(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.

Thank you all for the favorites, follows and reviews. My apologies for the long wait. This is the final chapter, though, so thank you all for reading along!

Warnings: MalexMale slash. Language. Mild stuffing/feeding kink.

Enjoy! :))


"What's all this then?" Draco asks, looking around the room as he carefully folds his robe over the back of a chair, smoothing the fabric down with an absent move before moving further into the room.

Harry, James, Narcissa and Natalie are sitting at a small child-sized table placed right in their sitting room. Draco eyes the silver tray with a warm feeling of amusement; there's a full, proper tea service where his daughter's plastic set normally sits. He's not sure what to make of his mother bringing over one of the finer sets of a silver service for a what appears to be a child's tea party, but he's immeasurably pleased she's done so. Natalie looks thrilled to be using a proper cup and not one of her plastic ones, her chubby pinkie extended delicately.

And there are cakes. Plates and platters, trays and a multi-tiered cake stand full of different assortments, sizes, flavors. Trifles, cupcakes, petite fours. It's a wonder the small table isn't trembling under the weight of them all, honestly. He nearly rolls his eyes at his mother's knack for a posh tea at any location.

Draco makes his way over towards his husband, cupping his face and giving him a quick kiss when Harry looks up and presents his lips. He's tempted to linger (it's been a bit since he's given Harry a proper kiss, after all), but they've an audience and he knows Harry gets self-conscious if—well, when—he gets carried away. As expected, James makes an 'ew' face, complete with disgusted noises. But Natalie shrieks with glee and demands a kiss of her own. Draco is only too pleased to oblige, smacking a loud one on her still-chubby cheek. He sneaks a kiss to the top of James' messy head before his son can duck away.

He'd be offended but he remembers being just as averse to affection or kissing of any sort (especially parental kissing) at that age, so he doesn't take the disgusted sounds, grimacing or attempts of wiping his kiss off personally. Well... Not as personally. He'll still do it and James will just have to suck it up.

"Tea," Harry says, smiling. He takes another small piece of cake and cuts Draco a large helping. He looks up when Natalie squeals happily, smashing her cake with a chubby fist and eating it off her palms and from between her fingers. She makes an inquiring noise and offers some to her brother.

Draco hides a smile when James rolls his eyes but takes a mangled piece offered by his sister. He's secretly touched she's willing to share—she's a notorious sweets hog.

"Darling," Narcissa greets her son, tilting her head for a cheek kiss. "Just in time." She sets another place for Draco at the small table, smiling behind her hand when Draco doesn't hesitate to fold himself into the small seat and place another round of loud smacking kisses on each of his children's pudgy cheeks before sitting. She's impressed he's managed to get James before the little boy can duck away again.

Draco eyes the large slab of cake on his plate for a moment before looking at Harry with a contemplative expression. "All for me?" Harry nods before going back to speaking with his mother about Holiday plans and picking absently at his own, much smaller, piece. He considers the large piece of cake for a few more moments before cutting into it with the side of his fork and taking a small bite.

It's chocolate, one of his favorites. And heavily iced with ganash and fudge. Fantastic. He accepts a cup of tea from his daughter, smiling proudly as she beams up at him after (mostly) successfully pouring it herself. He's not sure who vanishes the drips away—his mother or Harry—but Natalie looks fit to burst with pride at her accomplishment. He enjoys his cake, sneaking his hand under the table to rest along Harry's knee, and just enjoys his cake as he mostly listens as his family talks around him.

As far as he's concerned, it's the perfect ending to a stressful day.

...

"Are you really alright with leaving our children with my parents?" Draco asks, putting the last of the cakes away. As handy as Harry's weird Muggle plastic bowls are, he prefers a well placed preservation charm. The icing never gets all crystalline or the cake all dried out that way. He licks some icing off his thumb and heads back out towards Harry, holding nearly a half a cake.

Harry looks over the back of the chaise at Draco and nods. He wouldn't have thought so a year ago, but the elder Malfoys have wormed into his heart and have shown themselves to be devoted grandparents. Stereotypical, even; doting on their children and lavishing them with gifts of all sorts. Even Lucius, in his own subdued way. He's really OK with it.

"Yes," he finally answers aloud, since Draco is preoccupied with fiddling about with a huge, gooey slice of cake and didn't see him nodding. He chuckles under his breath and strokes a hand along Draco's thigh once his husband sits next to him. "Are you really going to sit there worrying or are we going to make the best of an empty house?"

Draco pauses for a moment, considering the too-quiet of the house that reminds him his children are with his parents until the next afternoon. It's not all that difficult to come up with an answer. He's quick to put the plate on the coffee table and push Harry back on the chaise, rolling over him once he's got Harry on his back. A happy little thrill shoots through him when Harry goes easily, shifting to make room for him between his legs and smiling up at him warmly. He leans down, briefly kissing his husband, humming against his lips before drawing away so he can slowly strip Harry. They should probably move elsewhere, upstairs to their bed like the adults they are, but he can't think past seeing Harry naked right now. He urges Harry up just enough to get his shirt off, tossing it carelessly and making the effort of marking each bit of exposed soft skin with a kiss, a gentle nip or a lick.

