A/N: written for round two of the LLPW to the following prompts; Inhaler, Fan, Jigsaw and Fufu
Title: Bingo
"Why did you choose this place? I can't even read the damn menu," whined Draco sullenly.
Draco hated these blind dates. Draco strongly suspected it was Pansy who was shoving all these idiots his way. Bingo was the best so far, which was why Draco allowed himself to be led to 'Congo' on a second date, the newest restaurant off of Digaon Alley.
"Do you want me to order for you?" offered Bingo. Draco suspected that Bingo's name wasn't really Bingo on account of the thick African accent that accompanied his dark skin. Draco thought they would be very aesthetically pleasing once they finally tumbled into the sheets together in a contrast of pale white, brown and pink bits.
"Yes, otherwise I might starve."
Bingo gave the order and they drank wine, waiting for the food. Bingo confirmed his real name was something totally unpronounceable, but Draco gave it a try and pronounced a sneeze instead. Bingo's laughter drew attention from the tables around them, "See, this is why I give myself an English name so that pretty English men can scream something when I –"
"Please, not in front of the napkins."
When the food arrived, Draco started attacking random servings under Bingo's recommendations.
"What's this?" asked Draco, pointing to what looked like porridge.
"Fufu," said Bingo. "Very popular at home. Try some." Draco thought it looked like cum, but took a spoonful.
He promptly spat it out.
"Eugh!" Wiping his mouth delicately with his napkin, Draco asked, "It tastes like a hippogriff's ring piece."
"It's not that bad. I ordered it because I wanted you to try something from my homeland." Bingo grinned and leaned across the table, pulling the napkin away from Draco's face to whisper hotly across his lips, "would you like to taste my mother tongue…"
Draco usually wasn't overcome by such cheesy chat up lines, but he felt himself swooning. Burning up in fact, tight bands constricting around his chest as he struggled to breathe, his temples throbbing. As everything began to go black in his vision, Draco thought, damn, he's smooth.
**
There were anvils on his eyelids. Groggily, Draco managed to see St Mungo's ceiling before shutting his eyes again and moaning out, "what happened?"
"You had an asthma attack," said a horribly familiar voice.
Draco didn't bother opening his eyes again to confirm who would be standing with his chart. "Can I ask for another healer?"
"Sorry, my colleagues are busy." Two warm fingers were pressing into his wrist. Draco peeked through his eyelashes at Potter's bent head. Fate was a cruel mistress. Potter was still as handsome as when they had parted and Draco felt the words 'do you miss me at night too?' press against the back of his teeth.
"I'm going to keep you in for observation," said Harry in that voice he used when Draco's bum got too raw from spanking.
"What caused it?" asked Draco, pulling his wrist away.
"You ate something you were allergic to, I think. We pumped your stomach and there was a lot of white stuff inside."
Damn Fufu! "That causes asthma?"
"Yes. Stress can too," explained Potter, looking hot in his white tunic. He pulled something blue out of his pocket and presented it to Draco. "This is an inhaler. Do you know how to use it?"
Draco shook his head and as Potter impassively explained the contraption, Draco suddenly realised that it was a Muggle solution. "Isn't there a spell to fix me?"
"We dealt with your allergy, but the asthma is untreatable. Use the inhaler and you can stop it from becoming frequent."
"Right," snapped Draco shortly, gripping the horrid thing tightly.
Potter coughed and shifted his weight, eyes firmly on the chart. "Err, Mister Mal…Draco…would you…a-are you single right now?"
Draco thought about their last words to one another; 'racist', 'dye-job' and 'closet case!' He thought about the months he had spent avoiding the world before Pansy set up a turnstile in his bedroom for blind dates.
Opening his mouth, unsure of what reply he would give – the door opened and Bingo's face popped inside. Potter stepped back, and Draco realised how close he'd been standing before.
"Draco, I'm sorry! Are you okay?! God, what a horrible date, sorry!"
"He's fine," assured Potter, voice cold. "I'll come back later to check on you, Mister Malfoy."
Potter's departure was cold, but difficult to think about when Bingo was fluttering about, apologising profusely as he set a fan, jigsaw and bunch of grapes on his bedside table.
"What are these for?" asked Draco, trying to stop the man from rupturing a vessel.
"I know how stuffy these wards get. I thought the jigsaw would entertain you and the grapes because everyone brings grapes – are you allergic to grapes too?"
