoo!”s to a tall, burly man’s bass, “Huhyuhpsheww!!”s. A few hacking coughs were mixed in, and wheezes and snorts and blowing noses and liquid sniffles provided accompaniment.
Draco would be dying of orgasmic exhaustion. The dirty, amused little thought made him give a soft snort of laughter. Of course, with his nose, that brought an immediate, urgent, “Yah-tshoo! Yah-chuh!”
There was an epedemic in the wizarding community throughout Britain and the continent. He’d caught a portkey into Diagon Alley to pick up a school present for Hermione’s oldest – who was heading to Hogwart’s at the end of the summer, and how did that happen? It seemed like only days ago they’d had to put spells on the food bowls to keep Kirsten from fighting the dogs for a taste.
Narcissa had Draco off in Brazil for a couple of weeks, and it’d seemed a good time to catch up on their personal and business errands. It’d seemed less so the fifth time someone sneezed on him as he walked along the storefronts, and when he was glancing through the day’s Prophet when he stopped for a quick bite and found multiple articles on the ‘flash epedemic’ : “Incubation period of four to six hours.” “First case discovered two days ago, thousands now infected.” “Health officials have ignored warnings about the procedural overuse of Pepper-Up, resistant virus now spreading unchecked.”
He’d quickly decided to call it a day and simply floo home. Hermione and Kirsten would understand, and he’d accomplished everything else. He saw owls sweeping into stores as he headed for the Leaky Cauldron, where he could always cadge a bit of floo powder. Then the proprietors were all posting notices.
ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!
Regarding : Pepper-Up Resistant Cold Epedemic
Anti-Contagion Potion Has Been Isolated
Anyone Showing Symptoms : Report Immediately
to the Nearest Healer’s Office.
Supplies Being Distributed Directly
Compliance is Mandatory
ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!
The Ministry of Magic’s seal marked the bottom.
He’d picked up his pace, determined to get away from any breathing soul. Since he’d gotten his nose broken, even a stuffed head was an impossible nuisance, and generally turned him into a mess.
Justin Finch-Fletchley had caught him coming in, and insisted on buying him a pint. He hadn’t needed much persuasion : he liked Justin, and there were few enough of his old school mates he could say that about, and it’d been months since they’d spoken.
He’d been sitting down when it hit him, a monstrous, unheralded, “YAHHHTSHOO!!!” and he’d almost missed the chair. He’d been back on his feet before he even got his hankerchief out, apologizing to Justin and trying not to breathe in anyone’s direction.
So now he was sitting in the crowded office, with a much-abused hankerchief, his head feeling thicker by the minute, and his crooked nose doing its usual job of turning every sniffle or run into a fluttering burn, and making what might’ve been a stuffed nose instead an incessantly itching one. It tickled horribly, and made him want to sneeze.
Only he wouldn’t, not from that. It would just nurture a deep-seated flutter until even his normal reticence for attracting attention was overcome by a fierce desire to sneeze, harshly and repeatedly, to dispell an irritant his mind knew wasn’t actually there. But the sneezes would only come, without warning, just when he thought he’d gotten himself under control.
So his nose tickled and never felt relief, not as long as he had the slightest congestion, and the sneezes that did come hit him like an ambush. He knew perfectly well that he could bring one on at any time, just by sniffling in the right way to work around that catch-point in his crooked nose, but he did know the irritation wasn’t real, and wouldn’t be helped by attempting to get it out, and he wasn’t willing to embarass himself for something so pointless as a moment’s relief.
He’d been sitting there for over an hour.
He’d wondered if he was getting a fever, at one point, when his mind offered the fancy that he could see the germs hanging like a fog in the air. Then, he realized somewhat sickly that there were so many people in such a small space, and so many of them were sneezing freely, that a mist was actually visible. They were all sitting in a contagious soup.
He shivered, vaguely disgusted, wishing he had another hankerchief so he could breath through it, even if it was too late to actually help, and an owl touched down on his chair arm. It regarded him thoughtfully before offering its leg.
It was one of the manor owls, but what would Mrs. H-
Draco’s beautiful script answered that question unfinished as he opened the note.
Mother let me out of the last bit of negotiations, and I get back to find the whole bloody area under plague restrictions. But no you. Where are you?
