Jump to content
Sneeze Fetish Forum

[FIC] "Divulging Information" - M


Recommended Posts

I...have no excuse. I was OCing with Kisa last night (some of the results of which are posted in the art section) and at one point drew Maxwell, from Hellsing, with his hair down. She squealed, I squealed. There was squealing. I decided he needed to be tortured with the written word as well.

He's not very flattering in the anime (except for the pure, unbridled Italian SEX of his voice), so here's some fanart from Solid & Etc. for reference.

It's fairly short. It was meant to be shorter, but I love playing with Integra way too much.


“Heksht—kshht!” The priest twitched with what seemed to be the fourth (and fifth) sneezes in as many minutes, expression wincing once with the effort before he was straightening up again, sniffling warily and flexing his fingertips where they’d been misted in the crossfire.

The woman sitting opposite steepled her own hands, and seemed unsure whether to be disdainful or amused with his plight. For now, she settled on a neatly delivered “God bless you” and a raised eyebrow. The priest glared blearily at her, so she smiled thinly and continued. “If you’re not feeling well, we can continue this meeting another time,” she offered, with more empathy than usual. But then, she had no intention of doing any such thing. She knew it and he knew it, and so the priest only crinkled his nose into a split-second twitch and made a dismissive gesture.

“I am fine. It is simply…”

“A cold? An allergy?” She paused, bringing a hand to her jaw, and smirked. “Too much dust?”

If there was as much venom in his returning glare as there was in his tone, Integra was certain she would have been a dead woman by now. Or turned to stone, or some silly thing like that. The sudden thought of a medusa-fied Maxwell with snakes in his hair necessitated a hasty move of her hand to contain the threat of laughter.

Integra was an unquestionably stoic woman, iron-willed and iron-fisted, with no tolerance for nonsense, but something about Iscariot’s twitchy leader never failed to irritate and amuse her to no end. The man was infuriating, and more than deserved the occasional, embarrassing case of the sniffles. However, it did interfere slightly with the business they’d been attempting to conduct.

Most of their meetings were thankfully performed through telephone and letter alone, minimizing the need for contact between the two faction heads as much as possible. Occasionally, however, there were matters of sufficient importance to necessitate face-to-face meetings. Or in this case, Integra thought dryly to herself, heated competitions over territory. It was the general rule that her Hellsing organization defended England and many neighboring, God-fearing protestant countries from the threat of the supernatural and the undead, whereas Iscariot was meant to stick by their Catholic roots. The amount of time they spent butting heads over this and other issues, however, was growing vexing.

But then, she supposed she couldn’t expect to amend such a long-standing historical breach easily. Politics and negotiations and getting in her little digs where she could would have to suffice for now.

“If you don’t mind, then, I prefer to spend as little time in your fair city as possible, lovely as it is,” Integra prompted, motioning to their surroundings. Often it was he who came to her, but this meeting had found her in the rare position of leaving her own country, and currently entertaining Maxwell’s ridiculous whims upon his own territory, within his own office, no less. Usually they met on more neutral ground, but Integra was too tired to bicker with him over that, as well.

Besides, if he had lured her out here to the Vatican, she had a fair idea that he had far more information to share than simple disputes over territory. Getting the silly man to give up the real “goods”, so to speak, was something of a challenge, however. Integra was rarely in the mind to play bureaucratic kiss-up games, and her patience at the moment was only tempered by his little miseries.

“Patience, patience, Sir Hellsing,” Maxwell replied, predictably, regaining his composure a little as his nose ceased to twitch. “I’m certain that you have many other so-very-important duties to be attending, as do I, but I’m afraid this is a matter of some importance.”

Integra exhaled slowly and thoughtfully through her nose, watching him continue to sniffle lightly, discreetly every few seconds, as though the act was almost a subconscious one. “I hardly consider bickering over agent placement to be any more important than—“

“Tut, tut,” Maxwell interrupted, narrowing his eyes at her. “You think I called you out here for that?” He paused, mouth pulling into a grim line, and corrected himself. “For only that?”

