Drabble: Sugar Kisses [Harry/Draco]
Not only is today Groundhog's Day, it's also two of my favorite fandomers' birthdays: The lovely fourth_rose, for whom *ahem* I must extend a heartfelt IOU, and shikishi.
shikishi has told me on a couple of occasions that she loves fics where Harry and Draco play around in the kitchen. So this one's for you.
Happy Birthday, shikishi!!
Title: Sugar Kisses
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Wordcount: 350
Rating: Sweet fluff.
There is flour sifted all over the floor and what looks like a fried egg stuck to the ceiling. And somehow, although Harry is unclear exactly how, the teakettle has melted into an angry-looking blob.
“I made breakfast,” Draco offers.
“Yes, I can see that,” Harry says, sidestepping a fallen pat of butter so he could get closer to that pale skin he can see peeking from beneath Draco’s apron. “What if I just want to eat you instead?”
The telltale signs of a pout begin to form on Draco’s lips. “I worked really hard on this,” he points out. “It’s your birthday and I wanted it to be special.”
Harry’s hands easily find purchase on Draco’s narrow hips and he pulls him forward to lick the icing sugar dusted across Draco’s face. “Believe me,” he sighs, dipping his tongue inside Draco’s mouth and tasting none of the bitterness he had always assumed was inside, “it is. So are you.”
“But- but I made crepes,” Draco whines, even as he offers his neck so Harry can lick some more of that sugary sweetness off his skin. “It’s a Black family recipe.”
Harry leans backward just enough to let his eyes sweep the kitchen. A boiling cauldron is belching globs of green liquid onto the stovetop and burnt slices of toast are zooming around above their heads. “I think I’ll stick with you, if you don’t mind.”
Draco bites his lip, considering that for a moment. “Hmm… That’s probably a good idea,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Cooking is such a plebian activity anyway.”
“Something best left to the professionals, and me. Besides,” replies Harry, pulling Draco out of the kitchen. “I know of better way to make my birthday special.”
“I suppose it requires me writhing beneath you, screaming your name. ‘Harder. Faster. More. Oh Harry, you make me feel so goood,’” he chides.
Harry’s eyes widen. “Brat.” He makes a move to smack Draco’s arse, but Draco is too quick and they both run into the bedroom, falling laughing into bed.
~*~
Later on, after the bed’s been made and the kitchen’s been cleaned, Harry reckons he can still taste the sugar on Draco’s lips.
shikishi has told me on a couple of occasions that she loves fics where Harry and Draco play around in the kitchen. So this one's for you.
Happy Birthday, shikishi!!
Title: Sugar Kisses
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Wordcount: 350
Rating: Sweet fluff.
There is flour sifted all over the floor and what looks like a fried egg stuck to the ceiling. And somehow, although Harry is unclear exactly how, the teakettle has melted into an angry-looking blob.
“I made breakfast,” Draco offers.
“Yes, I can see that,” Harry says, sidestepping a fallen pat of butter so he could get closer to that pale skin he can see peeking from beneath Draco’s apron. “What if I just want to eat you instead?”
The telltale signs of a pout begin to form on Draco’s lips. “I worked really hard on this,” he points out. “It’s your birthday and I wanted it to be special.”
Harry’s hands easily find purchase on Draco’s narrow hips and he pulls him forward to lick the icing sugar dusted across Draco’s face. “Believe me,” he sighs, dipping his tongue inside Draco’s mouth and tasting none of the bitterness he had always assumed was inside, “it is. So are you.”
“But- but I made crepes,” Draco whines, even as he offers his neck so Harry can lick some more of that sugary sweetness off his skin. “It’s a Black family recipe.”
Harry leans backward just enough to let his eyes sweep the kitchen. A boiling cauldron is belching globs of green liquid onto the stovetop and burnt slices of toast are zooming around above their heads. “I think I’ll stick with you, if you don’t mind.”
Draco bites his lip, considering that for a moment. “Hmm… That’s probably a good idea,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Cooking is such a plebian activity anyway.”
“Something best left to the professionals, and me. Besides,” replies Harry, pulling Draco out of the kitchen. “I know of better way to make my birthday special.”
“I suppose it requires me writhing beneath you, screaming your name. ‘Harder. Faster. More. Oh Harry, you make me feel so goood,’” he chides.
Harry’s eyes widen. “Brat.” He makes a move to smack Draco’s arse, but Draco is too quick and they both run into the bedroom, falling laughing into bed.
~*~
Later on, after the bed’s been made and the kitchen’s been cleaned, Harry reckons he can still taste the sugar on Draco’s lips.