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Assistant: Title: Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too
        Author: peachpety peachpety 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: Harry Potter loves his birthday… until he doesn’t. All it takes is a miserable slice of jealousy, sprinkled with an unfortunate slip of the tongue, and doused with a heavy dollop of pining to turn Harry sour. Fortunately for him, Draco Malfoy is there to sweeten the day.
        Contents: Summary:
            
              Harry Potter loves his birthday… until he doesn’t. All it takes is a miserable slice of jealousy, sprinkled with an unfortunate slip of the tongue, and doused with a heavy dollop of pining to turn Harry sour. Fortunately for him, Draco Malfoy is there to sweeten the day.
            
        

        
  Notes:

    
      For milkandhoney.



    

    
      Happy Birthday to my sweet Lynn! I am so blessed to claim you as a friend. You are funny and witty and so very kind - a treasure, both to me and to fandom. Our friendship I hold most dear. Know this, sweetness, when I count my blessings I count you twice.This work is a prequel to my 2020 Fluff Fest Drarry IKEA fic, Some Assembly Required. Lynn, you asked me in the comments to tell you about this specific birthday, and so, here it is, for you! The BJ that started it all! Happy Birthday! BIG LOVE, ALL THE LOVE, LOVES! A big thanks to space_wingding for the astute beta. As usual, your no-nonsense guidance suits me perfectly and is exactly what I need. and hugs to vina_writes for the encouragement! xoEnjoy! xoxo peach
    

    (See the end of the work for more notes.)



  





    
        
          
  