Ah-ha, Integra commended herself mentally, though outwardly she fixed him only with a dry look. One which faltered slightly as, before she had chance to issue some biting reply, Maxwell’s own expression began to waver, his eyes darting somewhere off to the side.


“A moment,” he requested shakily, a hand moving to his vest pocket, potentially in search of a handkerchief, but not quite making it before he was flinching again with more of those desperate, fittish sneezes.

Hehpsht! … H’kshht-!” She could hear his inhales high and trembling against the back of his throat, seconds before he doubled forward against the back of a hastily raised hand. “H’gkst--Kihshht! Khshht!!

She wasn’t entirely sure whether he was holding them in on purpose, or whether he always sneezed in such a manner, but the effect was amusing nevertheless. Integra looked on with great interest as, unexpectedly, the priest pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose and stifled the last two or three into silence, heralded only by the brief, twitching cringe of his expression and the tightening of his shoulders.

“Bless you,” she offered again, cool and unconcerned as Maxwell recovered himself again, sniffling far more wetly than a few moments ago, and brushing a knuckle briefly against his eyes.

Grazie…” He muttered, surprising her out of an immediate teasing comment.

Instead, Integra frowned to herself and briefly studied the man sitting across from her, separated only by a large and painstakingly-organized desk as he searched himself down again for a handkerchief. Were she the least bit interested in him, Integra mused to herself, Enrico might have been considered handsome enough. His features were delicate and aristocratic by nature and despite his Italian descent, he was lean and tall and terribly, terribly pale. Usually it made him look more like a fragile doll or a leering, silver serpent than anything, especially with his youthful expression and copious amounts of sterling hair gathered back into a tight ponytail. But now, his skin looked more sickly than anything, color waning with the pallor of illness save for at the pinkened edges of his nostrils, fluttering briefly each time he sniffed. It was a far cry from her own sun-warmed skin and rude health, hearty British femme that she was.

Integra shook off her musings, and squared her shoulders. “In any case, why did you call me here, if not for the apparent reason?” Something harsher lingered on her tongue, but a combination of curiosity over what he was hiding, and his own obvious misery kept her annoyance in check.

Finally locating a square of folded cloth in one pocket, Maxwell held it to his nose warily and glanced at her over the hem of it. After a few careful dabs, he lowered it and sighed. “It’s about Millenium.”

Ah. Far more interesting than a quibble over atheists or a misplaced, regenerating Scotsman. Folding her fingertips together and sitting back in her chair, Integra cocked her head. “Very well, Maxwell. You have my attention.”

But there he went again, features gathering a certain unease about them that she had learned to predict by now. Then again, Enrico Maxwell was not a difficult man to read. Whereas she was all poised, firm calm, he was anxious and arrogant and jumpy, with that amusing little tic under his right eye whenever he grew too upset…


Or about to sneeze.

This time, he cupped the handkerchief tightly to his nose and mouth, containing the cat-like explosions into half a dozen quick, wrenching “h’khff!” sounds. There he paused, refusing to lower the cloth but blinking dazedly, almost looking through her rather than at her. One more seemed to be tickling at him.


That seemed to do the trick, judging by the relief smoothing over his features. However, the repeated jerking from this and previous fits had snapped his head forward one too many times and sought to dishevel even Maxwell’s obsessively tight, smooth ponytail. Several of the wispy silver strands had fluttered down in front of his face, brushing across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. With a frustrated sigh, he shot a look at his visitor. “Pardon.” And promptly unwound the binding holding his hair in face, flipping his head down to let it trail almost to the floor with its sheer length alone.

“God bless you,” Integra replied again, momentarily letting Millenium slip to the wayside as the priest went about primping himself back into place. He would not speak of it until he was done anyway. “You do appear to have caught something, I’m afraid.”

“Several of my employees may have had colds within the past few weeks,” Maxwell grumbled from beneath his hair as he combed his fingertips through it and gathered it back in place. Straightening back up, he continued, “But I assure you that I…” Dread crimped the corners of his mouth down. “I…”

Both hands left his hair as he pitched forward into his cupped hands with another, muffled “H’KHFF!” that incited the fit all over again.