He fiddles with Harry's flies as he moves down Harry's chest slowly to mouth at Harry's belly, groaning softly with pleasure. He pushes Harry's trousers open and down enough so he can slide his his hands down Harry's sides, nudging stiff fabric down and off until he can get to fleshy thighs, fingers digging into the softness rhythmically, enjoying the soft give under his fingertips and palms. He's no less affected by it than the first time and he's fully hard and this close to just rutting shamelessly against Harry's ample thighs like a horny crup and calling it a good first go.

With a bit of an effort, he pulls back. They've got ages; no sense in rushing. He yanks off Harry's trousers and pants the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly to the side.

"Fuck, I love your body," Draco murmurs just before burying his face in Harry's stomach again. He spends a few happy moments there, kissing, mouthing and licking around Harry's navel and softness before making his way downwards. He's quick to bypass Harry's growing arousal and skips to his favorite part: his face between Harry's thighs. He urges them apart just a bit and noses the soft skin of Harry's inner thigh, smirking a little to himself when he hears the sharply in-drawn breath exhaled as a shaky moan when he peppers kisses all down Harry's sensitive skin down to the back of his knee.

They share a laugh when Harry twitches, a surprised giggle coming out of him at the sensation. The laugh turns into a soft moan when Draco switches to the other leg, nipping and mouthing the other side, the barest hint of stubble rasping along the sensitive area. His murmured "gorgeous" is a bit muffled with skin because he really doesn't want to stop what he's doing, but he knows Harry hears him.

Harry just buries his hands in Draco's hair, long used to his husbands quirks and words of praise, and just hums softly in response. He spreads his legs with a soft sound of pleasure, making room for Draco to lay comfortably when he shifts closer, further into the V of Harry's thighs. Warm, open mouth kisses trail up along his lower belly, across his hips and back down his inner thighs.

He gets comfortable, recognizing a Draco in the mood to take his time. As much as he'd rather Draco just get on with it, it's been too long since they've been able to do much than a hurried wank or blowjob in the shower, but the slow build is very nice. His eyes close on a breathy moan when Draco's hands slide under his body and gently knead at his arse, lifting just a little to tip his hips upwards. He can feel Draco's gaze on him and he feels a flush of heat work through his body; part arousal, part self-conscious embarrassment he has yet to overcome.

Draco nuzzles the pudge under Harry's navel, murmuring endearments as he nuzzles and kisses along a fine scar. He loves that scar, and it's one of the few Harry shows pride for, doesn't mind him looking at and touching. He can feel Harry's arousal against his cheek; insistent soft warmth tempting him to just move a few centimeters to the left... But it's been awhile since they can take their time, so he's not going to rush. Not just yet. Harry must be thinking the same because his husband isn't making any effort to move things along, he just lays back, apparently content to just enjoy whatever Draco does to him.

He trails kisses all over, indulging himself in the enjoyment of Harry's body, saying sweet things and adoring the figure that gave him two beautiful, perfect children. He can practically feel Harry rolling his eyes but it's true. He loves the softness, even if Harry still tries to get rid of it. His husband is otherwise healthy and sexy as fuck—what's not to love? He mouths at the soft padding along Harry's hips, fingers digging into the ample give on the other hip. He groans softly, rutting gently against Harry's thigh as his arousal builds with each touch and caress.

Draco strips himself with a muttered spell, now too impatient to let Harry have his turn and take his time with the rest of his clothes. He pulls on Harry's legs until he's got Harry in his lap, those lovely fleshy thighs spread wantonly on either side of his own. He palms Harry's lovely, ample arse and groans softly, eyes fluttering closed. Merlin, how was he expected to last more than 2 minutes against that?

He pauses for a moment, thinking. He glances at the plate of cake on the table. He'd nearly forgotten about it. A flick of his wand has it gently floating over, settling on the soft seat of the chaise next to them. It's not until the plate settles, the cool porcelain against his calf, does Harry finally open his eyes. Harry looks down for a moment before glancing back to at a roguishly grinning Draco.

Harry's eyes dart back to the large slab of cake and Draco wants to purr but settles for raising his eyebrows pointedly, body hot and thrumming with anticipation. "Hungry?" Draco asks, grabbing the plate and balancing it between their bodies.

"What?"

Draco nearly rolls his eyes and carefully breaks a chunk of cake off with his fingers, not even caring about the icing getting all on his fingers. Harry will clean them off. "Cake, love?" he offers, touching the cake to Harry's mouth. Which instinctively opens, accepting the cake with a gentle lick and brief suction against his fingers as Harry takes the bit into his mouth.

He can't help it, he groans softly as he watches Harry's tongue dart out to catch crumbs and lick away a stray smear of icing. He never dreamed Harry would let him do this. Merlin, how he's wanted to... And it's even better than simply watching Harry do it himself. Draco is quick to break off another piece, offering it before Harry's mouth is clear enough to ask questions or make refusals. By the third piece, the slight crinkle on Harry's forehead is gone, smoothed out with pleasure and he's chewing happily, eyes heavily lidded, content to just let Draco feed him.

