Chapter Text
Draco loved Harry, but sometimes he had a hard time showing it. They’d only been dating for six months, which meant they were still getting to know each other.
It scared Draco that he had such strong feelings for Harry. Six months was too early for love, but Draco couldn’t help it. He’d loved Harry since they were eleven years old.
Stop. He was embarrassed by his own thoughts. There was no proof that he’d loved Harry since he was a child. He’d hated Harry. He’d wanted to see him defeated. He’d wanted to see him dead. None of that equated to love.
Draco gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the cookbook in front of him. He was quite good at lying to himself.
It was a week before Harry’s birthday, and Draco wanted to make it special for him. Really, really special. He wanted to render Harry speechless. He wanted Harry throbbing for him. He wanted Harry to beg him. But first Draco had to bake him a cake.
His mum had loaned him the cookbook. She seemed puzzled when he’d asked for it. “I didn’t know you could cook,” she said.
“I can’t.”
She smiled a little. “Why don’t you just have Minny bake him a cake?”
He hated that she predicted his intentions. He must’ve had pathetic written all over him. “No, I want it to be me.”
Back in the kitchen, he flipped through the book, scowling. None of these recipes were right for Harry. He’d hate a fancy cake. He’d want something simple, something that screamed homemade, something that would make him happy. He wouldn’t want anything too pure blood.
Finally, he found a recipe for a simple vanilla cake. Good, Draco thought, and Summoned the necessary bowls, utensils, and cookware.
Draco eyeballed the measurements of flour and sugar; he accidently added three eggs instead of two. Oh well. He was experimenting. He knew you had to be careful when measuring out potion ingredients, but he was baking a cake, not brewing Amortentia. There was room for mistakes!
He beat the batter until it was utterly smooth. It was only after that he read he shouldn’t overwork the batter, which he didn’t even know was an option.
Cursing, he threw the mess into a cake pan and then slid it into a cold oven. He waited and waited, not understanding why the cake was taking so long to bake. He glanced around the ancient kitchen. Merlin, he’d splattered flour and milk everywhere.
Draco heard the Floo roar to life. Harry was home.
Harry trudged down to the kitchen. He looked exhausted. His face was a little pale, his hair as crazy as ever.
“Hard day at work?” Draco asked.
“Yeah.” Sighing, Harry fell into a chair. He gazed at the mess on the counter. “Are you cooking?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s for your birthday.”
He frowned. “My birthday isn’t for a whole week.”
“I know. It’s called practicing.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “I’m excited to see what you come up with.”
Draco went back to the oven, frowning. He tested the cake with his wand. It was still gooey in the middle. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Did you preheat the oven?”
“Damn it!” He waved a wooden spoon in the air. “Why am I always mucking up food?”
“You probably just need to pay more attention.”
Draco sauntered closer. “I guess you’ll need to punish me.”
“I would rather you punish me.”
Sucking in a breath, Draco leaned even closer. “Oh, yeah? Have you been a bad boy?”
Harry’s eyes flashed. “Absolutely.”
“Bend over the table! Trousers and pants down!” Draco said cheerfully. "I want to give you your first present!"
Harry hesitated. “But . . . the table is covered in flour.”
Draco twirled the spoon between his fingers. “Do you want me to punish you? Yes? Then do what I say.”
Laughing nervously, Harry stepped out of his trousers and pants, then bent over the table. Draco licked his lips. He ran his hands over Harry’s warm, warm cheeks, groping, massaging. He pulled apart his cheeks to glimpse his pink hole. Harry moaned and buried his head in his arms.
“Such a pretty arse,” Draco said.
“God.”
Draco leaned down and licked over Harry’s hole, tasting sweat.
“Fuck,” Harry said, trembling. “I’m not prepared.”
“I don’t care.” Draco loved tasting Harry like this. He loved knowing his body’s secrets.
“At least cast a cleaning spell before fingering me.”
