Author's Note: I declared a prompt war against Dysonrules on LJ, also known as Cheryl Dyson on (see my favourite authors for her account). This is called the Le Obscure Prompt war. This is my story to round one; you can view her corresponding story at her account
Words: 1093
Summary: Written for Le Obscure Prompt War, Round One, to the following prompts: Gingerbread, baskets, ice and horses
37 Days Later
Harry was a bit of a romantic. Draco didn't hold it against him because it meant that doing 'spontaneously sappy surprises' got him brownie points and with any luck, an hour and a half worth of tongue action.
However, reality had it that these spontaneous surprises were not so spontaneous after all. Draco planned a new romantic gesture in advance to occur every thirty seven days. Thirty seven was a good, nice number that was small enough to make Draco appear an attentive boyfriend, and a big enough number to create a nice inconspicuous gap between his romantic exploits to make him appear as 'spontaneous' as he wasn't.
Today the kitchen calendar proudly prompted that Draco had to pay homage to his mother's birthday. Little did Harry know when he left for work that Narcissa Malfoy had been twenty two for the last three decades and claimed Immaculate Conception to avoid any surprise birthday parties.
Draco had been preparing for his 'mother's birthday' for the last five days and when he woke up to find the bed empty and a wild gale beating against the window that was only typical to bloody England, he knew all his careful preparation went down the plughole.
He stood at the large lead-paned windows and watched the wind sway the tree tops till they bent to the floor, made the house groan and women's skirts blow up by their waists as they waded through the streets. Draco watched the weather with a note of frustration, and Mother Nature didn't seem pleased with his petulance. The clouds opened and the heavens wept upon the world. Draco growled. Damn rain.
Accepting the gauntlet, Draco turned his back on the dismal weather and went into his walk-in wardrobe. Harry never ventured in there because he seemed to have a phobia against good fashion. Reaching to the top shelf, nestled between his colour-coded folded ties and coiled belts, Draco pulled out a wicker hamper basket.
As careful as he was trying to be, the shelf was very high and he…wasn't. So, as he pulled the basket from it's hidey-hole, it caught a couple of belts and ties which rained down upon his carefully styles just-fucked coif. Placing the basket on the floor, Draco plucked a belt from his head. The buckle was a brass horse, caught in stationary as it bucked it's rider odd, and it was accompanied by the printed motto 'Bareback Baby!' along the length. Draco chuckled and threaded it through his belt loops.
xxx
Ellen fancied him. Harry may be oblivious but he was certainly not blind, and as she offered him the extra chair at the office conference dinner for later that night, Harry felt weary.
Smiling, he replied as politely as possible, "Erm…no thank you. Draco has got his mother's birthday today and he'll need someone to punch when he gets home. Sorry."
Quickly employing the snatch-and-run technique back to his office, Harry cursed under his breath as each long stride made hot liquid slop over the rim of his cup and douse his fingers with the brilliant life-juice that was coffee. Ellen was shouting something from behind him but her words were cut off as he slid into his office and slammed the door closed. Harry would have sighed in relief at the narrow escape but a squeak of surprise was the only thing that escaped as he took in the scene before him.
His desk and chairs, filing cabinet and small sofa had been pushed back against the walls. The floor space in the middle of the room was taken up by a large blanket with its flurry fibres charmed as fresh grass, and spread across the patch of greenery, next to a large basket was Draco. Munching on a gingerbread man that was wiggling its arms and legs agonisingly until Draco pressed his pearly white teeth into the side of its head.
"Picnic?" suggested Draco, tilting his head to the basket. Harry didn't say anything because he had just spied the words printed around Draco's hips.
xxx
"Hurry, Harry!" cried Draco, wiggling him bum into the air impatiently. Harry smiled, leaning over Draco's sweat slicked back and reaching into the basket. Plates, cheese sandwiches, oranges…candy floss and marmite sandwiches…chocolate frogs and, aha! Harry pulled a large pitched of pumpkin juice out and placed it on the grass next to them. Dipping twp fingers into the juice, he fished about and drew an ice cube up from the side of the glass.
Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry sucking the excess pumpkin juice off a block of frozen water. With a little groan, he buried his face back into the lawn and waited.
"AAARGHEEE! FUCK, THAT'S COLD!"
xxx
"Ssh!" hissed Harry, slapping a hand over his boyfriend's mouth.
"Harry? Harry?"
"Yes, Ellen?" The door handle rattled and there was a thud against the door, then Ellen said through the door.
"Erm…I just wanted to tell you that Kingsley has called a meeting at three."
"Okay!" called Harry, wishing Ellen would go away because Draco was biting the web between his thumb and forefinger. Ellen's shadow shifted about under the doorframe and then disappeared. Harry waited just a moment to check she had really gone before prising his hand from between Draco's teeth.
"You total brute! Why not just put a collar on me and buy me a ball gag, and - DOTHATHARDER!YES!"
xxx
"Loop the loop, and through the hoop, that's how Malfoy's enslave them," sang Draco as he knotted the tie around his neck. Harry could only smile from the blanket, it was terribly cute and terribly tyrannical.
Draco finished tying the tie and pulled it up over his head. He waltzed over to Harry with a sway of his hips. Slipping the tie over Harry's head and yanking it taunt around his neck, he patted the tapered ends against Harry's stomach. Harry's felt finger nails scratch his abs briefly through the gaps of his buttons.
Harry grinned back at Draco as he winked and closed the door behind him. The room was quiet and hot and the odour of sex would linger for hours, leading his mind to wonder unproductively for the rest of the day. Soaking up the atmosphere for a moment, Harry then pulled open the top drawer of his desk. Pulling out a little black calendar, Harry began to flick through the pages, counting out thirty seven days until his next romantic surprise, a small smile on his face.
Fin.