Fic: Punishment

[alisanne]

Title: Punishment
Author alisanne
Pairing: Neville/Draco
Written for mnemosyne1 as part of 24insanehours
Word count: Not sure 650
Prompt: Disability or Hurt/Comfort (with emphasis on comfort)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Unbetad, holler if you see anything that needs to be fixed. :)



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Punishment

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"Good morning!"

Draco sighed and again cursed fate. Why had he been stuck with such a cheerful caregiver, anyway? Fucking Longbottom and his fucking mornings. He should go fuck himself. "And what, exactly, is good about it?" he snarled.

Neville's lips twitched. "You're in a good mood this morning," he said, placing a goblet of steaming liquid next to Draco.

"Are you attempting to be funny?" Draco snapped.

Smiling, Neville settled into the chair beside Draco's bed. "No," he said. "I'm serious. Usually you call me all sorts of names and throw things at me when wake you up."

Draco flushed and looked away. "Yes, well, none of that has scared you off yet, has it?" he muttered. "I suppose I've resigned myself to your company."

Neville nodded. "That's for the best," he said. "Gryffindors are nothing if not determined."

"Stubborn more like," Draco growled, but it was clearly half-hearted. Reaching for the goblet, he swallowed the potion, grimacing as he did so. "I was just thinking that you should go fuck yourself, actually," Draco continued defiantly.

"Mm, but where's the fun in that? And you should talk about being stubborn," Neville said, taking the goblet from Draco once he was done. "You're the one who insisted on joining the Auror elite corps to track down rogue Death Eaters knowing they would be after you in particular."

Draco shrugged. "Someone had to do it," he said. "Plus, why should you Gryffindors get all the glory?"

Eying Draco's scarred leg, Neville sighed. "Yeah, some glory it's given you. Perhaps next time you should avoid known werewolves?"

"Says the man who killed Nagini."

"I was seventeen," Neville retorted. "Young and moronic. You don't have youth as an excuse."

"So twenty-six is too old, is it?"

"For stupid stunts like taking on Greyback single-handedly? Yes!" Neville looked fierce, and Draco bit back a smile. When Neville got like this he was, well, pretty sexy.

"At least he's dead now," Draco said, voice laced with satisfaction. When Neville opened his mouth to continue to argue, Draco decided to take the bull by the horns. "Although I concede that I may deserve some punishment," he purred. "And since I am such an advanced age, perhaps it's best if you do the work, if any work is involved."

"You are feeling better," Neville said, a grudging smile tugging at his lips. Standing up, he moved the sheet that had been covering Draco, eyes sweeping over Draco's pajama-clad crotch and the bulge that was continuing to grow even as he stared. "Mm, and so am I, I think," he whispered before climbing up onto the bed and straddling Draco. Banishing their clothes, Neville quickly gathered Draco's prick in his hand and began to stroke them together.

"I think we can call this physical therapy, can't we?" Draco gasped, arching upwards as Neville moved rhythmically above him.

Neville chuckled and, leaning over, bit a kiss into Draco's neck before soothing it with his tongue a moment later. "As your healer," he murmured, "I would say yes. Now shush and take your punishment."

"Do you think the healers at St. Mungo's knew there would be sex involved when they let you bring me to your place early to recover?" Draco asked minutes later as they cuddled.

Neville stroked Draco's hurt leg. "Maybe," he whispered. "They knew there would be a fair amount of exercise involved, I'm sure."

Draco chuckled. "And good exercise it has been, too," he murmured, brushing damp hair back from Neville's face. "And look at the bright side."

"Which is?"

"At least you haven't actually been forced to fuck yourself."

Neville laughed. "Won't stop you from wishing that on me every morning though, will it?"

"No," Draco said, yawning as their exertions finally caught up with him. "Probably not."

~