Yours,
Draco
“Ah, hell,” he breathed under his breath, and got a sharp peck on the hand. He glared at the owl. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t answer, did I?”
It huffed and fluffed its feathers skeptically.
He cadged a bit of parchment and a quille from the young wizard at the check-in desk, who seemed relieved to be asked for something he could provide.
Welcome back, love. I was in Diagon Alley shopping for Kirsten before the quarantine was posted. Afraid I caught the bug, but it’s just a mild cold. They don’t want it spreading, so I’m waiting for an anti-contagion potion, then I’ll be along. Don’t worry.
Yours,
Neville
He tied the message on the suspicious owl, then set a time-delayed disinfecting spell and shooed it away.
About an hour later, one of the larger manor owls was back. It looked irritated. The message was short and emphatic.
Don’t be an idiot. Come home this instant. A medi-wizard’s already brought the potion.
Neville sighed, and wondered why he hadn’t known Draco would do that. He penned another quick response.
It spreads too quickly for that, and anywhere I’ve been will be infected. Leave it out in the Hateful Garden and I’ll get it there.
Stop worrying.
Neville
He honestly thought it’d be a moot point before that made the question and answer round, but the clinic ran out of potion, and more people were arriving all the time. Another shipment arrived, but those who had to get back to vital services were given priority.
He really wasn’t feeling well by the time the third owl arrived.
It’s done. Now come home. Be careful.
Yours,
Draco
“Haaouch !! Huh- Haaoutch!!! Uh.” He blew his nose pointlessly and tried to ignore the sore throat settling in. “Be careful” was right. He wasn’t the best apparator on a good day. Distracted, he forgot himself and pulled a long, snuffled breath through his nose. His eyes widened as he realized what he’d done, then struggled against a desire to close as his whole face drew downward. He tried to hold his breath, and rubbed anxiously at his nose, but the damage was done.
“Huh- huh- wuh-” the quickened flutter teased him, even as an unbearable heat built behind it. He could feel his mouth grimacing, and bowed his head, trying to keep anyone from seeing him. “Huh- huhhuh- Huhhh! tshoo! Snf! Hwuhhtshoo!! Huhuh! Hwuhhthshshs!! Oh.” Trying to stifle it had been a bad idea – it hadn’t worked, and now he’d half blown his nose into the already beyond-useful hankerchief. “Uh… Uh-huh-huh… Hwuhhtshoo!! Huh-hwutchoo! Tch! Tch!Pshoo!! Uh, man.” He’d been stupid, and he’d managed to trigger the last thing he wanted – a full out attempt by his broken nose to dispell everything in it, trying to get rid of an irritant that didn’t exist.
Whether the cartilage had grown back unevenly, or the air passage was compressed, or what, he could set a few sneezes like this off just by breathing just wrong, even on a good day. Something in his nose would tickle itself, and his body would attempt violent removal. Add the trickle of a runny nose, or the struggling breaths of conjestion, and whatever-it-was became an actual, feelable presence, like a tiny, pinprick thorn waving gently around.
“Hwuh… HYATCHOO!! Oh, god.” People were starting to look at him now, even in here. Even among all the sneezing, sniffling people, what sounded like a fierce allergy attack was getting noticed. “Tch! Huhtch! Tch-tch-huhtchoo!! Huh… huh… Hah! HYAHHTCHOOO!! Uhhh….” Something seemed to let go, at least for the moment, and the intensity faded as he went from stuffed to runny in a warm wave of sensation. “Hwuhhpshoo!! Huh- huyupshshs!!”
He really didn’t need to blow his nose, there was no way not to make a mess of it, but his nose seemed determined to keep doing it for him a bit at a time until he did. “Yuh… Yuh-huh- Hyuhhhpshoooo!! Pshuh!! Huh- Yupshooshsh!! Tshoosh!! TSH!! ITTSHSH!! IT!TSHSH!! Hehhhh…. SHSHNNNSHXNNSHSTSHSH- HYAHH-PSHOOOO!!! Huh…huhuh- Hatchoo!!”
Everyone was staring at him now, and he knew his face must be brick red, but that last one had been both dry and, seemingly, the last one needed for the moment. He was a hopeless mess, sitting with his face in his hands, the over-used hankerchief useless, and the obliging wizard from the desk came over with a box of tissues he’d apparently kept hoarded behind the desk. He even brought his wastecan in the other hand, and his body positioned itself to block the view of most of the room as Neville gratefully cleaned himself up. He felt like he’d used half the box, and his nose was getting sore, when he finally felt able to look up and offer a small, embarrassed, but appreciative smile.
