JK Rowling owns the boys. I wish I did. (sigh) I only get to play with them from time to time.
"Harry, tell me again why we're keeping this cat over the holidays?" Draco asked, a grimace furrowing his brow, as he plucked another tuft of ginger-colored fur from the sofa.
Smiling, Harry picked up Crookshanks and cradled him to his chest, his fingers stroking the long, tangled fur of the Kneazle. "It's only for two more days. Hermione and Ron will be back from their trip and will pick him up on Boxing Day."
Draco tossed the last of the fur into the waste bin sitting inside the bathroom door. Turning, he glared at Harry, his hands upon his hips. "I still don't understand why she didn't take the bloody thing to the Weasel's while they were gone," Draco said, the glare softening into a smirk.
"Well, Hermione said that Crookshanks couldn't stand the hustle and bustle of the Weasley's house over Christmas. He's very old, you know," Harry replied, flinching as Crookshanks took a swipe at him, claws extended fully. And incontinent Harry's mind supplied.
"Or was it because the Weasel's mother would think she finally had a grandchild?" Draco muttered, his eyes widening at the red marks left on Harry's hand.
"What did you say?" Harry asked, rubbing absently at the burning lines scratched on his hand. Hermione had been right about one thing. Crookshanks never had mellowed with age. He was still a mean, spiteful creature, prone to little fits of rage. But one other thing had never changed either. Hermione still loved the blasted thing.
"Nothing Harry, nothing at all," Draco said, a mischievous grin playing around his lips. "Besides, they shouldn't have asked you."
"Let it go, Draco. It doesn't matter; we only have to keep him two more days. And then he's back home."
"It doesn't matter?" Draco fairly shrieked. "That ruddy thing shat in my shoes... my lovely Pradas. I'd just got them broken in, and they're ruined!"
Harry sat down on the sofa, the end nearest the fireplace. It was just like Draco to be upset over a pair of shoes. He just didn't get it. What was the big deal about Pradas?
"I told you I'd get you a new pair after Christmas," Harry said, almost sighing. He didn't want to have a spat with Draco the night before Christmas. Especially over Hermione's cat. Kneazle. Whatever.
Said ginger-haired creature was now peering intently through the branches of Harry and Draco's Christmas tree, his golden eyes glinting from the sparkling lights strung around the tree. A golden paw snaked out and batted at the candy cane hanging on the branch directly before him.
"Stop that, you hateful thing," Draco said, pulling the sweet off the branch in mid swing. He glared at the ball of fur hissing underneath the tree and flicked his finger at it.
"You know if you acted a little friendlier toward him, he might just be a little nicer to you," Harry said, laughing at the face Draco was pulling at the cat. Kneazle. Whatever. "Come on, sit down," Harry said, patting the sofa seat next to him. He definitely wanted some up close and personal time with Draco.
Draco gave the branches one last shake, and then plopped down beside Harry. He stretched his long legs out and then placed them on the coffee table, crossed at the ankle. Unwrapping the peppermint candy cane, he gave Harry a sappy grin. "You know," he said around a mouthful of candy, "I really love peppermint."
"Do you really? I would have figured you as a truffle man, myself. Or one of those gooey expensive desserts… Crepes something or other," Harry said, grinning at Draco's antics. But wait, hold the wand, his tongue was doing something wicked with that little striped sweet.
"Yes, I do. Mother would get so mad at me. She'd have the elves fix this elaborate chocolate crème dessert, and I'd get a candy cane off the tree and eat it. Not that she cared how much work she put the elves to, she just wanted to have her way," Draco said, twirling the candy cane by the hook around his finger.
A look of confusion crossed Harry's face. "I thought peppermint candy canes were a Muggle treat. How did you ever have them at the manor? Didn't your father pitch a fit?" Harry asked, his eyes entranced by the sight of Draco sliding the candy in and out of his mouth.
Draco hiccupped. A little smirk flitted over his lips before he covered them with his hand, the candy still between fingers. "I had to tell her that they were imported… and very expensive." He leaned over closer to Harry and gave him a conniving wink. "And it worked."
"You've been drinking," Harry said; he could smell it on his breath. Draco rarely drank when they went out; only a glass of wine or beer occasionally. This was very strange indeed, to see a drunken Malfoy, considering the control freaks that they were.
"Yesh, but I'm not drunk," Draco insisted. "I'm just pleasantly inebriated," he said, sliding the candy back into his mouth.
