Squeaky Clean

Squeaky Clean

Warm, full and content, Harry leaned back in his chair, sighing happily. The man across from him wiped at his mouth primly with an emerald napkin. He eyed the other's precarious position with vague disdain and returned the napkin to its rightful place beside the plate. Pushing his chair back, he rose gracefully, heading for the adjoining living room.

Harry watched him curiously. "Just where do you think you're going?"

The pale man with silver hair and metal eyes turned to face him with an exaggerated show of well-bred confidence. "To the living room, obviously. My show starts in ten minutes."

The brunette removed himself from his chair and stood up, the glint in his eyes a clear challenge. The blond stared back boredly, but his stance was en garde. "Since I cooked dinner, the least you could do is help clean up. I am not your wife, you know."

Draco smiled mockingly. "Good thing, that. Just imagine what our poor children would look like."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just get back here and help me."

The other man stared at him as though he'd sprouted an extra head. "You don't actually expect me to do housework?"

"Why not? If I can do it, and I have been since I was old enough to walk, then so can you."

He looked unimpressed. "Yes, I always knew you were good for something."

"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, looking irritated. "Come on, stop being such a git! Come help me."

"Absolutely not. That's impossible."

Harry stared at him, as though he were a puzzle that he had to figure out. Suddenly, understanding flashed behind Harry's verdant gaze, and a triumphant smirk settled on his face. Draco eyed him warily. The puzzle pieces had come together.

"You don't know how, do you?" Harry asked slowly, eyes glowing with amusement.

Draco glared huffily at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm a Malfoy. Why the hell would I concern myself with menial labour?"

The Gryffindor ignored him. "How can a full grown wizard not know that? You're twenty-two, for Merlin's sake!"

"So? Just because I'm not a plebeian like you, Potter, doesn't make me any less of a wizard."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "No wonder you never help. C'mon Draco, I'll show you what to do."

"No. Why would I want to learn something like that?"

With a sigh of frustration, Harry cast a levitation charm on the dishes left abandoned on the table and grabbed Draco by the arm, pulling him out into the kitchen. The dishes floated along behind them cheerfully like little porcelain ducks. Following Harry's wand, they stacked themselves beside the sink and waited there patiently.

"So," Harry began, smiling at his companion, "magic or muggle?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Potter? It's bad enough you have me doing housework, let alone exposing me to more muggle crap."

Harry shrugged. "What about the telly? Or the computer? So far, I'd say you're getting along quite well with muggle crap."

"Stop prolonging the inevitable and tell me what to do already," Draco grumbled, pouting like a miserable child.

"All right. It's very simple really," Harry said. He pointed his wand towards the sink, swirled it around in a clockwise motion and chanted. The dishes immediately lifted into the air, lining up before the sink, now full of water, where a sponge, followed by a towel, were waiting. He swished his wand again. "Finite Incantatum."

He nodded towards Draco. "Your turn."

The blond man sighed and pushed away from the counter he had been leaning against. As he hadn't really been paying much attention, he muttered something that sounded similar and flicked his wand. A strange gurgling noise emanated from the sink, like a low growl, and then there was a huge explosion, water and soap bubbles flying everywhere and dousing the kitchen. Dishes began swirling about crazily, crashing into walls and cabinets with loud shatters.

Harry yelped as soap dripped into his eyes, blinding him. He tore off his glasses and scrubbed at his face, eyes closed tight and burning painfully. He could hear things whizzing by him, and plates breaking noisilly.

"Harry, look out!"

Harry never even saw it coming. Still blinded by soap, he felt the plate connect sharply with his forehead and cried out, dropping heavily to the kitchen floor.

******

"Harry?" Draco called, shaking the other man's shoulder gently. He pulled him half into his lap, cradling Harry's limp form against his chest. A little blood was seeping from the wound on his temple, and the surrounding skin was quickly darkening to a nasty shade of purple. Draco pressed his wand against it, whispering one of the only healing charms he knew. That sort of thing was Harry's area of expertise, after all. He brushed a few stray locks of dark hair from Harry's forehead and carefully shook him again. "Harry, wake up..."

Bright green eyes blinked open, and Harry groaned, wincing at the bright kitchen light. It had been Harry's idea to get a house that was half muggle and half magic. Draco had hated the idea from the beginning, but little things like the telly were starting to change his mind. Not that he'd ever tell Harry that. Of course, knowing Harry, he probably didn't need to.

"Ugh, I feel like I got run over by a train," Harry moaned, sitting up slowly and leaning against Draco's shoulder.

"Sorry I couldn't do anything about that," Draco whispered, half-afraid that Harry would be mad at him for causing the whole mess. "I stopped the bleeding though."

Harry smiled tightly. "Thanks, I'll take care of the rest."

He said a few quick healing charms and the bruising faded. Once he was back to normal again, he glanced around the destroyed kitchen, frowning at the mess. Fortunately they hadn't lost all of their dishes, only the ones that were out, but the dishwater had soaked everything. Harry groaned, turning away from the chaotic kitchen and burying his face in the curve of the other man's neck. He sighed. "Draco..."

Draco stroked his hair, biting his bottom lip guiltily. "Sorry..."

"Oh, it's all right," Harry said, although Draco noted that he didn't sound too enthusiastic about it. "Next time, pay attention. For now... let's get this cleaned up."

An hour later the tired and generally grumpy couple collapsed onto a comfortable old couch in the living room, staring at the blank television screen. Harry relaxed in Draco's arms, closing his eyes wearily. Draco was still staring sullenly at the telly.

"I missed my show," he whined, although he didn't put the usual energy into it and came out sounding tired.

"It's your fault," Harry reminded, not bothering to move from his comfortable position leaning against Draco's chest.

"Oh, shut up."

Harry sighed and pressed a light kiss to the dip of Draco's pale neck. "Now I'm all tired and grouchy."

Draco cocked a brow in bored disinterest. "So?"

"So," Harry mimicked, copying Draco's customary drawl, "aren't you going to cheer me up?"

Draco smirked, leaning down to kiss him deeply. He tasted like the red wine they'd had with dinner, and a little like soap, but beneath those things was the distinctly spicy taste of Harry that he knew so well. He buried one hand in the other man's dark hair, tangling his pale fingers in the black silk and nibbled gently on Harry's bottom lip. Harry was breathless when he pulled away, eyes dark and swollen lips the colour of roses. Draco smiled at him. "Demanding, aren't you?"

Harry grinned. "Always."

~Fin~