 Harry Potter loves his birthday.He hasn’t always. As a kid, he hated it. Growing up, the Dursleys had often been horrible—well, they had always been horrible—but they reserved the last day of July for a particularly nasty brand of viciousness.And then, of course, Harry’s teen years had been plagued by Voldemort repeatedly rearing his ugly head and throwing a pall on...everything. After Voldemort’s defeat, Harry was simply thankful to be celebrating his birthday at all.And celebrate he did.In retrospect, maybe too much. Harry’s 19th birthday, orchestrated by the Weasley brothers, can never be discussed—the Gryffindor lads all forged an Unbreakable Vow. A small rash blooms on Harry’s elbows if he even thinks about that weekend.Harry’s 20th birthday merited interference by Junior Deputy Minister-in-Training Granger. Hermione had not been pleased. Neither had Neville. The Aurors confiscated Harry’s birthday gift—a cannabis-gillyweed hybrid Neville had spent the entire year cultivating in the Longbottom greenhouses.By Harry’s next birthday, the Ministry had proclaimed his day of birth a national holiday. Ron laughed himself ho@rs@ at Harry’s visage on the banners, and Harry decided at that moment that 21 was a perfectly respectable number of birthdays to have had.He needn’t celebrate ever again.It had been Draco Malfoy, of all people, who had saved the day.Granted, the first year Malfoy appointed himself the Master of Ceremonies—Consider it a reparation, Potter—the party had been, in a word, lame. But if there’s one thing Harry has come to appreciate over the last four years about Draco Malfoy, it’s his tenacity.And his @rs@.From his perch on the kitchen counter, Harry grins at the motley crew of Hogwarts Alums congregated in his flat, assembled by Draco’s pure charisma and manipulative charm. If someone had told Harry five years ago that these individuals would be gathered here by choice, laughing and joking and not yelling and hexing, he’d have put them in a body bind and deposited them in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's.“Dragon Boy!” Ginny calls. Liquor bottles hover and dance over the kitchen island behind her. “Come try this drink Lottie mixed, yea? I’m declaring it your signature. It’s called a Salty Dog.”Lottie tosses her black plait over her shoulder and explains in her American accent, “The grapefruit is tart, and the salt rim bites.”The liquor bottleneck skyline shifts, revealing Draco’s smirk from his languorous lounge across Harry’s couch. “My rim doesn’t bite, witches, but it is salty.” He gives them an obscene gesture, inserting his tongue to waggle between the vee of his two fingers.Harry’s stomach swoops to his knees, a gastronomical Wronski Feint. He chokes down a gulp of his c@cktail. The paper umbrella jabs him in the lip.Ginny exits the kitchen, cackling and Levitating drinks to follow her. Ron passes by her and gives her a high-five. The two large balloons attached to his chest, drawn with enormous areolas around nipple knots, bob up and down as he trots into the kitchen.Onto Lottie’s head, Ron places a crown fashioned out of balloons and shaped like a large erect p@n@s, complete with testicles. He hugs her from behind. “Where’s my signature drink, love?”Lottie twists in his arms. The balloon br@@sts squish between them. “Right here!” She holds up a glass. “It’s a Buttery Nipple.” She tugs at the balloon’s knot, releasing it with a snap. “Seemed appropriate.”Ron takes a sip and smacks his lips. “Brilliant.”Lottie points her wand in Harry’s direction. Magic singing with tribal beats swirls the ice and his near-empty glass fills. “More Harry Wallbanger for the birthday boy.”“Cheers,” Harry says.Lottie gives Harry a royal wave. Above the balloon bollocks nestled against her forehead, her hat’s p@n@s quivers toward the heavens. Ron kisses her dimpled cheek, grinning like a loon, the lucky b@st@rd. They’re entirely too cute, and Harry is entirely too single to have to witness this loving display.And on his f@ck@ng birthday!Harry glances at Hermione and Theo seated at the kitchen table, engrossed in conversation, eyes only for each other. The tops of Theo’s ears blush a darker red the more Hermione smiles. Harry’s eyes stray back to the den. Ginny has settled onto an armchair, and Pansy stands behind her, manipulating balloons into p@n@s and v@lv@ shapes. Pansy tugs Ginny’s hair, and Ginny tilts her head back to receive a kiss.Harry sighs. He’s becoming less enamoured with this stupid day by the minute.Luna enters the kitchen carrying a large cake blanketed in creamy white icing. Colorful paper butterflies and white cranes flutter over strawberries nestled in peaked swirls.“Oh, Harry!” she exclaims. “Your Wrackspurt energy field is muddy.” She sets the cake on the counter next to champagne bottles chilling in stasis. The corners of her mouth tilt down. “It’s the balloons, isn’t it?”Over Luna’s shoulder, Harry sees Draco chatting animatedly with Ginny. Grey eyes catch him staring. He looks away quickly, his magic twisting in his gut.