If there was one thing from the muggle world Draco had grown accustomed to, it was peppermint. Of course, the Wizarding world had peppermint but they didn't have so many uses for it, and they especially didn't drink it as a tea.
That is, everyone but Draco. Didn't drink Peppermint tea. Ever since he had discovered the concoction –Hermione had brought it over when Draco had been complaining about a stomach ache that didn't go away even after both Wizard and Muggle remedies- he and the drink had been inseparable. Harry wasn't even sure he could function without a tea at breakfast- it used to be coffee, Harry remembers-. Harry could also be certain that he wasn't the one who had finished his minty toothpaste or the one who had bought peppermint massage oil.
All in all; Draco was addicted to peppermint. It wasn't a bad thing. Harry loved the smell of mint- fresh, cold, biting- and he loved Draco so it was a nice combination. Everything from his breath to his hair smelled like mint, and Harry guessed the only downfall was that he was forever picking up once used empty tea cups and mugs, strewn over the cottage. Draco had this pet peeve that involved annoying Harry as much as he could and he did very well by littering the house with cups he'd drunk from then left, and gone off in search for a new cup to drink from.
The little shit.(Harry didn't really mind that much.) "Draco? You home?" Harry asked as he stepped over the threshold and hung up his coat, shutting the front door behind him.
"In here," came a call from the sitting room. Harry dropped his keys into the bowl on the stand next to the door and toed off his shoes, trudging in. Draco was stretched out on the sofa, facing the window that looked out onto their neighbors' fields, book in hand. The soft pale blue t-shirt he wore highlighted his hair and his grey eyes when they glanced up and took in Harry's tired form before darting back down at the book in his hands. The white cotton trousers that clung to Draco's long slender legs just made him look all the more elegant and Harry cheerfully noted he was wearing a pair of Harry's mismatched socks.
"How was your day?" Draco asked, not looking up from his book. Harry sat down next to him, pulling his legs into his lap.
"Long and tiring. These 5TH years are working me to the bone. I'm grateful I only go every two weeks now as opposed to every two days." He sighed, running one hand through his hair, the other still resting on Draco's shin.
"Hmm." Draco hummed, raising an eyebrow.
"And how was your day? Anyone come by?" It was Harry's turn to ask, and Draco put his book down, instead reaching for his cup resting on the coffee table. He took a few small sips before putting it back down next to his book and stretching.
"It was nice." Draco said as he stretched. Harry waited for an elaboration and got none-he obviously felt no need to elaborate-. No surprise.
"What did you do?" Harry's hand moved up and down in a caressing motion and Draco smiled at him.
"Not much. Had a sleep in, got up at 11, had something to eat, opened the shop and when no one showed I closed and moved here." He tilted his head, resting against the arm rest and he yawned lightly. For someone who had spent their whole day doing near to nothing he had managed to tire himself out. Just another one of Draco's amazing traits Harry was in awe with.
Draco sighed, reaching out to touch the cup. He ran his finger around the rim and blinked sleepily. Was he really planning on dozing off?
"I can smell the mint from here." Harry commented and Draco chuckled, sitting up and leaning forward.
"You can have a taste if you like," He murmured, his minty breath washing over Harry's face. From this close proximity Harry could make out Draco's smattering of pale freckles that almost danced over his nose in the sunlight, as well as the freckles of blue in his soft grey eyes. Harry's hand lifted from Draco's leg and slid a hand through his soft silvery blond hair, his fingertips grazing his scalp. Draco smiled and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.
"Don't mind if I do," Harry murmured, touching his lips to Draco's gently.
Draco tasted of peppermint, that was a given. He also tasted of Draco and with every move of his lips another rush of memories clouded Harry's senses. The position was awkward; it was a stretch for Draco with his legs still draped over Harry's but Draco then bent his knees and sat up more, moving to sit between Harry's open legs.
"Why do you even like Peppermint so much?" Harry asked between kisses, his voice a whisper against Draco's mouth.
"My mum used to make me wild strawberries and mint with powdered sugar on a summers eve. I think that's where it stems from-" Draco cuts himself off by kissing Harry again, only to pull away when Harry snorted a laugh.
"What?" Draco tilted his head, smiling at Harry. Harry looked at him and chuckled.
"I just had a vision of a 14-15 year old you with a mouth red from strawberries."
"I was much younger! At least 7, 10 at the oldest!"
"Are you just listing those ages because I didn't know you then- and didn't know what you looked like?"
"Now you're just being ridiculous."
"That's my middle name, Harry Ridiculous Potter."
"Wasn't it James?" Draco said, scoffing. Harry kissed the corner of Draco's mouth and raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"I don't see what's so funny with the name 'James'- especially since yours is Abraxas-"
"Shutup, just shutup. My dad has a thing for old people names."
"A fetish, eh?" Harry chuckled and Draco groaned, resting his head on Harry's shoulder.
"For fucks sake, Harry. Had to ruin the mood, didn't you?"
"I'm not too bothered if I'm honest, I didn't have the energy."
"I could have seen to that." Draco murmured against his robes pitifully and Harry laughed.
"I'll hold you to that." Harry ran a hand through Draco's hair and Draco shifted and lay down, his head in Harry's lap. Harry continued to play with Draco's hair.
"You want to go out later?" Harry asked after a moment of quiet. Draco turned and looked over to the window, were the sun, albeit still shining, had begun to set.
"To where?"
Harry shrugged, his fingers moving down Draco's neck and massaging. He heard Draco huff a sigh and he smiled. "I don't know. We could go to that Bistro you like."
There was a moment of silence again as they both just relaxed, Harry's fingers sifting through Draco's hair and Draco breathing lightly.
The nice moment was broken as the cockerel crowed loudly, right by the window, and made Draco and Harry jump.
"Why don't we just eat the fucking cockerel." Draco grumbled and Harry laughed.
"You going to cook it? Cockerel meat is tough as old boots."
"Well, sorry for not knowing. Sheltered child hood, remember?"
"That's no excuse- I ate cockerel at Mrs. Weasley's home."
"Mrs. Weasley huh? There's not much to say to that, then." Draco snorted, yelping when Harry thumped him.