Let Them Eat Cake!

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Just trying to clear out my one-shots so we can get to the good stuf... hehe ;) FLames are for roasting marshmellows and writing roxierose13 in smoke :)


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“Why do we have to make it?”

“Because it means more that way.”

“But I hate cooking the Muggle way!”

“Draco,” Harry sighed, “it’s for Hermione’s birthday. You could at least pretend to care.”

“Why should I pretend to care if I don’t?”

“Draco!” Harry glared at his boyfriend of two years across the counter of the kitchen in their Burkeshire Manor.

Draco pouted and folded his arms childishly over his chest. “But I can’t cook! Why do Muggles do it anyway?”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Draco was silent for a moment, staring resolutely out the window to the garden beyond. He never understood why Harry always insisted on making things the Muggle way instead of just conjuring things. Personally, he didn’t see the appeal.

He snuck a glance back at Harry, who was idly tracing circles on the countertop. He knew Harry wanted to do this for Hermione; she was his best friend, after all.

“Alright,” he sighed finally, unfolding his arms, “I’ll help you make the stupid cake.”

Harry glanced up at him and his face split into a grin. He slid off the stool and bounced over to Draco, grabbing him into a hug. “I knew you would, Dray,” he said and pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

Draco sighed as Harry pulled away and headed for the pantry to find the necessary ingredients. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself. He never quite knew what power it was that Harry had over him that made him give in.

Harry soon came back, his arms full of ingredients. He dumped them on the counter and separated them while Draco looked on. Draco watched as Harry took out bowls and stirring spoons. He had no idea what to do with any of it. Every time he tried to cook, it always went horribly wrong.

Finally, Harry had gathered all the necessary things to make the cake. He reached onto a shelf that held a row of cookbooks and pulled down a red-bound book. He flipped it open and propped it up against a knife rack.

“Okay, Draco,” he said, pulling Draco off his stool and over to stand next to him.

Draco came, though reluctantly. He watched dubiously as Harry handed him a wooden stirring spoon.

“First, we have to put in the margarine,” Harry said, picking up a small stick wrapped in silver paper. He dropped the stick of margarine in a mixing bowl. Then he took a close look at the recipe and grabbed a bag of sugar. He poured out a measuring cup full and poured it on top of the margarine.

“Okay, stir,” Harry directed Draco.

Draco glanced at the spoon in his hand and then at Harry, then the bowl. He moved closer tentatively, like he was afraid it might jump out at him. He began to crush the stick of margarine and mix with the crunching sugar.

“This is hard,” he complained as he tried to squish the butter and sugar together. Harry said nothing, but watched with amusement as Draco tried to stir. He knew it was hard. He’d done this many a time at the Dursley’s.

Finally, he deemed it well-stirred enough and allowed Draco to stop.

“Alright, now we have to—“ He stopped himself suddenly and glanced at the stove. “Oh, I forgot to turn on the oven, just add in two eggs, okay?”

“Wha--?” Draco said, panicking slightly as Harry took off for the other side of the spacious kitchen.

Harry was momentarily gone, so Draco looked back at the bowl. Next to it sat a few eggs, waiting to be added to the mix. He glanced around, hoping Harry might come back and help him. He was no good at Muggle cooking.

In the end, Draco figured he was on his own for this step. He carefully picked up one of the cold eggs and shook it experimentally. He shrugged and cracked it against the counter top. It cracked open, surprising him, and he let it drop.

“Oops,” he muttered, looking down at the floor where there was now a puddle of slippery egg.

He disregarded it for the moment, though, and was able to crack open two more eggs and drop them into the mixing bowl. He looked over at the recipe and read that it needed 2 C of flour. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

He grabbed the bag of flour and a goblet that stood nearby. He poured out two goblets full of flour, and then added them to the mixture. He began stirring, wondering at the thickness of the batter.

“Hey,” Harry said, coming back from the oven, “did you get the e—whoa!” He careened out of control as he stepped into the puddle of egg from before. He slid a few feet before coming crashing to the floor. “Ow!”

Draco looked over at him and tried not to look guilty.

Harry glared at him from the floor. “I take that as a no.”

“No, I got it,” Draco said evasively, turning back to the thick mixture. He thought it seemed much too hard to stir, so he reached over for the closest liquid and poured a bit in. That made it easier.

“You know,” Harry said crossly, picking himself up gingerly from the floor and rubbing his ass, “just because we’re cooking in the Muggle way, doesn’t mean you can forget how to clean up using your wand.”