“No, I like balloons,” he says. “Fun fact, I blew up my aunt once. Like a balloon, you know, not like—” He mimics an explosion with his hands. “It’s just,” he adds, “remember that conversation we had the other night at the pub?”Ron leans an elbow on the counter. The balloon br@@sts loll to the side. “The one about Nimbus’ new racing broom? F@ck, I hope you’re gifted one for your birthday.”“No.” Harry sighs again. “After that.”“About Lottie’s perfectly plump b@m?” Luna offers. Ron leers, and his hand migrates down Lottie’s curves to regions south.“Before that,” Harry says. He rolls his eyes at Ron. “And that was less a conversation and more a monologue, mate.”Draco’s maniacal laugh explodes from the den, and Harry tries not to look, he really does. But how can he resist when Draco’s head tilts back like that to elongate his sinuous neck? When his Adam's apple slides smoothly under nearly-translucent skin with each chuckle? Harry sucks his drink through his straw until air gurgles around the ice.“Then, what—” Ron follows Harry’s gaze. “Ah.” He nuzzles his nose beneath Lottie’s balloon crown to whisper into her ear. “Harry wants the Deeeeee.”Harry’s neck flames hot. “Bl@@dy hell!”“Oh, honey.” Lottie pats Harry’s arm. “You’re precious, but I figured that out on my own.”Harry cringes.Ron swipes a finger through the pristine white icing frosting Harry’s birthday cake, catching the “D” in HAPPY BIRTHDAY spelled out in gold. He holds the glob up to Harry’s lips. “Take it, Potter. You know you want it.”“Sod off!” Harry hops off the counter. He jabs two fingers into the icing and swipes it on Ron’s jaw. A hunk drips off and lands on one of the balloon b@@bs.Ron inhales sharply. “How dare!” He lunges for the cake and his balloons knock into the champagne bottles, causing them to tumble. There’s a scuffle and more damage to the cake. Paper butterflies and cranes scatter in a flurry. A bottle topples over with a clang.“Oi!” Pansy yells. Her shrill voice sets the strands of Harry’s hair not clutched in Ron’s sticky fingers on end. Harry and Ron freeze.Pansy scowls, hands on her hips. “What are you twats, twelve?” The orange p@n@s-shaped balloon strapped around her waist flops around her groin. Ginny stands behind her clutching her sides. A large blue balloon-v@lv@ hat slides over her face as she laughs.Harry disentangles himself from Ron’s long limbs. “He did it!”“You made me do it!” Ron frowns. In addition to the icing on Ron’s jaw, a large smear cuts through his cinched eyebrow.Luna pokes at a paper butterfly carcass twitching on the counter. “It’s suffered collateral damage.”Ginny peers over Luna’s shoulder. “You prats better repair it before Malfoy sees it.”Ron murmurs an Aw f@ck right before Draco’s distinctive drawl intones, “Before Malfoy sees what?”The bottom of Harry’s stomach drops out. And just as he fixes his gaze on Draco striding into the kitchen, nose aloft, Ron plucks the d@ck hat off Lottie and places it tenderly on Harry’s head.Harry closes his eyes for a beat and dies a little inside. “Hi,” he says, forcing a grin.Even Draco’s hum is posh as he leans around Harry to inspect the cake. He smells so f@ck@ng good, Harry’s magic wobbles, as twitchy as the few crumpled butterflies still lurching over the cake.Draco glares at Ron. Ron feigns innocence and points a finger at Harry. Harry did it, he mouths.Harry scoffs. “Whatever, I’ll just…” He sets the bottles to rights with a sweep of his hand. Another little complicated flourish and the icing swirls and covers up where their fingers had been. The golden letters aren’t quite as tidy and the butterflies still lurch about, so he adds an extra dusting of pink sugar crystals to the strawberries.“D@mn, Harry,” Ginny exhales forcefully. “That was impressive. Wouldn’t you say that was impressive, Draco?”Draco clears his throat. Harry takes a mental picture of the perfect pink of his cheeks. For later, when he can savor it at his leisure.“The frosting is still lumpy,” Draco complains, “and I can see Weasel’s oaf fingerprints but...it’s tolerable.” His gaze shifts to the top of Harry’s head, the gold flecks in his eyes sparkling. “Is that a turgid p@n@s on your head, Potter, or are you just happy to see me?”It’s a default habit of his to revert to surnames; a subconscious thing Draco does when they are all together. Harry likes it. A lot. There are so many salacious scenarios in which surnames would be appropriate. Such as ordering Harry to his knees and commanding Harry’s mouth on Draco’s turgid c@ck. F@ck, he needs to derail this train of thought.“Turgid?” Ron says, frowning. “It’s a balloon with a f@ck@ng hard-on.”Draco’s expression flattens. “Yes, Ronald, it’s what turgid means.”“Harry likes balloons,” Luna says. “And p@n@ses, too.” She conjures two flowers; one she tucks behind her ear and the other she tucks in Harry’s hat, probably between the balloon b@lls.“Penises,” Lottie says, taking a thoughtful sip of her drink. “That can’t be right. Penii, maybe?”Hermione pipes up from the table. “The proper plural is indeed p@n@ses.”