The young wizard smiled back and nodded, and said where everyone in the small room could hear him, though he didn’t seem to be speaking for the audience. “You’re the one who saved the Setesh’s Fever victims, back in the War. You and Draco Malfoy, you brought the Adaras ingredients to the potions masters at Saephon’s Ruin.”
Neville blinked at him. He wasn’t used to being recognized – it hadn’t happened often even right after the War. He nodded, hesitantly, and the young man broke into a wide grin that made him look like a teenager. “My sister was in that village. My family always said we wished we knew how to thank you. If there’s ever anything, we’re the Penskes in Little Fallow, up in Yorkshire.”
Neville repeated it carefully, respecting the sentiment, and personally appreciating the distraction from his self-consciousness. The boy bobbed him another nod, seeming unsure how to retreat after his offer, so Neville stood up and smiled at him, and said, “I just found out a friend got me a dose from our local healer, so I’ll be going. You don’t have anti-apparation shields, do you?”
The young wizard shook his head and backed off, and Neville set the disinfectant spell on the owl and dismissed it, then composed himself to apparate.
He made very sure he wasn’t going to sneeze, and focused all the concentration he could on the spell. It was never easy for him, and it would really be a ridiculous way to have an awful accident.
He managed not to splinch himself, but the instant the spell let go of him, he found his breath catching in a violent gasp. “HWAHTSHPSHTSH!! Uh… Huh uh…” He hadn’t gotten his hands anywhere near his face in time, but at least the force had bent him forward to direct the thick spray toward the ground. He hated being such a mess, and there was another sneeze just waiting for him to dare to breath to leap on him with equal force.
He breathed shallowly through his mouth, mentally promising his nose that it could do whatever it wanted, if it would just let him get a nice, soft cloth to do it into first. The urge settled back a fraction , but it was a very uneasy truce. He looked around hurriedly, hoping he could take the potion and get in a hot shower before it was broken.
On one of the benches in Draco’s father’s old herb garden – if things like deadly nightshade and strangulatum could be considered herbs – two small bottles sat. One read “anti-contagion,” and the other “anti-pyretic.” Draco had been thoughtful, of course, and had doubtless demanded whatever the healer could manage that would make him feel better if Pepper-Up wasn’t an option. From what Neville knew – which, granted, was never that much when it came to potions – something to bring down his fever really was the extent of it. The papers hadn’t been wrong in saying the wizarding world leaned heavily on Pepper-Up as a cure all.
Very carefully keeping his attention on not snuffling against the thick run in his nose, he took the anti-fever potion in one gulp, choking slightly with the combination of slightly irritated throat and clogged nose. Then he held the anti-contagion potion up and looked at it a moment.
Anti-Contagion
Strain PUI-1
2 Doses
He took stock of himself for a long moment. His head felt heavy and thick, making it difficult to focus on thinking, but that was just congestion, which would be helped by a hot shower and a way to actually blow his nose. And his throat was faintly sore, but that was, again, from not being able to clear his head and having the gunk run down the back of it, and the harshness of stifled sneezes. His nose was tender, but that was hardly a major complaint. The only symptom of concern was the light fever he’d felt growing, and there was a potion for that. He could already feel it beginning to work, easing the faint dizziness and the hot feeling of his eyes.
There really was no reason not to.
He turned toward the house and asked quietly, “What would you’ve done if I just took the whole thing, without thinking about it?”
“It wouldn’t've done any harm – I made sure.” Draco sounded very faintly hurt, as he stepped away from the stone entry marker where he’d been waiting silently. “And I’d not’ve mentioned it at all, if you hadn’t thought of it.”
Neville nodded, still thinking. “I believe you. But – are you sure about this?”
“Do you feel very badly?” And despite what most who knew him would think, Neville knew the question wasn’t as self-centered as it came across. Draco was worried that Neville had been untruthful in calling it a mild cold, if he was worried about Draco.
“No, no. Mostly this nose of mine.” He saw Draco shiver slightly, and frowned. “You’ve been into the drops, haven’t you?”