Draco glanced at him and saw him nursing his bruised behind. “I can make that better for you,” he said seductively.

Harry glared at him. “Yeah, you can, but first, you are finishing this cake!”

Draco scowled and turned back to the mixture. He cocked his head to the side and frowned. It didn’t look quite right. He read the recipe again and saw that he needed to add something called vanilla. He glanced around at the bottles and saw a small bottle of dark liquid.

He poured out a spoonful and dumped it into the bowl. Stirring it, he watched as the batter darkened a tiny bit. Finally, he thought it might be ready.

“What do we do now?” Draco asked, looking over at Harry, who had remained resolutely silent since the fall.

Harry came and looked over Draco’s shoulder, examining the batter closely. He decided that it looked alright and reached over for a rectangular pan.

“Pour it in here,” he instructed Draco.

Draco lifted the bowl containing the batter and watched as it drizzled slowly into the proffered pan. Harry helped him scrape the remaining batter from the bottom and then led Draco over to the oven.

“Now we put it in here,” he said, indicating the oven. “And we wait about an hour or so.”

“That long?” Draco asked, eyeing the Muggle appliance in distaste.

“Yes, that long,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

He left Draco standing at the oven for a moment and walked back over to the counter to grab the timer. He was walking around the counter when he stepped into the puddle of egg that still adorned the floor and ended up, once more, on his bruised ass on the tile floor.

“Shit!” he cursed to himself. “Draco!”

“What?”

“Come here!” Harry called, trying to hide the anger in his voice.

He heard footsteps, and then they stopped.

“Where are you?”

“On the other side of the counter, come here.”

He heard Draco coming toward him, and he was ready. Draco came around the corner and caught sight of Harry on the floor. He was about to stop, but Harry shot out an arm and grabbed Draco’s pant leg, pulling him roughly to the floor.

“Ow!” Draco exclaimed as he came crashing to the floor.

He struggled to get up but Harry immediately climbed on top of him, pinning him to the floor. Harry glared down at him, using his knees to keep him in place.

“You want to clean this up?”

“Ew, Harry,” Draco whined,” we’re lying in egg.”

“I know,” Harry said seriously, his eyes glittering as he glared at Draco. “Do you know whose fault that is?”

Draco stared up at him, then his expression turned indignant. “Yes! You’re the one who wanted me to make this ruddy cake!”

“You’re blaming this on me?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Got a better suggestion?”

“Yes, I do! You’re twenty years old, Draco; you should know how to clean up after yourself!”

Draco scowled as he looked up at Harry from his position on his back. He didn’t like it. Just the knowledge that there was egg on the floor was bothering him.

In a quick movement, he had maneuvered his way out from under Harry and he was now the one straddling the other. He smirked down at Harry from his dominant position, ignoring the murderous look he was receiving.

“Now, Harry, if you do recall,” Draco said smoothly, allowing his fingers to brush over Harry’s sides, “you said I could help rid that soreness on your bum.”

“You just want to touch my ass,” Harry snarked. “And there’s no way I’m letting you off so easy.”

“But, Harry,” Draco whispered, leaning down and flicking his tongue over Harry’s neck, “you can never resist me.”

“It’s not you I’m resisting,” Harry shot back, shifting his body and trying to ignore his growing hardness at Draco’s actions.

Draco’s fingers were now maneuvering their way under Harry’s shirt, pushing it up farther as they continued their ascent. They moved nimbly over the tanned skin, brushing sensually over the Quidditch-toned muscles.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry said warningly, feeling himself giving in to the subtle touches.

Draco ignored the warnings and continued moving his hands over Harry’s chest, pushing the shirt up to Harry’s chin. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Harry’s neck, just below his ear, flicking his hot tongue over the tanned flesh.

He heard Harry groan and knew that he was winning. He pulled away for half a second to pull of Harry’s shirt. He ripped it over his head and tossed it aside. Before Harry could protest, Draco’s hands traveled further south, nimbly undoing the button of Harry’s jeans.

He resumed his worship of Harry’s neck, sliding his tongue and teeth over the exposed skin the neck. He nibbled the flesh, drawing a moan from Harry.

His hands, meanwhile, got the buttons undone on the jeans and were moving torturously under the fabric. They brushed against the hardness in Harry’s trousers and Harry groaned.

He knew he had lost, but he didn’t care anymore. He would do anything for Draco, even if it meant having sex on the kitchen floor that still had egg on it. Harry thought about this and groped for his wand.

