Disclaimer: Harry & Draco are not mine! They belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: Homosexuality, Constipation, swearing (represented by two dash lines)
Draco Malfoy was perfection itself. His husband, Harry Potter, knew this very well. He also knew that it wasn't completely true.
Draco had one flaw that had come to light soon after they were married. He had chronic constipation. Luckily for him, Harry had become a healer after the war.
They had fallen into a routine. Whenever Draco started to feel sick, he would sleep on a cot on the floor of their bedroom while Harry had the bed. The next morning, Harry would ask how long it had been since Draco had gone. If the number was a multiple of seven, Harry knew to divide by seven and then he had the number of days it had been. If it was a single number, he knew to think in weeks.
Lately Draco had been quiet, had eaten little, and had taken the cot from the closet where they kept it until he needed it.
Harry and and Draco were washing the breakfast dishes one morning when Harry finally asked.
"How long, Draco?"
Draco went quiet and looked away from his beautiful husband, something he rarely did.
"Draco, Love, I'm not punishing you. I want to help."
"Just because you're the Boy-Who-Lived and a healer doesn't mean I need your help. I'm a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Merlin."
Oh yeah, when Draco was feeling sick, he got snarky, more so than usual anyway.
"I'm not one of your patients."
"Come on, Love, you'll feel much better after, I promise."
"Fine! Two."
"See, not so hard, was it? And you're not a Malfoy anymore, remember? You took my name."
"Why I did is beyond me."
"C'mon, Sweetie. You know why. I know you're in pain, it's okay. Shh..." Harry took Draco in his arms and shushed him as he began to cry, "Let's go sit on the toilet for awhile, hm? See if we can get you some relief," Draco continued to hide his face in his hands as Harry picked him up bridal style and carried him into the bathroom.
Harry gently placed his husband in a bathtub of warm water, setting it up so that he could have his herbal bath. Harry, as a Healer, hated when other Healers were so rude and rough with their patients, and so avoided enemas and the like when he could.
Once he was certain Draco was comfortable, he sat down on the red violet rug by the tub, stroking Draco's bangs from his gray eyes.
Draco, for his part, had begun to doze under the heat of the warm water and his lover's ministrations.
After about thirty minutes of soaking, Draco felt Harry kiss his hand to wake him up.
"Hm? Wh-?"
"Shh, Dray, everything's fine. It's time to try the toilet."
"Was havin' a good dream..." Draco moaned in protest.
"I know, Love, I know. Only for a little bit, I promise," Harry cradled him as he picked him up out of the water.
"-, it's cold..."
"It'll get warm, Love, just relax."
"Don' wan' 'o..." Draco rubbed his eyes like a child, drowsy from his interrupted nap.
"I know, Dray, but it has to come out. You'll feel much better, promise. Feet up, butt down."
"No need to get bossy..." Draco grumbled, reaching for his husband's shoulders to brace himself on as he adopted the routine squatting position.
"Hone-" seeing he was not getting through to his sleepy, slightly bloated lover, Harry decided to try another tactic, "As soon as you go, we'll have some "us" time okay?"
"Too tired..." Draco whined.
"Or we can have a long nap. That works too."
"I'm tired..." Draco sobbed.
"I know, Love, I know. Just relax. Shh... Shh..." Draco fell onto Harry, his head falling to his shoulder, and Harry silently rejoiced when he felt Draco's pelvic floor muscles and hip muscles begin to contract.
"Hurts! Harry, it hurts!" Draco threw himself against the toilet seat lid, shifting his hips forward as he began to bear down. Within minutes, it was over.
As Draco panted, recovering, Harry smiled gently, proud of the man he called his husband.
"S' tired..."
"Bath and then sleep, sound good?"
Draco nodded, and then rested against his husband as Harry cleaned him off and then set him in a fresh, warm bath.