Harry watched the slow slide of the candy back out of his mouth, the stripes starting to blur from the sucking. Draco licked it, his tongue trailing up and down the thin red line, around and around, from the curve of the hook to the tip. He watched spellbound, and Draco bit the tip of it off, his teeth crunching the small bit to even smaller pieces.
"You know," Draco said conversationally, "Peppermint has been around since the ancient Egyptians, at least that when there was first recorded use of it." Draco stopped and stared at the peppermint stick and then sucked it into his mouth again.
Breathe Harry, breathe. The saliva was pooling in his mouth. Somewhere in Harry's lust clouded brain, he wondered if Draco knew what he was doing to him. That wicked tongue lapping around the red and white striped treat. Harry thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.
The slow, sensuous slide of Draco's tongue stopped. He pulled the candy from his mouth with a pop. Staring a bit owlishly at the sweet, he paused and licked the sticky from his thumb, and then pointed the spit-slickened sweet at Harry.
"Actually it has at least a hundred uses. Peppermint that is. Wizards use it in Life Change spells," Draco paused and gave the candy another lick before resuming his impromptu lecture. "Oh, and in sleep potions, too. The Muggles use it for all sorts of things, too. Back in the day, the Romans and Greeks crowned themselves with it at their feasts. The Muggles use it in tonics, as an antiseptic, an antispasmodic, for migraines, insomnia and… as an aphrodisiac."
Draco smirked and stuck the now white candy back into his mouth. He closed his eyes and slouched down into the sofa, his legs spread apart. Harry stopped breathing when Draco's hand slid down into his trousers, his mouth sucking the candy like a babe on a teat.
Oh yes, the little shit knew what he was doing to him. Harry stifled a moan as he watched Draco's hand moving up and down beneath his dark wool trousers. Oh bloody hell.
Lazily, Draco winked at Harry and sucked the rest of the candy in his mouth and crunched it between his teeth.
Leaning over, Harry pulled the blond into a deep kiss. The sweet, minty taste flavored the kiss, and Harry groaned deep in his throat at the mix of coolness on his tongue and the hotness of the kiss. Draco's sticky peppermint fingers were all over his face, the pre-cum dampened hand under his tee-shirt tracing a wet path up his chest. Running his tongue over Draco's teeth, Harry could feel the flecks of peppermint stuck there. Little sharp points kept the cool taste in Draco's mouth. Somewhere underneath it all, Harry could taste the schnapps he'd drunk, too. Probably peppermint, too.
Harry's hands were busy too. He'd managed to get the button undone, but was struggling with the zipper on Draco's trousers. The other was wrapped around Draco's shoulders, keeping him from escaping Harry's hungry kisses.
"I could just eat you up," Harry whispered between nipping at Draco's lush lips. He couldn't stop now. The hunger for the blond was consuming him, and Harry had been starved enough in his life; for both food and love. There was no way he'd deny himself now. Not when Draco was there for the taking. And wanting to be taken. Oh yes, he'd enticed Harry all night long.
Draco's fingers joined Harry's in pulling down the zip. "So, what's stopping you?" Draco asked, his fingers guiding Harry's head down. "I'd take you on anytime."
Laughing, Harry allowed Draco to push his head down. Not that he was resisting all that much anyway. He'd wanted a taste of Draco all evening.
Draco gasped as Harry took him in his mouth. "Harry," Draco said between little whining moans, "you are too bloody good at that." Draco's fingers entwined in Harry's raven hair. "Don't you dare stop!"
Harry smiled around his mouthful, his green eyes twinkling at he glanced up at Draco. Slowly, he worked the blond, his tongue tracing a crooked path up and down, stopping only to suckle the hardened length. He could taste the minty residue left behind by Draco's hand, and Harry lapped at the sticky spots. Harry winced; Draco had his hair in a death grip, his fingers pulling at Harry's messy thatch of hair.
One more lap and he'd have peppermint cream to swallow, and Harry traced his way back to the tip. Draco was nearly moaning now, his climax was imminent and Harry was ready. Harry paused at the weeping slit and lapped at it and started to stroke the shaft one more time, but something soft and yet firm pushed him down the shaft hard, and he gagged. Sharp points were digging into his head, and Harry jerked his head up roughly.
"What the…" Draco gasped.
"Bloody Hell," Harry finished. Crookshanks was standing half on Harry's head, half on Draco's stomach, his tail waving ominously about, the ginger brush slapping Harry in the face.
"Get off you bloody pervert!" Draco yelled, pushing the curious cat off of himself and Harry. But, it seemed like Crookshanks had other ideas. As Draco shoved, Crookshanks hooked his claws into the tender meat of his belly.