Draco turned slightly, not looking at him. “Well, I thought it’d be a bit much to deal with. If – this idea – is, you know you just have to say so.”
“I know.” Neville finally made a decision. “But I really don’t feel up to it, this side of a good shower, and I can’t leave here without infecting the whole house. Do you want to have to disinfect the whole thing? Or send Mrs. H away and forbid visitors for three days, and be sick without her?”
“It was just an idea.” Draco’s eyes tightened a bit, as if he were afraid, even after all their years, that Neville was misunderstanding him, and might be hurt by it. “If you want to take it, and disinfect right here, and head for the shower, I’ll have the bed ready and Mrs. H on her way up with soup.”
Neville was shaking his head. “I said I don’t feel up to it – and I mean the it you had in mind.” He set the potion back down, carefully, and said simply, “I have something else in mind. Come here.”
Draco was still a moment, wide-eyed, and looking about twenty, as he always did on this subject. A false calm over uncertainty and desire. When he started forward, Neville suddenly said, “Wait!’
Draco’s face was open and accepting and covering extreme disappointment. “Just say ‘no,’ if you want to, love. If this is a hard decision, forget it.”
“No, no. I just don’t think my diction is… is up to-” he paused, fighting the urge to sniffle or rub at his nose. The teasing flutter was breaking the armistice. He breathed through his mouth, and gave a quiet hack to get the itch out of his throat. He didn’t dare try to speak, so he held his hand out, with the worthless hankerchief, internally cringing in embarrassment.
Draco got it instantly. “Asseo hankerchiefs. Asseo blanket.”
On Malfoy land, the speed with which the objects responded to his command was amazing. Draco plucked them out of the air, then walked slowly to where Neville stood, absolutely still, barely daring to breathe. He carefully took the soiled hankerchief from Neville’s unprotesting grip and placed a large clean one in it.
Neville nodded his thanks, knowing this was requiring enormous restraint on Draco’s part. But he wouldn’t be able to manage anything if he didn’t collect himself a bit. The soft cotton felt like silk against the heat of his nostrils, and he finally allowed himself to take a deep breath, preparing to blow but knowing he probably wouldn’t manage it. “Uh- hshshngshxxsshaaah-TSHOO!!
Draco turned sharply away from him and began shaking out the blanket, and Neville had just enough presence of mind to appreciate it. Draco knew how embarrassing this was for him. He tried to blow his nose again, but the movement had enticed the fluttery sensation to make unbroken breaths impossible. “Heh…Yahpshoo!! Huh-tshsh!!” It was just easier to let the sneezes happen, and let them help clear his head.
The cloth was wonderfully soft, and thick enough that he could rub at his nostrils and still feel it as soft. “Huh…huh-huh- hyuhpshoo!! Uh-pshshoo!! Ih-heh… huh… Hwuhpshpshshsh!! Uh.” The relief as the thick wetness left his nasal passages was intense. “Hwuhpshpsh-PSHTCH!! Huh-uh… hehhn…ITSHSH!! ITSHSH! ITSH!! ITCH-ITCH-HIH-YITCH!! Uh. Oh…Hup!shoo!! Huhhh.” He breathed heavily for a moment, wiping carefull at his nose and testing the willingness of his over-stimulated sinuses to quiet.
Not just yet… “HWAH-PSHOO!! IHPSH! IHPSH!!… IT!TCH!! Huh… uh… Oh, that feels Yuhpshpshpshss!!! Ah, me. That feels so much better.” He dabbed a few more times at his nostrils, enjoying the softness against their irritation as he got the last of the wetness, for the moment.
Draco touched his shoulder lightly. Neville turned to give him a wry, embarrassed look, but despite the flush rising in Draco’s pale neck, the grey eyes were only concerned. “You really sound as though you feel awful, love. Why don’t you-”
Neville kissed him.
Draco’s hands went out in surprise for an instant, then quickly came in to slide up the firm muscles of Neville’s back. As Neviile had expected, Draco kissed him as if they hadn’t been together in months. When Neville started to ease back, Draco’s mouth tried to follow him for a moment, then broke away with a small gasp. Neville smiled at him lazily.
“That might’ve been good enough, considering how this thing spreads. What do you think, love? Was that enough for you to catch my cold?”
Draco’s pupils bloomed, and he made a low noise in his throat. Neville caught his shoulders and pulled him back in. Another long kiss, and, “Maybe that was enough?”
