Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~850
Content/Warnings: established relationship, frottage
Summary: They have eight minutes.
Author's Notes: This was the weirdest fucking reason, and so I just sort of...went with it? I have no clue if this is actually what the reason meant. Also, I have never in my life made a hardboiled egg, because I don't like them, so apologies if the vaguely mentioned timing or technique seems off. But really, if you're reading this fic for accurate egg-cooking techniques, I think that maybe you're missing the point. ;)
Thanks to capitu and fantasyfiend09 for looking this over for me! I played around with it a bit since, so all remaining mistakes are my own.
50 Reasons to Have Sex Masterlist
Read on AO3
Harry closed his eyes as he took a long swallow of tea, relishing the energising warmth as it slid down his throat. He wrapped his palms around the toasty mug, the heat seeping out into his skin. It wasn't a cold morning, but Harry hadn't bothered pulling on anything other than a pair of pants when he'd come downstairs. The hot beverage was a delicious counterpoint to the slight chill of the morning air against his exposed skin.
He hummed as he grabbed a pot from the rack and filled it with water, feeling perfectly at ease. It wasn't often that he had the time to enjoy his mornings, and the days when he didn't have to be at work until late were his favourite. He grabbed a few eggs, deciding that hardboiled eggs would be the perfect snack for later that afternoon. Normally, he was so rushed in the mornings that he forgot about food entirely and had to resort to loading up on sugary pastries that weren't good for his wallet or his waistline.
"You seem awfully chipper this morning."
Harry grinned over at Draco, who was lounging fully dressed against the opposite counter. "I don't need to go in today until eleven."
Draco smiled and prowled closer. "Well, aren't you lucky." His voice was a low purr, and Harry couldn't help his instinctive shiver at the tone. The one Draco usually reserved for sex.
"I like to think so," Harry said lightly, pretending he was entirely unaffected by the fact that Draco was just behind him now, close enough that he could feel the shimmer of heat radiating off Draco's body.
"Speaking of getting lucky…" Draco trailed off, his nose running up the side of Harry's throat, followed by his lips. Harry's breath caught, his hand shaking as he lowered the eggs into the simmering pot of water.
"I'm—I'm trying to cook here."
"We'll be quick," Draco murmured against Harry's ear. His entire body was plastered along Harry's back, the hard line of his erection rubbing against Harry's arse. "I've got to get to work soon anyways."
Harry cast a timer spell. "Alright, you've got eight minutes."
Draco huffed a satisfied chuckle against the nape of Harry's neck. "Bet I can make you come in five."
Harry spun around in Draco's arms, pushing him back against the opposite wall and pressing his lips fervently against Draco's. Draco caught on quickly, wrapping his arms around Harry and kissing him back with equal intensity. Harry rolled his hips against Draco's, relishing in the delicious friction, even through several layers of cloth. Pressed all along Draco's front, Harry couldn't help but notice how naked he was in comparison to Draco's put-together form. The disparity was oddly arousing.
Draco seemed to think so, too. He bucked against Harry eagerly as his hands roamed over Harry's naked back. They trailed down to his pants and tugged the fabric down past his bum, exposing Harry's arse to the cool air.
Draco's fingers slid down his crack, dry fingertips rubbing teasingly at his hole. Harry felt a momentary flash of disappointment that they didn't have longer; he wouldn't have minded a good hard shag against the kitchen wall. This was still good though: the steady throb of their bodies rocking together, the hot press of lips, and the dry, shivery, drag of Draco's fingertips rubbing and pressing at his entrance.
Harry nipped at Draco's lower lip, rocking his groin harder into Draco and pressing his arse back into Draco's warm hands. He felt flush with desire. Something about this moment seemed decadent and hedonistic, like Harry was some some silly little pet earning his keep by giving Draco an enthusiastic send-off before he left for work. It was nothing at all like reality, but the thought of it tangled hot and tight in his belly.
Draco's finger pressed a little more firmly against his hole, the very tip pushing inside. The dry tug of it, the barest hint of a stretch, sent Harry over the edge. He moaned into Draco's mouth as he came, shivering in Draco's arms as he continued rocking against him. Draco groaned, his hands moving to grip Harry's hips and pull him in for a hard, filthy grind that had Draco gasping his release.
Harry leaned forward onto Draco, letting their breath mingle as their heartbeats slowed. Draco slid his wand out of his pocket and, with a flick, cleaned the both of them off. Being a wizard really was incredibly convenient.
He captured Draco's lips again, enjoying the slower, self-satisfied slide of the post-orgasm snog. They kissed until Harry's wand began vibrating on the countertop, letting him know the eight minutes were up. Draco pecked his lips one last time and pushed Harry away toward the stove.
"I told you I wouldn't need the full eight minutes to make you come," Draco said, as he walked out the door towards the living room. "I'll see you tonight." A moment later, Harry heard the familiar whoosh of flame as Draco's voice called out for his potion's lab.
Harry grinned as he fished the eggs out of the pot and contemplated how best to spend the next few hours before he had to go into work himself .
Late mornings really were his favourite.