“Do you often find you need to pluralize p@n@s then, Hermione?” Draco asks.Hermione smiles wickedly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”Draco raises his eyebrow. “Indeed, I would.”“I would also be quite interested,” Theo says, ears practically purple.“Myself,” Ginny says.Hermione giggles and buries her blush in her hands, setting Theo’s face ablaze. Harry smiles. It’s lovely to see her so relaxed and happy.“Personally,” Ron says. “I like the term c@ck.”Pansy snorts. “You would.”“It’s a strong, assertive word.” Ron punches his fist forward. “C@ck.”Lottie taps her chin. “So, then the plural would be…cocci?”“Cocci is actually the plural of coccus,” Theo states. “It’s a term used in microbiology referring to any spherically shaped bacterium.”Hermione’s fading blush deepens again. “You know, I love it when you talk Muggle science.” Theo ducks his head bashfully.“You would,” Pansy says. “Oh for f@cks sake, you two tomatoes, kiss already!”“To be fair,” Ron says. “Harry likes f@nny as well as p@n@s.” He shimmies his balloon br@@sts around. “Though it’s true that at the mo, penii are the front runner.”“Penises, Ronald,” Draco says. “Hermione says so. She’s the expert.”“Oh, honestly!” Hermione sputters.Pansy smirks, “Penises, penii, c@cks, cocci. As long as it’s turgid what’s the difference, right Potter?” She flicks the tip of the balloon d@ck on Harry’s head.Harry groans.Ginny pours out champagne and hands Harry a glass. “Blink twice if you want me to mercy kill you.”Harry clinks his glass against hers. “Cheers.”“So.” Draco stares at the ground. “Penises these days then, Potter?” He lifts his gaze to meet Harry’s, his eyes so focused Harry’s heart pulses out one, two, three quick beats.“Erm.” Harry chews the inside of his cheek. This is entirely too much talk about c@cks and p@n@ses especially with the one and only penis to whom he’s attracted. No, wait. He’s attracted to Draco and not his c@ck. Though he wants that, too. Merlin, he really does want the D.“Actually,” Hermione says. “Harry’s attracted to the person and not their gender—"“Blah, blah, blah, pansexual, we know,” Ron says. “Fine. This particular person just happens to have a c@ck and is standing—"Harry snaps his fingers, magic lancing, and Ron’s breast balloons pop.Ron yelps. “Hey!” He protects his chest with his arms. “Rude.”Draco takes Ginny’s champagne, tips the glass to his lips, and drains it. His blush spreads up his jaw to settle in a small rosy patch near his ear.“Ok enough with the wandless magic, Potter.” Pansy fans her face with her hand. “You’re getting us all turgid.” She nudges Draco’s side and shakes her hips. The balloon penis she wears sways side to side. “Now. How about cake?”“Yes,” Harry says. “C@ck would be brilliant, cake! Cake would be brilliant!” Embarrassment blazes through him, heating his armpits. Did he put on deodorant? F@ck, he hopes he put on deodorant. “I mean, c@ck is brilliant, too. I’ve nothing against c@ck. I’ve got a c@ck on my… head,” he finishes lamely.Ron drags his hand down his face. Lottie toasts Harry while Ginny snaps a photo using Harry's new Muggle cell phone. Thankfully, Hermione’s too busy snogging Theo to witness Harry’s stupidity.To further his embarrassment, because he’s an idiot and a m@s@ch@st, Harry chances a darting glance at Draco. Draco hides a smirk behind his glass. Pansy, scarlet lips stretched into a wide smirk, leans to whisper in Draco’s blushing ear.A powerful, not altogether unfamiliar urge compels Harry, one he’s very rarely indulged. His magic crackles around him. The champagne glasses begin to rattle together.“Okay,” Harry exhales shakily. “I’m going to stop saying c@ck now and get me some c@ck, cake! Bl@@dy hell!” He blinks frantically at Ginny. A mercy killing would be f@ck@ng brilliant right about now.Ginny, unhelpfully, winks back. She snaps another picture.Luna holds her wand poised above the cake, a plate hovering at the ready. “I’m not sure. Harry, do you want cake or c@ck?”Harry succumbs. The last thing he hears before fleeing the kitchen is Ron and Ginny say in unison, “Both!”* * *Harry paces his bedroom.Laughter and conversation float in from the kitchen.“C@ck would be brilliant,” he whines. “I’m going to get me some c@ck. Bl@@dy hell, Potter.”He tears the balloon hat off his head, twisting it in his fist. The penis tip bulges grotesquely and the latex squeaks so loudly he nearly misses a soft knock at the open door. He glances up at Draco holding a plate piled high with cake and strawberries. Paper cranes and butterflies flutter around his head. He looks like a silver-haired nymph or a stormy-eyed elf or something equally pretty.Too bad Harry’s a c@ck-happy troll.