Draco was beginning to tremble slightly, and he licked his lips but seemd completely beyond response. Neville felt the usual flush at seeing Draco so aroused, but his body really wasn’t up for him to join the feeling at the moment. He guided Draco back and down onto the spread blanket.
Draco let him, laying back and just looking at him, desire evident in every inch of the long, lean body, but he didn’t move to initiate anything. He wouldn’t, knowing Neville was indulging him despite feeling unwell.
Broad, work-roughened hands parted Draco’s robes, slowly, starting at the neck. When the pale body was laid bare in front of him except for underwear, he leaned forward suddenly, resting his weight mostly on his arms on either side of Draco’s chest, and kissed him, hard. Draco’ arms grabbed for him, trying to pull him down into closer contact, but Neville resisted easily. Draco didn’t have the weight to pull him down, although he almost succeded in lifting himself up. He pulled back instead and began kissing along his jawline. Draco made a small, breathy sound, closing his eyes, and Neville took his moment.
He rubbed his nose into Draco’s, a little brush under the bottom, then along the side. They both gasped at the same time. Neville struggled to speak. “Was… was that… ehn… enough? Uhhhn…”
Draco’s eyes were about to come out of his head. He fumbled frantically for one of the hankerchiefs, but Neville intercepted his hand. He’d let Draco do that later. For the moment, he bowed his head into the smooth neck and, “Ysh! Yah!!tsh!! Hyy-tshsh!!! Oh…”
Draco gasped and threw his head back, fingers fisting into the blanket, as Neville murmured, getting into what had been an occasional game for over ten years. “That felt so good. To get that burning out, just for a moment. Do you think it was enough? Or should I…?”
“Ah! Merlin, Neville, please-” The breathy words came with a hand stroking up the side of his face, and Neville considered. Normally, if Draco did this at this point, he would come, and Neville had other plans for that. But the drops Draco took had obviously put a pretty good damper on the effects. He could probably allow it, and still drag it out.
“Snf!Snf!” Short, sharp little sniffs, too shallow to set off the flutter in his nose. They weren’t just for effect – it really was running again, very lightly. “Oh, I – I don’t think I c-can hehhhn sneeze just now, but my nose is tickling so much. There’s a little itch, just around my nostrils, just a little one, I’ve made them so sensitive, rubbing at them. It’s… ihhhn… it’s teasing me so much. Love, do you think you could-”
Draco’s careful fingers touched his nose instantly, and it really was an odd sensation, even after so many years. Draco had learned a dozen ways to make him sneeze with just a touch, from quick little chuffs to massive fits. He took the cue, and only stroked the rim of each nostril wit a shaking finger, little brushes of nail. The effect was instantaneous. Before either could move, “Hiyihhtshoo!! Oh, oh that- that feels so m-much bet- bet- Hyihh-tshoo!! Tishoo!! Tshoo!! Ah…” He’d bowed his head into Draco’s neck again, and Draco’s body arched under him until aching hardness pressed into his stomach.
When he could, he licked his lips and asked, “Do you think that was enough?”
Draco whimpered. It was more than could reasonably be expected of him, but it was still funny. Neville decided to tease him. “Is- ih… is it? Do you th-hehhhn think? I need to kno-ho-hahh- Hwahtschoo!!” He directed it off to the side, and Draco grabbed for his face, turning it back toward him.
His voice was a whisper of gravel. “Not enough.”
He was actually shaking, and Neville was starting to feel a bit light-headed, so he decided to move the game along a bit. Taking one of Draco’s hands, he brushed his cheek with it, then his nose. Draco squirmed. “I’m just so – so irritated. I think if I could just – j-just – snf! snfsnfsnf! Snflwahhtshoo!! Tshoo!!” He held back, and the light spray settled all over Draco’s torso. The man bucked hard, and clenched his fists more tightly.
“If I could just sneeze all this irritation out, I would be better for awhile. I just nee… nee… eeh-eeh-heh-hyehhhshoo. Hyehshooo!!! Uh. I just need to sneeze and sneeze until this feeling lets go.”