Draco drowned him out and thought about the top of Harry's scruffy head.
**
Bingo had been right. After visiting hours, Draco had relented and began the jigsaw. To his delight, it was a jigsaw of questionable origins, and he spent many hours looking for the missing piece of one of the character's buttocks. A nurse had come in to check his pulse instead of Potter, and when she had seen the puzzle, she tried to confiscate the pieces; "Honestly, there is a children's ward next door!"
He'd told the daft cow that most children didn't have x-ray retinas and he would bite if she took away the first present he'd got from his new boyfriend. At 'boyfriend', she dropped his wrist like she had been stung and didn't write anything on his clipboard as she fled.
He almost told her that her boss was a dirty pillow biter too.
Lights had been turned off in the ward early but Draco continued to do the jigsaw by touch for another hour before he decided to sleep.
**
Draco woke up as someone began taking his pulse. It was dark but Draco knew who it was. "What's the verdict, doc? Am I gonna die?"
The fingers disappeared for a moment and then a firm body was thrown over his. He's been expecting a conflict, they'd always expressed themselves through violence. They scrambled around for the sake of pride, but eventually Harry was pressing him into the mattress. "I should refuse you treatment," he hissed before pressing blunt teeth and his stumble along Draco's jaw.
Something familiar and hard pressed through the thin hospital gown as he spread his legs to allow Harry's weight to fall into the V of his thighs. Fingers were digging into his biceps and Draco fancied his blood would well up under Harry's nails, a reminder when he tried to scrub away the evidence.
Grabbing his broad shoulders and hoping to fuse Potter to him forever, Draco whispered, "Naked…please…"
Words were whispered into the curve of his neck and Draco felt blessed skin contact all over as another spell tingled at his hidden hole, and then Harry pushed into him with little foreplay. Clearly certain knowledge of prostate exam spells were being abused. Digging his heels into the small of Harry's back, hoping to leave red pressure prints of his feet, Draco plastered himself up to the body that was decidedly not Bingo's and he felt cheap.
Their chests sliding together with slick perspiration and nails dug into his biceps, the erratic slapping of their flesh meeting nearly drowned out the words that were panted into his gasping mouth, "Come back to me, Draco."
**
Lurching up in bed, Draco gasped and choked. Fumbling for the bedside table, he grabbed the fan and opened it, flapping it across his face, hoping to push the wafts of air into his mouth and nose. He wasn't sure if the blackness was really because it was night time or because he was going to black out again. Frantically and urgently flapping the fan, Draco tried to scream for help.
White spots were appearing in his vision as Harry sat up beside him and shout "Accio inhaler!"
A warm hand touched his cheek before something pushed into his mouth and his tongue burned as he swallowed down the foreign air.
Potter held him close and whispered sweet lies about missing him.
**
Bingo had come to pick him up. Draco had packed the fan and the uneaten grapes, along with his new Choke-You-Then-Save-Save You puffer, but left the completed jigsaw as a present to the homophobic nurse.
"Make sure you use the inhaler whenever you feel tight in the chest," instructed Potter, being professional and not mentioning how Draco cried like a baby. Draco wanted him to look up from the damn chart, show with his eyes that he didn't think Draco was pathetic.
"Ready?" asked Bingo, making to the exit, "Do you think you want to try some else from my country? We could go to your place and –"
"Sorry, I'm allergic. Potter, I'll see you Friday for that date."
Potter looked up from the chart and his eyes were the same green as when Draco has last seen him smile like that. 'Bingo!' thought Draco.
**
Pansy sipped her coffee slowly, her face turned towards the sun with her eyes closed. It had been a wonderful morning and she had fancied a nice day of shopping. Bags of new dresses and shoes, along with a cage containing a new owl named Victory, were gathered under the table by her ankles as she basked in Diagon Alley. It wasn't until Victory began flapping loudly against its bars that Pansy opened her eyes and saw someone had sat down opposite her. She raised an eyebrow at the intruder. The intruder motioned over his left shoulder. Pansy allowed her gaze to scan the main street. A dark head dipped towards Draco's bright smile made both her eyebrows jump up into her hairline.
Turning her eyes back to the other occupant of the table, she dropped a small clinking sack between them. "Finally, a competent accomplice. Well done, Bingo."
The End