Draco sighed. “All right.” He licked Harry some more, drooling, getting him wet. He drilled into him, loving that he felt his hole opening just a little.
“Please.”
“Yes, love?”
“I need you. I need your fingers.”
Draco unbuttoned his own trousers and sneaked a hand into his pants to stroke his aching cock. He loved it when Harry begged. “More, love. I want to hear more.”
“Please. I want your fingers. I want you to hurt me with your fingers.”
“What about my cock?”
“I want you to fucking ruin me with your cock.”
“I don’t know. I might not want to give you the satisfaction.”
Harry groaned loudly. “Please, Draco. Please.”
Draco grabbed the spoon. He traced it over Harry’s cheeks, watching his back and thighs for a reaction. Harry jerked.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
He spanked Harry lightly. “Yeah?”
“Harder.”
He spanked him harder. Harry jumped, then moaned.
“Harder. Please.”
He wanted to hit Harry with all his might, but he forced himself to slow down. He was getting too worked up. Alternating cheeks, he spanked Harry with the spoon, watching as his flesh bloomed red. Harry moaned and shook. Draco kissed and licked his abused skin.
“Want more?”
“God, Draco, put it in me.”
Draco paused. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I want it. Do it.”
He muttered a cleaning spell, then Conjured up lots of lube. He checked the handle for splinters. Fuck. He was really going to do it.
Carefully, he pressed the end of the spoon into Harry’s wet hole. Harry moaned and arched into it.
“Like this?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
He didn’t know how far he should push it in. When half of the handle was inside Harry, he stopped. “Still feel good?”
“Fuck, it’s so hard.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No - but -” He thrashed.
“What do you need, love?”
“Fuck me.” Harry wiggled his hips. “Fuck me with it.”
Draco gulped. His mouth was so fucking dry. “You’re not prepared. We should go slow.”
“I don’t care. I want it. Just - fuck.”
Draco moved the spoon in and out of his arse. He couldn’t look away. It just looked so damn wrong. He sped up his thrusting a little. Harry twisted, trying to follow. He was beautiful when he was this needy.
Unable to wait any longer, he muttered a spell that made the spoon fuck Harry on its own. He walked around the table, trailing his fingers over Harry’s back.
“Do you want my cock?”
Harry, looking dazed, nodded quickly.
“Open.”
Moaning, Harry shuffled closer to the edge and parted his lips. Draco thrust into his mouth. He braided his fingers in his soft hair, anchoring, as he fucked him hard.
Harry gave a muffled cry. He arched into the spoon.
Draco was panting. His thrusts were brutal. “Touch yourself. I want you to scream around my cock.”
Harry’s hand disappeared under the table. His arm flexed as he stroked himself quickly, his long lashes fluttering. Draco’s orgasm approached, but he forced himself to not look away. He wanted to see Harry tip over the edge.
“Come, love,” he panted.
Stilling, Harry moaned loudly, saliva escaping his mouth, his eyes rolling back. He was coming and coming, but Draco didn’t stop fucking his mouth. His own orgasm caught him by surprise; he threw his head back as he shot his load down Harry’s throat.
Through the haze, he muttered a spell and the spoon stopped moving. Harry winced as he pushed himself up.
“All right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Harry gently pulled the spoon out. He stared at its drenched end. “Christ.”
“Come here.” Draco wrapped his arms around him and kissed him deeply.
Harry pulled away, laughing. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“Are you okay? I didn’t really think - I just wanted to do it.”
Harry laughed again. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. I’m a little surprised, that’s all.”
Draco bit his lip and looked down. “It’s your birthday week. I wanted to do something special for you.”
“You will spoil me.” Harry pulled him closer and kissed his ear. He whispered: “I love that.”
Draco tried not to shiver. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Let’s play Quidditch like old times.”
Smirking, Draco said, “Fantastic. Another chance to beat your arse.”
Harry faked a wince. “I dunno if my arse can take another beating.”
Draco’s smirk widened.