“Lover.”
Harry snorts as Draco’s slender arms snake around his middle.
“Hi Bun.” Harry says, tilting his head for Draco to kiss his neck. “I’m making us eggs, does that suit you?”
“Mm.” Draco hums against Harry’s skin, sucking lightly before resting his pointy chin on Harry’s shoulder. “Sounds lovely. How are you feeling today?”
“Yeah, er… my chest is a bit achy. Ankle’s alright, though. Nose is fixed.”
Draco loosens his hold around Harry’s ribs, stroking up and down gently.
“How are you?” Harry asks before his boner distracts him entirely.
“I’m alright.” Draco says quietly. “Been better. Been worse.”
“Are you-” Harry begins, but is interrupted by a yawn. “-you tired?”
“I was awake until the sun rose.”
“I’m sorry, bunny.”
Draco sways them gently to music inside his head as Harry finishes cooking.
“What are we dancing to?” Harry asks with a smile.
“Not telling.” Draco says.
“Come on, I just made you eggs.”
“ No, you’ll laugh at me!” Draco protests, releasing Harry and summoning two plates from the cupboard. Harry serves the eggs. “Or be mad.”
“Why would I be mad about a song?”
Draco gives Harry a look, wrinkling his nose.
“You can’t think of a song I sang that you disliked?” He asks.
Harry can, and he scoffs.
“ Weasley is our king?”
Flushing pink, Draco turns to take forks from a drawer.
“It just gets stuck in my head sometimes. The tune. Not a lot of variety in wizarding music.”
“Tell me about it.” Harry says. “And I’m not mad.”
With a glance over his shoulder, Draco huffs.
“Maybe you should be.”
“It’s hard to be mad at you for petty things.” Harry murmurs, setting the pan in the sink. “It’s hard to be petty these days.”
Draco holds out a fork, and Harry wraps his fingers over Draco’s on the tines, using it to pull him in for a kiss.
“Oh damn it all.”
Harry jumps back as Vernon’s sour voice shatters the quiet. Suddenly, the warm light from the window feels harsh and stifling, the smell of freshly cooked eggs unappetizing.
Without a word, Harry takes his dish to the table, sitting intentionally in Vernon’s spot. Draco takes Dudley’s.
Though he’s usually up for a fight at any point in the day, Vernon seems reluctant to start anything this morning. Harry looks at Draco, who shrugs.
In fact, Harry’s just eating the last of his eggs before Vernon speaks again, prodding at his coffee maker.
“Are you going to wash that?” He asks, jerking his head at the sink.
“I was going to, yeah.” Harry says. “There are other pans you can use in the meantime.”
“I know what’s in my own kitchen.” Vernon snaps. Harry glares back.