Draco let out an inarticulate cry and lunged for the half-Kneazle, knocking Harry completely off balance and onto his arse and into the coffee table. As fast as the ex-seekers reflexes were, Crookshanks was faster, and it was useless; the hissing cat dove under the tree and started worming his way up the branches, the ornaments scattering like leaves on the wind.
Shaking his fist at the quivering branches, Draco was a sight to behold; his usually perfect blond hair sticking out in all directions, his shirt rumpled, and his pants sliding down his slender hips. Harry couldn't hold in it any more, he snorted and choked back at laugh when Draco glared at him.
"The little bastard clawed me… he almost took off my bits!" Draco cried, pointing at the red marks across his groin perilously close to his cock. "I could have been ruined for life!"
"I think you're over-reacting," Harry said, the giggles starting. "Come on, let's finish what we started," Harry said, reaching for Draco, but his hands were slapped away.
"I don't think so," Draco sneered, grabbing his pants up, and stuffing himself in. "That's the last you've seen of me tonight, unless you get that… that vile, vicious creature out of here.
"Draco, please, be reasonable. What if I lock him in the spare bedroom?" Harry asked, his head starting to throb from the knock against the coffee table. "I can't put him outside… Hermione'd kill me."
"I don't care what you do, just keep it away from me," Draco said. He spun on his heel toward the bedroom, and swayed as the room spun around him. "I'm going to bed now, and," he said with a pleasantly inebriated leer over his shoulder at Harry, "if you want presents in the morning, you'd better keep that perverted fur-covered cat-tas-trophe out of my sight," he enunciated carefully.
Harry watched as Draco's droopily-trousered ass disappeared into their bedroom, the door shutting behind him. Looking around the room, Harry sighed. Garland had been strewn across the room; ornaments were smashed; the shards on the floor twinkling from the glow of the lights still on the tree. And Crookshanks. Crookshanks had wound himself around the branches of the Christmas tree and was baring his yellow fangs at him and snarling. Not to mention the hard on he had was stiff enough to hang stockings from. What a fucking mess this night had become.
Slowly, Harry picked himself up off the floor, smashing another ornament into smithereens in the process. Maybe Crookshanks would be alright in the guest room, but the real question was: Would their carpet survive?
"Here kitty, kitty," Harry said, preparing himself for the carnage to come.
The faint smell of peppermint woke Harry. The spicy sweet tang tickled his nose and he fought the urge to open his eyes. That damn cat had kept him up half the night. Not to mention the fact that he had to straighten up the living room. It was so nice and warm in bed.
"Harry," came the soft lazy drawl breaking into his half-awake thoughts.
Sleepily, Harry mumbled, "Go 'way." He was so deliciously warm and wet. Wet?
Oh Merlin in Hell, Harry thought, please, please tell me Crookshanks hadn't gotten out of the guest room. He'd never told Draco about the pee-ruined duvet. Surely not…
"Harry," came the voice, more insistent now. "Wake up, or no presents," Draco said in a sing-song voice.
Harry opened his eyes slowly, bringing his hands around to rub his eyes. Harry started. He couldn't move- his wrists were tied with red garland to the posts of the bed. "What…" he started to say, and then stopped. What was Malfoy doing perched over his legs, and why was he so wet, and where were his pajamas his sleep-fogged mind thought.
Shutting his mouth, Harry watched Draco dip one long, elegant finger into a small silver pot, and brought a dollop of red viscous goo out on his finger. He opened it again with a surprised squeak when Draco began to paint Harry's cock, the red body paint sliding down around his length as Draco traced a barber pole line around the semi-erect length.
"What are you doing?" Harry finally gasped out.
Draco looked up from his handiwork, the candy cane sticking out of his mouth, his lips pursed around it in concentration.
Smirking, Draco pulled the peppermint stick from his mouth and leered. "Why Harry," he said in mock innocence, "I told you I liked peppermint last night, and I can't think of a better way to have both of my favorite things at the same time."
Harry glanced around the bed and then back up at Draco. "So what's all that for?" Harry asked motioning his head toward the silver pots and different size peppermint barber poles laid out in neat rows where Draco's pillow should have been.
"Presents," Draco replied, a devious smirk quirking his lips, before he bent down and traced Harry's lips with his peppermint tainted tongue, then slipped it into Harry's mouth.
Draco was hot and sweet to the taste, and Harry's tongue met his in an urgent need to be suckled. No kiss had ever been this hot or made him so hard.
Harry felt the prick of the pointed end of the candy cane Draco still held follow a crooked line from the hollow of his throat to his belly button; the path marked by a cool spicy trail of wet peppermint. Reaching the indent, Draco snapped the brittle candy into tiny shards, leaving a little mound of peppermint in the moaning brunette's navel.