Draco pulled away for a second, looking at Harry questioningly. Harry finally got hold of his wand and gave it a quick wave. “Evanesco.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Draco commented off-handedly.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached up, grabbing Draco around the back of the neck and pulling him into a fiery kiss. Their mouths opened up simultaneously and the kiss grew in intensity.

Harry moaned into the kiss as Draco’s tongue thrust greedily into his mouth, tasting all it could of the cavern within. Draco’s hands were forgotten as the kiss continued. Draco’s hands, instead, twined themselves in Harry’s thick, dark hair.

“Dra—“ Harry gasped, breaking the kiss. He could feel his erection straining against his jeans, desperate for release.

Draco pressed kisses down Harry’s neck and over his shoulders and chest while running his hands over the well-muscled torso.

His teeth scraped over Harry’s nipple before he encircled the nub with his warm mouth, sucking reverently.

“Fuck—Draco, please!” Harry panted, pushing his body upward.

Draco finally heeded his pleas and pulled away, shoving Harry’s jeans over his hips and off. He grabbed for his wand and performed a Lubrication and Protection Spell. Harry groaned as he felt Draco’s slick fingers enter his body.

“Dray—please, fuck—come on!” he exclaimed, squirming from the torture of Draco’s fingers in his body.

Draco plunged the digits into Harry’s body several times before deciding he was ready. He removed the fingers and quickly removed his own garments, then placed the head of his leaking cock at Harry’s entrance.

He pushed in slowly, fully sheathing himself within Harry. He watched Harry’s face contort with pleasure as he pushed in deeper. Harry’s eyes were squeezed shut and his breath was coming in heavy pants.

Once Draco’s cock was completely buried in the boy, he began to move, building up speed quickly. He couldn’t hold on too much longer as he was already unbearably hard.

He thrust into Harry, slamming into the receptive body beneath his. He could feel Harry’s hot muscles clenching over his cock as he thrust back in. It was almost too much and he could already feel the beginnings of his climax.

“Fuck, Harry—you’re so—Harry!” Draco cried as he slammed once more into the hot, tight body.

Beneath him, Harry slammed his hips to meet Draco’s, thrust for thrust. He felt waves of heat when their bodies connected and it sent him spiraling in pleasure.

“Oh—Draco—shit, fuck! Dray—!” Harry yelled as he came suddenly, white obscuring his vision as he shot suddenly. His body convulsed as waves of pleasure crashed over his body.

Draco felt Harry come and heard him scream his name and knew it was over. Within seconds of Harry’s climax, Draco erupted, filling the raven-haired boy with his cum. He closed his eyes as reels of heat rolled over his body, leaving him with a tingling sensation.

He collapsed on top of Harry when he was all but spent. They lay together panting for some time, each trying to control their breathing and get it back to normal.

Draco sighed contentedly after a while and rolled off Harry. He lay on the cool tile and stared at the mural on the ceiling. “I guess Muggle cooking isn’t so bad,” he said finally.

Beside him, Harry laughed. “I told you.”

Draco merely cocked an eyebrow in agreement. He was about to say more when there was an explosion from the other side of the room.

Harry was up in a second, staring around for the source of the noise. Draco got up slower and watched as Harry made a beeline for the oven.

Harry grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door. Billows of black smoke issued from the open door and Harry stepped back, coughing and waving his hand in front of him. Once the smoke cleared, he reached in and grabbed the pan, pulling it out.

He set it on the counter and Draco came to look at it. There was a deep hole in the middle and the rest was blackened. Harry stared at it for a moment, and then looked up at Draco slowly. “What exactly did you out in this?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever was on the counter.”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. He looked back to the still-smoking cake and sighed. “I guess you are a bad cook.”

“Well, I did warn you.”

***

“Wow, Harry, Draco, this is amazing!”

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance but merely smiled at her. Hermione beamed as she looked at her birthday cake. It was a decadent cake of three layers, decorated with white icing and pink flowers adorning the sides.

“Did you make this?” she asked, inspecting the cake and taking a taste of the frosting.

“You could say that,” Harry said slowly, slipping his arm around Draco’s waste and hiding the smile that wanted so desperately to surface.

~*~

A/N: Please review, I mean, I really do read them :D

EDIT: I don't understand the dislike I seem to have accrued on this site. Makes me want to leave. However, I can't, mainly 'cause I need it to link things to my website. I'm sorry you guys don't like my writing anymore. Since the site has been back I've received more flames than ever and it's not pleasant. So, review if you want.