Day 21: Cooking/baking and shower sex
"What are you doing up?" Draco asked, yawning as he leaned against the doorway. He glanced at the clock over the Muggle oven and frowned at the witch standing in the middle of the destroyed kitchen, looking lost and bewildered. There were dirty dishes in the sink, a handful of flour on the counter, and a cracked egg dripped down the kitchen cabinet.
"I, uh, thought…I just wanted to bake a cake," Hermione muttered, her lower lip jutting out in a small pout. There was flour in her hair and on the corner of her lip.
"It's midnight." Draco stared at her, unimpressed. He valued his beauty sleep and tried not to melt at the sight of his witch looking as adorable as a baby Niffler.
Hermione scowled at him and crossed her arms. "So what?"
Draco groaned and walked over to her side. He tugged on her arms, but she refused to uncross them. Rolling his eyes, he waved his hand at the mess on the kitchen counter and asked, "Is this your idea of baking something? It's a terrible idea, mind you."
Hermione's chin quivered. Tears formed in her eyes, and she began to sniffle loudly.
Draco scrubbed his hand down his face and sighed. "If I help you with this cake of yours, will you please get back to bed and sleep like a normal human being?"
Her tears disappeared and her face lit up. "Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Who else would I do it for?" Draco grumbled, scowling at her. "Unfortunately, you are my wife."
Hermione didn't take offence to that. She only laughed at him and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Draco grunted, extracting himself from her Venomous-Tentacula-like grip. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to bake a chocolate cake. With chocolate sprinkles. And chocolate frosting. And chocolate chips. And chocolate—"
"Basically, you want to overdose on chocolate and kill yourself. Hurray for me," he deadpanned. "I'll have to find a replacement for you by morning."
She laughed and swatted his chest. "You won't find anyone like me, Draco."
Draco's gaze softened. That was true. And he didn't want to replace her with anyone anyway.
She was his witch, and he loved her in his own strange way. Sure, she annoyed him by waking up at random hours of the night for one reason or the other, irritated the hell out of him by leaving huge balls of her hair stuck in the shower drain, and mildly infuriated him by mixing her books with his. But then again, she did small things for him that no one else ever had. She always pulled his head down in her lap after a long, tiring day; she slept on top of him, her limbs entwined with his; she argued with him until one of them was proven wrong; she allowed him to treat her with expensive presents as long as she believed they were thoughtful.
And so, he admitted the truth. "You're so annoying, but I love you."
She beamed up at him and trod on his toes to kiss his jaw. "I love you too, you absolute menace. Now, help me with my cake."
"Fine." Draco sighed and got to work.
If there was one thing the great Hermione Granger was terrible at, it was cooking and baking. Although Draco had teased and taunted her for failing to follow simple instructions, he liked that he could do something for her. He liked baking little sweets and desserts for her; he delighted when her eyes would light up and her smile stretch over her face when she took the first bite of whatever he had baked for her. It gave him a manly sense of pride to provide for her—despite the fact that he was indulging in something his parents considered beneath them and feminine to boot.
His love for his witch was greater than any sense of embarrassment and humiliation, and so, he would bake the most chocolate-y cake in the history of chocolate-y cakes for her. Just for her.
Draco gathered the ingredients on the counter and slapped Hermione's hand away when she tried to pick up the eggs. She cried out, "Stop being so bloody violent!"
"Stop messing with my stuff," he grumbled, hip-checking her to the side. "Keep your hands to yourself and we won't have a problem. Clear?"
"Aye aye, captain," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corner as she smiled. "But I don't want to feel useless, so give me something to do."
"You can suck me off while I work."
She snorted. "Maybe later."
Draco stuck his tongue out at her, a bit annoyed that she hadn't jumped at the opportunity to give him a blowie. He would have fallen to his knees to pleasure her if she'd even hinted she wanted him.
He turned back to the ingredients and began adding them to a large bowl one by one. Glaring at Hermione out of the corner of his eye when she tried to pick up a whisk, he muttered, "Don't even think about it."
She sighed dramatically and slumped into her chair at the counter. She tapped her nails on the marble, humming a Muggle tune Draco wasn't familiar with. Resting her head on her forearms, she gazed at him through half-lidded eyes.
Draco mostly ignored her in favour of getting the cake over with. He whisked the dry and wet ingredients together as fast as his wrists allowed him, poured the batter in a small round pan, and shoved it into the oven. He was done in five minutes.
Once he had set the timer, he strode over to Hermione's side and picked her up bridal-style. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging on his hair gently. "What are you doing?"
"You're going to take a shower because I am not letting you in our bed until you're shining like a fucking diamond or some shit." He carried her towards the bathroom, kicked the door open, and stormed inside. He juggled her in his arms, making her giggle like a prepubescent girl, and turned on the shower. And then, he dropped her into the bathtub. Without hesitation, he climbed in with her.
She squealed and tried to pull away from the cold water streaming from the shower head, but Draco held her under it until she had gotten accustomed to the cold. She glared up at him, her brown curls plastered to her forehead. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, I cannot believe you just did that!"
"Shut up and close your eyes," Draco grumbled, picking up the shampoo bottle and pouring a large amount in his hand. When she had clenched her eyes shut, he ran his fingers through her hair, gently massaging the shampoo into her scalp.
She hummed, swaying on her feet under the cold water, and placed her head on his chest. Draco's shirt was plastered to his chest, and the water was ruining his perfectly tousled bedhead, but at least Hermione was happy.
He peeled her out of her shirt and trousers, chuckling under his breath when she whined at being forced away from his body heat. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her naked torso. He whispered, "So pretty."
"Why am I naked alone?" she demanded, tugging his shirt up as best as she could. When he didn't move, just because he wanted to tease her, she grunted and began yanking on his trousers instead.
He sniggered at her reaction but helped her get his clothes off. Once they were both naked, he picked her up and pressed her against the wall. The water streamed down his head, dripping onto her chest and sliding down his abdomen.
Draco's eyes followed the droplets of water trailing down her chin to her throat and then down to her breasts. He cleared his throat, his cock twitching under her arse, and said, "The cake will be done in thirty minutes."
"I bet you can't make me come twice in that time," she taunted, bringing his attention back to her wet mouth. It glistened under the dim bathroom lights, making his cock stand at attention. "Or can you?"
"Don't kid yourself," he drawled, already sliding his hand between her parted legs. "You know well enough that I've made you come thrice in less than half an hour."
"It must have slipped my mind," she cooed, her breasts bunched up against his chest. Her nipples were hard and cold, and Draco licked his lips at the thought of tasting them.
"Don't worry, I'll remind you," he murmured and captured her lips with his.
If she wanted him to prove himself, then that's just what he would do.