Harry groaned softly when Draco pulled away from their kiss, his tongue lapping the peppermint line with a long slow swipe alternating with short, quick laps until he reached the little pile of candy. His blue-silver eyes glinted with fiendish glee as Draco buried his tongue into the candy and swirled it about, his talented pink muscle pushing the sweet upwards and out.
Arching into the lapping tongue, Harry strained to push his painted length against Draco. The need to rut was driving him mad, and he pushed it against Draco's chin in his urgency.
"More candy for me?" Draco smirked, reaching for Harry's striped rod.
Harry hissed, a long drawn out sound of pleasure, as Draco licked him like the biggest peppermint stick ever. Straining against the red garland, Harry watched the long pink tongue elegantly swirl around him, sliding up the red stripe and back down the white one painted on his cock. Harry bit his lip when the blond suckled the weeping slit, his tongue delving into the wetness.
"Finish me off Draco," Harry panted, writhing under the blond's ministrations. Just a little more… just a little more, and…
Draco stopped, his hands sliding up Harry's chest, his lips slightly puffy, and red from the peppermint body paint. "Oh no, I have one more use for peppermint to show you," Draco grinned, his hand snaking across the covers toward the "presents."
Eyes widening, growing rounder with each passing moment as Draco's hand inched toward the silver pots and peppermint sticks, Harry held his breath, What was he going to choose? Harry sniggered when it stopped.
"You're not…" Harry started to stay.
"Oh yes I am," Draco smirked, his hand grasping the largest peppermint stick. "I think this will do nicely." Raising the candy to Harry's lips, he cocked an eyebrow. "Like a taste, Harry?" Draco asked, wiggling the fat candy before him.
Harry laughed and obeyed; his tongue licking at the top of the peppermint barber pole. Draco pushed the candy into Harry's mouth, a lewd smirk lighting his features. "Suck it, baby," he ordered.
Satisfied that Harry had imitated what he'd done to Harry only a few minutes ago, Draco pulled the candy out.
"Nicely done, Potter," Draco laughed, leaning down to kiss Harry. Harry's lips were stained red from the candy, his mouth full of the minty flavor, and the aroused man was sure of one thing now.
"You're twisted, you know that?" Harry sniggered, never taking his eyes off Draco and the candy.
"Why, that's a lovely idea," Draco said, taking a lick of the candy before scooting back down the bed. "Spread 'em Potter."
Before Harry could object, Draco pushed the wet peppermint stick against his entrance, the tingly essence spreading against the tight ring of muscle. Oh yes, a peppermint stick made the perfect sex toy.
Grinning, Draco gazed at Harry. He was so deliciously sexy, his messy black hair plastered around his face framed by the vanilla-white pillow, his mouth parted, a pink tongue brushing his bottom lip, the light sheen of sex induced sweat on his face and chest. This was Draco's Christmas present; to see his lover in this wanton state because of him.
Harry was so close; his coming orgasm was making him tremble. Draco felt the aroused quivering in Harry's legs and bent over and took Harry into his greedy mouth; the sweet minty flavor starting to mingle with the warm saltiness that was all Harry. Draco smirked around his treat and Harry came, his eyes shut tight, hands clenched around the garland, crying Draco's name.
Flopping down beside Harry, who was just now beginning to regain the ability to breathe, much less think, Draco ran his hands down his trembling lover's body, his long fingers sliding over the light caramel skin, soothing and calming the aftershocks still quivering through Harry. Ghosting his fingers over Harry's chest, he leaned over and ran his tongue around the shell of Harry's ear flicking it in and out of the small crevasses. Smiling at the tremble caused by his wicked tongue, Draco whispered in a low smug voice, "And later, I'm going to show you how much I adore chocolate."
Neither man heard the door open, the soft footfalls of a cat, Kneazle, whatever, padding across the carpeted floor. Crookshanks leapt up upon the dresser, his amber eyes flashing in the morning light, his little pug nose sniffing at all the odd scents in the room. Curiously, he watched from his perch as the two humans enjoyed their own brand of Christmas cheer. This was quite different from when the freckled one and the bushy-haired human went at it. Quite different, indeed.
Cocking a furry eyebrow, Crookshanks jumped off the dresser, his next mission was simple. Now, where did that pale one leave his shoes, the ones that smelled like Crème Brulee?
Merry Christmas Everybody!
Unedited version of this tryst can be found on either AFF or Skyehawke. Happy Reading!