Draco’s groan was low pitched and urgent. He closed his eyes and his arm came up to bend over his own face. “Hyetch!!Hyetch!!Hyehhtchoo!! Ahh, Neville, I, sn-”
Neville pinched his nose before he could finish the sniff, and Draco’s eyes popped back open. “No. If you do that even one ti-time, I’ll stop.”
Draco gasped, but didn’t try to sniffle again when Neville let go.
Neville shifted back onto his knees and spread Draco’s thighs with a sure hand. This was arousal sneezing, despite the drops, and Neville was determined to make him come his way, not any other. “Watch me,” he demanded, and Draco’s eyes focused instantly.
Neville drew a long, slow breath through his nose, then another, sharp one. Draco’s whole body seemed to flush – he knew exactly what Neville had just done.
Neville pressed his nose into the soft skin of Draco’s chest, rubbing it into the wispy hair. “Oh, y-your… your hair is tic-tickling my nose… huh- uhhuh… huh-huh-huh- Hwuhhtshoo!! Huwuhhtshoo!! oh, I can f-feel it, it, it’s huh-ehhhn… huhhuhhuh… the little hairs are tickling inside my n-nose -Hyuhhhpshoo!! Uhh. Oh, I’m sorry, these are- are just so… huhhh… so wet. Snf! Snfflle! Snffle-snfl-snf- HWUHHHTSHOO!!! Ah…”
Draco made a sound of pure desperation, his hand on the side of Neville’s face, and Neville turned to kiss it quickly before bowing his head again, lower this time, onto the still-rippled plains of Draco’s stomach. “Do you th-think that w-was Hwaahhtshsh!! Ahhtshshoo!!” Draco bucked as the light spray touched his lower belly, and Neville’s hands slid to the outside of his pants. “Was enough?”
“N…no… Neville, I c-can’t hyehhhn-” He was visibly battling not to sniffle, his nose twitching and nostrils flaring. He yanked his arm over his face again. “Hyetch!Hyetch-hyetch!! Hyehtchoo!! oh, merlin, I-”
“Don’t. Sniffle.” Draco whimpered again, and threw his head back with an agonized breath, but didn’t.
Neville shifted and slipped his pants down and off one leg, so he could settle between the spread legs again, his weight on one arm and one hip as he gathered the cotton cloth in one hand. Draco’s cock was wet-tipped and pulsing. He wanted – but he couldn’t take it in his mouth. Not at the moment. And it wasn’t what he’d planned anyway.
He bowed his head low, as if he would, then looked up at Draco with a look of earnest inquiry under purest mischief. “And th-this? Hehhhn- huhuhhuh… Do you think this would be enough f-for- Hwuhhtsh!!Huwhhtsh!!” He barely let the spray mist over Draco’s thighs, and saw them tighten, and leaned forward into a quick, hard kiss before pulling back and saying softly, “For you to catch my cold? Snfl-Hwuhhtshshshoo!!”
“Ahh!! You- ohh… hyetch!hyetch!hehyehtch!” Draco’s hips lifted, and as he jerked Neville moved quickly, took his suddenly throbbing cock in his hand and covered Draco’s nose with the briefs.
“Blow,” he commanded, and Draco did, looking delerious, blowing as he came, making wild noises underneath, and finally collapsing back with a slow, soft, “hyehh-tch. Uhh…”
He lay there, bonelessly, but his hands scrabbled for Neville’s shoulders, and Neville went into his embrace, letting Draco hold him.
After a long, long moment of recovery, Draco managed to coordinate himself well enough to kiss him, first on the nose, then, tenderly, on the mouth. When he lay back, he whispered, “You’re amazing. Thank you.”
Neville chuckled, and located the hankerchief Draco had been reaching for, wiping his own running nose. “I’m a mess. And as much as I’d like to lay here and enjoy you basking in the glow, I think I’d feel a thousand times more able to appreciate it after a shower.”
Draco was up in an instant. He got the anti-contagion potion, which they split, then cast a disinfectant spell so strong some of the moss on the garden stones shrivelled. When Neville looked a question, Draco shrugged. “Mrs. H would kill me if this got to her. Now, come on.” He tilted his head up to kiss him again, still tenderly, and Neville smiled into his eyes and let himself be led.
The hot water in the shower felt wonderful as it pounded down on the back of his neck. It also felt wonderful to finally not have to care about what a mess he was. His nose had started running heavily with the first breath of the thick steam, and it was nice to be able to just bow his head and let it clear itself out. Draco had hovered solicitously, but once Neville assured him he didn’t need anything he’d curled up on their bed and all but passed out. Neville wasn’t usually one to feel smug, but for once, he did, a little bit.
