Title: Egg and Cress
Rating: R
Beta: simeysgirl
A/N: I recently realised I had become slightly enamoured with the idea of a flatulent Draco. I therefore had to write fic about it.
Draco felt, rather than heard, the rumble through his stomach. In an instant the feeling moved swiftly south and placed itself in Draco's arse. His eyes widened as he knew this one wouldn't wait; it was coming now. With a quick Muffliato aimed at his posterior, Draco discreetly leaned to his right and let it go.
Unfortunately there was no such spell as Waftato, so Draco could do nothing about the smell. He wrinkled his nose and regretted having that egg and cress sandwich for lunch.
Giving up on his paper work, Draco leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. This wasn't right. A bowl of muesli, a chocolate frog and one egg and cress sandwich should not be making Draco fart this much. Except apparently it was.
Ever since lunch Draco's stomach had been growling and lurching, and generally protesting, only to be succeeded by some of the loudest and most bizarre sounding farts Draco had ever heard.
Leaving his desk to fart in the peace of the bathroom had worked a few times—though his flatulence echoing around the tiled walls would haunt Draco's dreams that night—he couldn't keep it up without his colleagues suspecting his was ill. Maybe he was ill. Who knew what the Ministry really put in their egg and cress sandwiches to keep the costs down.
Muffliato had proven useful for masking the sound the last couple of times, but the smell would continue to linger. And really, that was making Draco ill. Maybe he should go home sick.
Draco sighed. He had this report to finish by 5:00 pm or his boss would no doubt give him a speech about time management and prioritising and other boring shit. Well, Draco could always fart in his face.
It must have been that egg and cress sandwich; Draco had had no bowel problems before lunch. He had planned to have curry for tea, but swiftly changed his mind. Maybe he'd have beans on toast instead. Fuck, no, that wouldn't be any good. Possibly a nice fruit salad... hang on... Damn it, was there anything that wouldn't make Draco fart?
Pulled from his thoughts of dinner when Potter walked by, Draco couldn't help but notice how Potter sniffed the air around Draco's cubicle a couple of times before pulling a face and increasing his speed. Draco let his head fall to his desk, knowing his face was now a lovely shade somewhere between puke-green and mortified-red.
If only the windows down here were real. Draco would kill for a strong breeze right about now.
Suddenly his stomach gave another lurch, and Draco all but leapt to his feet. He hurried to the bathroom as inconspicuously as he could, not caring an iota if his workmates thought he was ill. Rather that than knowing he was rushing off to the toilet so often to blow the foulest smelling wind out of his arse.
As soon as the door to the bathroom banged shut behind him, Draco leaned back against it with closed eyes, released his anal muscles and sighed in relief. Of course that sigh was never heard; the low-pitched wail coming from his arse could have drowned out a tuba.
When the fart finally ended the silence that followed was, if possible, even more deafening.
Then the silence was broken by the soft click of a lock and the slight creak of a door. Draco dared not open his eyes; someone had been in one of the toilet stalls.
The witness to Draco's Earth-shattering fart didn't speak for several seconds, and Draco had almost convinced himself that the fart fumes had made him imagine the noise. Then Draco's worst fears were confirmed.
"I always knew you talked out of your arse," Potter said. Draco could hear the grin on his face.
Embarrassed beyond belief, Draco turned on the spot until his forehead was against the door and he was no longer facing Potter.
"Hey, don't point that thing at me!" Potter cried, followed by outright laughter.
Draco groaned. Of all the people in all the bathrooms, Potter had to have been pissing in the one Draco had hidden in to fart.
"Was it your farts I smelled on my way here?" Potter asked once he had stopped laughing.
Instead of answering, Draco pulled his head back from the door and let it fall back with a thud.
"I'll take that as a yes." Potter's voice was getting louder; he was moving closer. "What did you have for lunch!" Potter almost sounded amazed.
Draco gave an indignant squeak and attempted to make a break for it. Unfortunately he'd left it too long and Potter had got close enough to grab Draco's arm and yank him back. The motion somehow managed to dislodge another fart from Draco, who was expecting the ground to open up and swallow him whole at any minute now. Please?
"That stinks," Potter commented.
"I know." Draco spoke for the first time since entering the bathroom. It was quiet, barely a whisper, but without his arse making a racket, Potter heard him just fine.
"Why don't you cast an Air Freshening Charm?" Potter asked in all seriousness.
Draco's head snapped up. "A what!" He sounded desperate and he knew it, but fuck it, he was desperate.
"An Air Freshening Charm," Potter repeated. "Hermione casts them all the time after me and Ron have had Enchiladas." The grin that appeared on Potter's face was no long mocking; it was understanding.
"You fart?" Draco asked before he could stop himself.
"Everybody farts, Malfoy." Potter chuckled lightly. "In fact, hang on a second." Potter's face screwed up in concentration and Draco found himself slightly alarmed.
Suddenly a high-pitched noise filled the quiet bathroom, quickly followed by a loud wet pop.
"Fucking hell, Potter, did you just follow through! ?"
"No!" Potter yelled, echoing eerily around the room. Despite the denial, Draco noticed Potter bite his lip and shift his hips slightly. He seemed satisfied, however, when he looked at Draco and said again, more reasonably, "No."
A smile started to appear on Draco's face, but before it was fully formed he caught a whiff of Potter's disgusting-sounding fart with his nose and the smile promptly dropped.
"You mentioned something about an Air Freshening Charm?" Draco prodded.
"Oh, yeah." Potter pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Novo Aeris" He waved his wand and breathed deep. "Good as new."
Draco sniffed the air experimentally; he'd got used to breathing through his mouth since lunch time. He did not smell egg or rotting vegetables or anything that made him want to gag. The air was clean and fresh and... and now he could sit at his desk, armed with Muffliato and Novo Aeris, and fart for England!
Almost giddy with joy, Draco gasped a, "Thank you," before leaning in and pressing his lips against Potter's. Draco didn't wait to see Potter's reaction, he simply turned to the door and had to hold himself back from skipping through it.
A few Muffliatos and a whole host of Novo Aerises later and Draco was farting happily at his desk with a smile on his face. He looked up when he heard Potter's voice.
"That's the smile of a free-farting man." Potter had his arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to Draco's cubicle.
Feeling uncharacteristically brave, Draco stole a glance around before widening the Muffliato on his arse. Draco placed his elbow on the desk, head in hand, leaned towards Potter and nosily released the gas trapped in his anus.
Potter laughed and they smiled at each other.
"Want to go out with me for a curry tonight?" Potter asked.
Draco didn't hesitate. "I'd love to."
When Potter left and Draco got back to work, he made a mental note to send a thank you note to the lady who made the egg and cress sandwiches in the Ministry canteen.
- End -