The Icing on the Cake

Harry stood at the kitchen counter with a large knife in one hand, and a container of chocolate fudge icing in the other. Head cocked to one side, hovering over the still-warm cake before him; it was obvious he didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"You slaughtered a basilisk, you can bloody well ice a cake," Harry muttered to himself, oblivious to the presence in the doorway behind him. He slid the knife into the icing and swiped it across the top of the cake.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Crumbs from the top layer of the cake were dragging across the top of the icing, bits of white cake marring the smooth texture.

Draco leaned against the doorframe, tied his bathrobe closed, and drank in the sight before him. It was just after 7am on a Saturday - far too early for anyone to be awake, let alone two twenty-something wizards who had spent the previous night making the Kama Sutra look like a beginner's guide. Draco let his eyes travel the length of Harry's body - from his bare feet, along the toned and tanned legs (remnants of their previous week in Spain), up to that perfect little ass which was currently hidden beneath a pair of relatively unattractive, plain white cotton boxers ("No one sees them but you, Draco, and I'm all about comfort"). His gaze continued upwards, appreciating the dips and curves along the muscles in his back, across the broad shoulders and up that delicious neck that was just begging to be licked.

"You have to let it cool first."

Harry jumped, startled by Draco's quiet voice, and turned towards him in the doorway.

"Er, yeah, I guess I mucked it up, didn't I?" Harry looked back down at the partially mangled cake, brow furrowed in frustration.

Draco walked over to the counter, sliding his arm around Harry's waist and placing a light kiss on his lightly freckled shoulder. Harry looked over at him and gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry. I tried."

"Was that going to be for me?"

"Yes, it's - or rather, it was - going to be your birthday cake. It was supposed to be a surprise," he frowned.

Draco smiled and let out a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

"You're laughing at me."

"I'm not! I just...that's incredibly sweet, Potter." Draco gave a look of mock seriousness.

Harry blushed. "Oh. Well, um, I'll go out and buy you one instead. A proper cake with writing and everything."

"What's wrong with this cake?"

"It's...It looks horrid. I ruined it." Harry looked back to the cake again, pushing the plate away.

"It's gorgeous."

"Liar. It's hideous," Harry laughed.

"Okay, so it isn't exactly...pretty. Still edible though. We'll have it for tea later." Draco took his finger and ran it along the top of the cake, coating it with liberal amounts of icing.

"I'm not much of a cake person, actually. But who's ever heard of a birthday pudding?" Harry shrugged.

He watched Draco raise the chocolate-coated finger to his lips; his mouth watering as Draco stuck the tip inside and closed his eyes in flavourful bliss.

"Draco, don't do that," he swallowed thickly.

Draco's eyes opened, his finger still inside his mouth, and raised an eyebrow at him. He slid his finger out with a soft 'pop' and smirked at the flush creeping up Harry's cheeks.

"Stop doing what, exactly?" he asked coyly.

"Um, on second thought, do that again." Harry took a half step closer to him.

Draco raised the finger again, letting his tongue run along the length, eyes locked on Harry's which were glazing over - a sure sign of his arousal.

"Taste's a bit bland actually. Maybe this will help." He grabbed Harry's hand and dipped his thumb into the icing, then raised it to his own mouth and wrapped his tongue around it, drawing it deep inside.

Harry kept his eyes locked with Draco's, feeling a flush heat the back of his neck. He stifled the whimper that threatened to escape.

"Mmmmmm," Draco hummed, slowly pulling Harry's thumb from between his lips. "Much, much better."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should try a bit more." Harry ran his finger along the side of the cake and held it up to Draco's parted mouth, reveling in the sensation of teeth gently nipping the flesh as the blond sucked gently.

With Harry's finger still trapped between his teeth, Draco used his own to once again swipe at the chocolate confection and smeared it along Harry's collarbone. He watched a smile play at the corners of Harry's mouth, released his finger, and then Draco leaned in to nibble his collarbone.

"Draco,"

"Hmm?" he murmured into Harry's throat.

"I'm glad you like your cake."

"I. Love. This. Cake." Draco said between licks.

Harry untied the belt on Draco's bathrobe and let the fabric fall open, wrapping his arms around the bare and slightly chilled skin of Draco's back, his fingers trailing along his spine.

"You're cold."

"Not for long," Draco said softly, voice dripping with desire. "Come back to bed, Harry. Warm me up."

Draco ceased his assault on Harry's neck and moved to take his bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking and tasting the incredible combination of flavours that was Harry and chocolate.

"I suppose it would be cruel to refuse you, since it's your birthday." Harry tried to remain standing as Draco worked his way along his jaw, obviously heading to that sensitive spot behind his ear that Draco knew would make him shiver.

"Yes, yes it would. Cruel and unusual punishment," Draco said, stepping back and taking Harry's hands in his own, intent on leading him back towards the bedroom.

"Aren't you forgetting something, birthday boy?"

Draco gave an inquisitive look, and saw Harry's eyes move to the container of icing on the counter top.

"Well, well...this'll be a first," he smirked, releasing one of Harry's hands to grab at the icing.

"For icing - yes. Food in general - definitely not," Harry said, then smiled, "I think the watermelon was my favourite."

"No harm in trying to outdo ourselves, is there?" Draco raised his eyebrow, mischief written across his features, and turned, heading towards the doorway - Harry in one hand and chocolate fudge icing in the other.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday."

Draco swung round and, without warning, grabbed him the back of his neck, pulling Harry against his body and taking his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss that had him holding onto Draco for support.

"Thanks for the cake," he finally said, leaving them both a bit breathless.

"Draco. Bedroom. Now." Harry turned Draco around by his shoulders and prodded him in the direction of the hallway.

The cake was left, forgotten and mangled, on the kitchen counter.