“Wuhhssssssh!! Wuhhsssssh!! Huh… huhwuhhssssssh!!” He leaned his arms on the shower wall and just let them come, finding the sensation pleasant as his head cleared. By the time he was finished, he could almost breathe through his nose again.
He came out with a bathrobe on and still rubbing a towel over his hair, feeling a little chilled with the sudden absence of the hot water. There was a tray with two bowls of steaming soup beside the bed, and Draco lay in it wearing nothing but a very intent expression. Neville laughed at him.
“You won’t actually bring it on by thinking about it, love.”
Draco gave him a heavy lidded look, then with no change in expression, pronounced clearly, “Eh. Pshewe.”
Neville blinked, and Draco rolled over and grinned. “I can bring that any time I want to, just by thinking of how you looked in your formal robes last month.” The wickedness faded as he saw Neville pull the towel a bit tighter on his neck. “Are you all right?”
“A bit chilled. And I need a hankerchief before I get desperate enough to rub my nose in this towel. It would make it so red and tender.”
Draco’s neck went blood red, even as he stood up and turned back the blankets. “Tease.”
Neville smiled, then sniffled carefully. “Maybe. But n-not kidding. Uhhn… Huhhtch!!! Uh. P-please, love. Huhhnn. I just… just got cleaned up. Uhh- uhuhuh- Huhhhtchoo!!” He sniffled again, even more carefully, and made a small sound in his throat, holding the towel in front of him in both hands. “Oh.. the n-next one’s… one’s going to be wet. I – hyeh-hyeh! Huh. I don’t want to u-use the Hyehhhtshoo!! Ah, yes, th- Hyehhhpshoo!! PSH! Hyehpsh!!”
Draco had moved instantly, and he’d brought a soft hankerchief to Neville’s nose just as the third sneeze let go. Neville snuffled and rubbed his nose into Draco’s palm, and felt Draco shaking. He gave his nose a hard blow, and heard a gasp, and rubbed harder. Then he had to catch Draco’s arm as his knees wobbled on him.
“Easy, love. Do you need some of that anti-fever potion?” He couldn’t, because the minimum was four hours and it’d been less than two, but Draco looked at him with eyes that were already mostly pupil. Neville eased his nose from Draco’s hand and leaned forward slowly, first to press a gentle kiss to numbed lips, then to rub his nose against Draco’s. He caught Draco to him in the next instant, as his whole body flushed, and kept doing it. “Do you need a potion, Draco? Because you’ve caught my cold. It’s in here-” he gave an almost rough nudge, and felt Draco’s erection swell against his hip, even as he gasped.
Neville rubbed the tip of his nose up Draco’s septum, then along the nostrils that were already flaring, Draco’s arousal providing what wishful thinking hadn’t. He rubbed it up and down, hard, and suddenly Draco broke from shocked acceptance to push back into him. “Hyetch!Hyetch!Hyetch!! Ahh, merlin…” Draco sniffed dryly, and shuddered all over. Neville wrapped his arms around him and squeezed his arse, hard. “Hyetch!Hyetch!Hyehhtchoo! Sorry, Neville, stop, I-”
Whether the potion drops were wearing off or Draco was just worked that far up, the arousal induced sneezing had come more quickly, and definitely harder, and Draco had just sneezed directly in his face. Neville had long since lost his squeamishness. “It’s too late to stop. You have my germs – germs that were in my nose, tickling me, forcing me to sneeze and sneeze until I couldn’t breathe – in your nose. Right here.” He rubbed again, and watched the nostrils redden from close range and Draco started squirming against him.
“Hyehhtch!!Hyehhhtch!!Hyehhhtchoo!!!” Neville squeezed his arse again, and pulled him hard against his hip, trapping Draco’s erection between their bodies. Draco’s head went back helplesssly, and Neville settled for rubbing his dripping nose along the column of his neck, watching the chillbumps.