With a frustrated sigh, Integra rose to her feet and rounded the corner of the desk to move behind the trembling priest. “Oh, for heaven’s sakes…” Even as he tried to lean away from the assertive woman, she took a firm hold of his hair and pulled him back towards herself. She had never seen him take it down before, and it was amazing just how damned much of the stuff he had. Falling helplessly across his face and no doubt worsening the fit as errant strands found the tip of the priest’s much-abused nose. Integra saw to these, however, as she removed her gloves and combed them back from his brow with nimble fingertips even as Maxwell spasmed and shook with ill-contained sneezes.

“H’nkggt-! …nhxt!” He was trying harder to suppress them now, with the webbing of skin between a thumb and forefinger pressed against his nostrils in an anxious breakwater. “Hih’kght!

Patiently, Integra held his hair back and narrowed her eyes down at the shaking of his thin shoulders as he reverted to silent stifling again. “You’re making it worse by holding them in,” she observed, carding her fingers absent-mindedly through the sleek strands.

It was a rare occasion indeed that Maxwell heeded her words, but she was queerly satisfied to hear the next quick catch of his breath released into several deliciously satisfying “Heh-ISHHH’eh!” sounds.

He finished with a soft groan and a sagging of posture, testament enough to his weakness. Integra did not coo or tut gently in sympathy, merely gave an admonishing sound as she gathered each escaped lock back into place. However, she did let her hands linger slightly in the process. The thought of touching Maxwell had always repulsed her. It wasn’t that he was unclean in and of himself, but his personality was slimy enough for her to keep her distance. However, doing so now was almost… pleasant. His hair was clean and smooth and slid between her dark fingers like thin, silvered ribbons. Not as solid a color as heather or iron, but not as transient as smoke; it was more pearlescent, if anything. Thus absorbed, Integra blinked in surprise when she felt the priest lean into her offhanded stroking a little, evidently lulled by the sensation of her nails grazing across his scalp.

With a smirk, Integra roused herself from her reverie and pulled the tresses into their former tight binding, smooth and sleek. “You certainly seem to have whatever they had. I suggest tea and bedrest.”

Brushing herself free of imaginary dust, Integra pulled her gloves back on as she returned to her chair, as primly as if nothing had ever transpired. Maxwell frowned minutely, but did not immediately sneer at her suggestion. Well, perhaps he was in a more agreeable mood now to divulge some information to her.

“Now, about Millenium.”

Maxwell closed his eyes but nodded, a corner of the handkerchief pressed to his nose. “Si, Millenium…”

Link to comment

Ohhh this fic is lovely!!!!! :D

As always, your fics are wonderful and well-written and very sexy!! I'm loving this setup. Maxwell is to die for (I nearly died when he said "Grazie…” after being blessed!!) and I like how Integra is so calmly superior to him. It was so cute when she held his hair for him! Hehehe!!

I'm suprised that you say Maxwell isn't attractive in the anime, 'cause um, that fanart is...WOW. I squealed when I saw it, and that has his hair UP---God knows what would happen if I saw him with hair down. :omg:

Anyway, please continue!!!! It's great!! ;)


Link to comment

Aww, thanks you two! And haha, Doji XD He's attractive, I suppose. I mean, I love the artwork in Hellsing as it's so crazy and odd, but were definitely a few moments were I was like, "EUGH MAXWELL YOU'RE HIDEOUS."

He's just absolutely bonkers, is all XD

Link to comment

Mmmmmmmmmmm.... :laugh: You write such a magistal Integra, luv! And that Maxwell he is le sexy in that picture, too. :) But you're right... many of his appearances in the manga are just... unpleasantly eerie.

Thank you for this little gem ^_^

Link to comment
  • 11 years later...

I know this is late as hell, but I just HAD to comment on this LOVELY and AMAZING fic! This is also the first comment I have ever made on this website, and this fic is the best I have ever read! Beautiful! Astounding! So perfect! I love your writing and Maxwell's sneezes are so cute I nearly cried when I couldn't find a part 2 xD Thank you for writing this amazing piece!

Link to comment

As always your writing is brilliant! I don't care what it is, I'll read it! This is lovely.

Link to comment


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...