Draco's fingers encounter porcelain and he pouts. "Bugger. All gone." He ignores Harry's incredulous laugh and summons another plate, catching it deftly before it lands anywhere near Harry's hands. He's quick to banish the preservation charm, tear off a chunk and press it to Harry's mouth. Harry's lips remain closed, though. He grins, feeling triumphant as he looks at what he's managed to catch. "C'mon, love. It's treacle tart." He wriggles the tart against Harry's lips, practically vibrating with expectation and excitement for the moment Harry stops being stubborn and opens up. It's still Harry's favorite and he can't imagine a refusal.

"I'm aware of that," Harry mumbles around the dessert. He sits up a bit more, easing around the tart against his mouth and looks at Draco for a moment. "What if I'm full?" Draco's eyebrow pops up; the picture of a man not buying it but the dessert pulls away and he knows that Draco would leave it alone if that were the case. "Okay," Harry concedes with a chuckle, settling back down to where he was. He eyes the tart, carefully held so it's not squished but tight enough it won't fall. It looks delicious and he licks his lips, staring at it for a long moment before meeting Draco's eyes. He licks his lips, tasting treacle and buttery crust crumbs. "What if I don't want more?"

Draco eyes Harry carefully. He knows that's not the issue but he also knows better than to push. He shrugs and offers a smile, "Then I'll put it away," he says sincerely. He waits, though, keeping his hand right where it is; patiently waiting for Harry's verdict. As much as he's enjoying himself, he will not force the issue. Besides, if Harry's too full to move, he can't exactly shag him senseless now can he? He doesn't have to wait long before Harry's leaning up just enough to get his mouth wrapped around his fingers again, sticky tart filling and crumbly crust licked from between them.

With exquisite attention to detail and thoroughness.

"Fuck it," Draco mutters, practically tossing the plate to the table before leaning down to kiss Harry just as thoroughly. His fingers tickle through soft dark hair, his thumbs sweeping along the corners of Harry's mouth, pressing in lightly to tempt Harry's mouth open and deepens the kiss. He licks inside with a hum. He's never particularity cared for treacle tart, but he might be changing his mind because mixed with Harry it tastes absolutely delectable. He pulls away with a nip to Harry's full bottom lip, wiggling his eyebrows lewdly. "More?"

Harry nods and watches Draco retrieve the plate once more. He's unaccountably excited as he watches Draco break another piece off and offer it. Maybe it's the care with which Draco does it, his complete and utter attention focused on Harry as he feeds him, darkened eyes watching his mouth intently as the takes the bite and chews. Maybe it's his husbands complete lack of decorum and using his fingers. Either way, he's never had a better treacle tart.

By the time the plate is empty again, Draco is shamelessly pressed against him and using his spare hand to stroke along any part of his body Draco can reach, settling frequently on his arse and hips. Draco sets the plate down and as soon as both hands are empty, he's got both hands sliding up and massaging his belly. Harry squirms a little, the sensation oddly arousing and calming at the same time. He's not all that full but it still feels brilliant.

Another piece of cake is pressed to his mouth and he opens willingly, not even opening his eyes as he hums happily through a mouthful of moist vanilla-orange cake. Draco's hands smooth along his hips and down his thighs again, a slow sensuous slide as a low rumble of pleasure makes the air between them practically hum as Draco feeds him another piece. Icing sticks on his lips and Draco licks it away before he can.

Harry cracks one eye open and grins, "If you wanted some, just say so—no need to swipe mine, love."

Draco chuckles and pops another bit of cake in Harry's mouth, effectively silencing the cheeky bastard. He chases that last bite with another kiss, his grin nearly breaking the kiss when Harry makes a hungry little sound and grabs at him, yanking him closer. He breaks off with a pant when Harry starts wriggling in his lap, their erections brushing and sliding wetly. "Fuck," he breathes out, fingers digging into Harry's arse cheeks as he arches back against Harry's movements. "Just like this," he pants out, half asking, half telling.

Harry nods frantically, moaning softly through bitten lips as his hips jerk with each pass of Draco's hand up his prick. Draco's teeth on his collarbone and a muffled reminder they're alone has him unclamping his teeth from his lip and moaning unabashedly, head tilting back.

It takes a few tries, and a few deep breathes, before Draco can concentrate long enough to conjure some lube and slides a hand down between Harry's cheeks, feeling too-warm all over when Harry sighs with pleasure and arches his back into his touch, fingers digging into his shoulders. It's a tease, though; he's too worked up to do anything but tip Harry backwards so Draco can rut against the soft fleshy crevice between Harry's hip and thigh for a moment before shifting just enough he can slide a hand down and wrap his fingers around his and Harry's erections.

Harry's fingers dig into Draco's back, hips moving in time with his hand, and his knees pin Draco in close. Their kisses messy and uncoordinated with desperation and so close. The moment Harry comes, head back with a moan, Draco licks up his neck, nipping his icing smeared chin and mouth, following with a grunted moan.

Harry ignores Draco's mumbled, half-hearted protests about cleaning up or moving, just smooths his hands down Draco's back and squeezes his arse briefly. Enjoying the moment, even if they're smooshed on the chaise. As if he wanted to be anywhere else.