“I… I have to sn-sneeze again.” Neville snuffled against his ear, and Draco groaned. “Are… aren’t you going to h-help me? This cold….. heeehhhhn… this cold is really… really tickling my n-nose heheheh- hyehhhn… I know it must be tickling in yours, too. My cold, in your nose. Hyehh…”
Draco managed to get a hand up between them, and stroked Neville’s nose with the dry hankerchief, very lightly. “Does it tickle here?” he whispered, brushing the reddening nostrils. “or here?” he moved up to the tip. When Neville just breathed heavily, he gave the septum the lightest pinch, and instantly, “Hwehhhtshuh!!! Yehhhtshuh!!” Neville gave them to the air, sneezing all over Draco’s fingers and chest.
Draco started to jerk back, his own eyes growing heavy, but Neville wouldn’t let him have an inch. A flash of gratitude and sheer lust went through Draco’s eyes as Neville bowed his head and rubbed his nose against Draco’s again, whispering, “This tickle is mine, from me, you have my cold in here,” even as Draco jerked with a fierce “HyetchHyetchHyehhtchoo!!”
They were still dry, but Neville sniffled, and Draco closed his eyes with a groan.
Not meaning to, and not expecting it, Neville suddenly coughed, lightly, ducking his head away, and Draco’s eyes lost some of their haziness. Neville was prone to pnuemonia, and Draco tended to get paranoid at the slightest sign of a chest cold.
Gathering himself with visible effort, Draco started to ease back, but Neville tightened his hands on his arse again, and Draco rubbed back into his hip by pure reflex. Neville gave another little sniffle, and said over Draco’s smothered groan, “That was nothing. This is… isn’t that kind of cold. This is jus-just… just a bad case of the sneezes-” He saw Draco getting lost in it again, just from his breathy, rapid, fading voice, before he even got to, “Yehhhtshuh!! Heh… Hyehhtshoo!! uh.”
Draco made one last effort, even as his body flexed in response to the light spray on his chest. “You don’t- Let me-”
Neville kissed him, silencing him with inarguable reassurance.
Draco devoured his mouth, running his hands all over Neville’s back, over his hips and arse, but when he pulled back his eyes still held worry, overriding the lust. “But you’re not-”
“Tired, love, that’s all. I will. We’ll have days…” He bent to trace lips and tongue down the column of the pale throat, then breathed words against it, “The spirit is more than willing, I promise.” He could feel Draco’s knees weakening, as more weight rested into the hands he’d kept on Draco’s arse.
“But- you don’t… d-don’t have to-” The struggle for coherence was touching, Neville decided. “We should… wait… ahh…”
Neville raised his mouth from Draco’s ear and smiled against his cheek. “I don’t huhhhhn… d-don’t think waiting’s Uhn wuh… Wuhhhtshoo!!” He’d sneezed against the side of Draco’s face, across his ear, and he felt the hot throbbing against his hip swell in response. He sniffled carefully, wetly, and Draco shuddered, eyes widening and then growing heavy-lidded as his mouth opened slightly. “I don’t think waiting’s on option, love,” he said quickly, watching Draco’s fine nostrils redden further, then twitch, and feeling an answering tickle at the back of his own nose. “Huhhh…. Huhhhn- huh-huh-huh!”
Draco’s eyes fastened on his face, then he tightened his grip on Neville’s waist and pressed his face into Neville’s chest, just beneath the collar bone.
“Hyehhtch!!”
Neville shifted his leg, bringing his thigh up, hard, behind Draco’s swollen balls, even as he gasped out, “Huh-uh… huhhh-huh-!!”
The normal rapid-fire triplet had been disrupted by the new pressure below, and Draco squirmed and gave a quick, desperate groan before, “Hyehhhhtchtch!! Ah, merlin, Nev- hyehh-”
And just as the third one began, Neville rubbed his nose ticklishly against Draco’s neck and “Hwahhpshpshuh!!!”
“-Tchtchchoo!! Ah! Ah, Neville! Hyehtchoo-hyehhtchoo-hyehtchoo-HYEHHHTCHOOO!!! Neville!” His name came as a sharp, startled shout, then, after a bit, as an unintelligible, babbling murmur that read as compliment, and as gratitude. At least it read that way where Neville was laying, head against Dracos’ sharp hip where they’d collapsed onto the bed. Eventually, even that faded into the lightest of snores.
Even with the unpleasantness of the cold settling into him, Neville sleepily decided that having cause to feel this smug was probably worth it all.
~ Let me know what you think?
