Hope you are feeling up to snuff soon Ru... I couldn't find any good fluff recs so here you go - the best I can do at 7am! :)
Harry checked the temperature of the soup by pressing the back of the spoon to his hand. Warm enough. From the living room the sound of constant nose blowing, which Harry swore resembled a flight of geese passing through, and a deep hacking cough, let Harry know that Draco was awake. Sighing and shaking his head he turned the knob on the back of the cooker to off and ladled up a bowl of the chicken and noodle mixture.
Draco was buried on the couch, yellow and grey afghan pulled tightly around his head so that only his cherry red nose and watery eyes could be seen. His face had a grey, sweaty look which Harry thought was from his insistence of laying almost directly on top of the vaporizer, however he was sure that if he asked Draco would insist it was from a fever. So he didn’t ask.
Walking over to the couch he placed the tray on the coffee table, pushing napkins and cough drop wrappers out of the way. He picked Draco’s ankles up in one hand and sat down, pulling the other boys feet into his lap and rubbing the leg gently. Draco blinked blearily up at him.
“I brought your lunch.”
Draco coughed and sniffled, “Don’t want any.”
“Draco you have to eat.”
Draco flipped around with great difficulty, getting tangled in the mess of blankets, but finally placing his head on Harry’s lap. Harry ran his hand through the sweat soaked, pale hair, pushing it off Draco’s forehead and sighing.
“I’m dying, Harry.”
“You’re not dying, love.”
“Am.”
“Eat.”
“Dying people don’t need food, Harry.”
“Draco.” Harry tried to make his voice stern as he warred with the laughter that was creeping into his voice. His boyfriend really could be a prat sometimes.
Draco shook his head, burying beneath the blankets. Harry sighed and clicked on the TV, settling his arm over what he thought were Draco’s shoulders. Eventually Draco’s head popped out of the covers.
“I want to watch Soaps.”
“Draco, we are not watching Soaps.”
Draco blinked up at him with watery eyes. “But Harrrrrrrrry, I’m dying.”
He settled back down on Harry’s lap, wiggling his bottom into the cushions. “So we get to watch what I want until I die.”
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Couldn't find fluff rec, hope this helps
Date: 2004-11-07 04:16 am (UTC)From:I couldn't find any good fluff recs so here you go - the best I can do at 7am! :)
Harry checked the temperature of the soup by pressing the back of the spoon to his hand. Warm enough. From the living room the sound of constant nose blowing, which Harry swore resembled a flight of geese passing through, and a deep hacking cough, let Harry know that Draco was awake. Sighing and shaking his head he turned the knob on the back of the cooker to off and ladled up a bowl of the chicken and noodle mixture.
Draco was buried on the couch, yellow and grey afghan pulled tightly around his head so that only his cherry red nose and watery eyes could be seen. His face had a grey, sweaty look which Harry thought was from his insistence of laying almost directly on top of the vaporizer, however he was sure that if he asked Draco would insist it was from a fever. So he didn’t ask.
Walking over to the couch he placed the tray on the coffee table, pushing napkins and cough drop wrappers out of the way. He picked Draco’s ankles up in one hand and sat down, pulling the other boys feet into his lap and rubbing the leg gently. Draco blinked blearily up at him.
“I brought your lunch.”
Draco coughed and sniffled, “Don’t want any.”
“Draco you have to eat.”
Draco flipped around with great difficulty, getting tangled in the mess of blankets, but finally placing his head on Harry’s lap. Harry ran his hand through the sweat soaked, pale hair, pushing it off Draco’s forehead and sighing.
“I’m dying, Harry.”
“You’re not dying, love.”
“Am.”
“Eat.”
“Dying people don’t need food, Harry.”
“Draco.” Harry tried to make his voice stern as he warred with the laughter that was creeping into his voice. His boyfriend really could be a prat sometimes.
Draco shook his head, burying beneath the blankets. Harry sighed and clicked on the TV, settling his arm over what he thought were Draco’s shoulders. Eventually Draco’s head popped out of the covers.
“I want to watch Soaps.”
“Draco, we are not watching Soaps.”
Draco blinked up at him with watery eyes. “But Harrrrrrrrry, I’m dying.”
He settled back down on Harry’s lap, wiggling his bottom into the cushions. “So we get to watch what I want until I die.”