“I thought I’d bring you a slice,” Draco says, “since you went on and on about”—his lips twitch—“cake.”Harry groans at the ceiling and resumes pacing, pausing only when he hears the door click shut. Draco leans against the jamb and appraises the room. His gaze lingers on a pair of red pants patterned with golden snitches draped over the chair, then his eyes flick to another pair—blue with green dragons—pooled by the chest of drawers.Perfect. Harry pouts. His mortification knows no limits, apparently.A push away from the door and Draco approaches, a small pretentious smile gracing his face. His magic expands, soothing and minty cool, and the plate Levitates in front of Harry. A wand tap and a whispered Inflamare lights the candle stuck into the icing. A honey flame flickers. The paper cranes draw close to dance in a circular formation around the glow.“Make a wish, Potter.”“Can I wish for the earth to open up and swallow me whole?” Harry pouts further.Draco tuts. “If you tell me your wish, it won’t come true.”Harry’s laugh snuffs out the candle. The cranes expire in a puff of purple sparks.“Good boy,” Draco purrs. Warmth coils through Harry’s veins like the smoke still rising from the candle, pushing heat through his fingertips. The balloon pops.Draco’s teeth flash pearly white, and he sets the plate on the chest of drawers. “Cake is brilliant. Or so I’ve heard.”Harry snorts.Draco picks up a strawberry, using it to scoop a generous lump of icing—decorated with a golden “D”, of course—and offers it. “And it is your birthday,” he says softly. “You should have your cake... ” The strawberry caresses Harry’s mouth, a slow drag tracing the seam, connecting Harry’s heartbeats. “And eat it, too,” Draco finishes.Harry’s lips brush Draco’s fingertips as he bites into the fruit. Juice, translucent red, runs down Draco’s hand like the trickle of desire tingling in Harry’s groin.With a hitched breath, Draco swipes his sticky thumb along Harry’s bottom lip, catching gooey crumbs.Harry swallows around his heart thrumming in his throat. He catches Draco’s wrist and sucks down his thumb, closing his lips around the knuckle. His tongue, coated with tart strawberry and sweet icing, presses against the muscle mounded at the base.A breathy moan escapes Draco’s throat.Harry releases Draco’s thumb with a pop and crowds him against the bureau. “Just to clarify, since all the blood has left my brain—” He hooks his fingers in Draco’s belt loops and pulls their hips flush. “You’re offering me cake, and by cake you mean—”Draco darts forward and silences Harry with a kiss sugar-sweet, full of velvet heat… and a promise of more. It’s a kiss that curls Harry’s toes and kicks him in the back of the knees.“That’s what I mean,” Draco grumbles, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. His fingers tangle in Harry’s hair. “Prat.”“Brilliant.” Harry nuzzles Draco’s ear. “Because I want to suck you off. For my birthday.” He sinks to his knees and looks up. “May I?”Draco blinks. A small noise escapes his throat.“It is my birthday. And I should eat my cake as instructed.” Harry turns his head and mouths at Draco’s growing erection through his trousers, dampening it with his lips and tongue.Ruddy splotches bloom on Draco’s neck, and he fumbles with the button until finally, with a strangled growl he grabs his wand and Vanishes his trousers and pants. His c@ck, full and flushed, swings and taps Harry’s cheek.Harry grins so big his face hurts. “Well, happy birthday to me.”Draco huffs away the fringe fallen into his eyes.“You must be happy to see me.”“My pants are easily summoned, Potter.”“You sure are salty with your d@ck out.” Harry grips Draco’s hips and turns him to face away from him.“Wait,” Draco squawks. “What are you—”“First course.” Harry hikes Draco’s shirttail and caresses firm cheeks, marveling at their perfect plumpness before parting them. He whispers a cleaning spell, his gentle breath eliciting a wave of goosebumps to cascade beneath the fine blond hair lightly dusting the flushed skin of Draco’s low back.“F@ck, Potter!” Draco grits, scrambling to grab the chest’s top edge.Harry squeezes handfuls of muscle, digging divots with his fingertips. “I f@ck@ng love it when you call me Potter.” He dives in to lay the flat of his tongue against the rosy pucker.Draco moans. He grabs onto Harry’s hair and clutches tightly, pressing back into Harry’s mouth. His back arches, a smooth slope Harry traces with trembling fingers while he suckles delicate skin. A wet hot stripe licked bollocks to tailbone buckles Draco’s legs. His knees bang into the chest. Picture frames topple. The fork clatters off the plate.“You like that,” Harry says, humming with satisfaction. He chuckles when Draco’s fingers tug his hair.Harry guides Draco to face forward, and he sits back on his heels, taking a moment to unfasten his jeans. Draco, mouth as slick as the tip of his c@ck, watches Harry take his own erection in hand. Another whispered spell, this one emanating from Draco’s wand, slicks Harry’s palm.“And I like that. Your magic, Draco, f@ck.” Harry slides his fist over himself, cupping the tip, eyelids fluttering.With a glance up into hooded eyes blown wide, Harry circles Draco’s c@ck with his thumb and forefinger and takes Draco into his mouth. His tongue maps the weeping slit, the ridge of Draco’s c@ckh@@d, the bulging vein running along the underside. Damp hair at the base presses against his palm.“Harry,” Draco gasps.Harry’s magic bursts hot, rattling the bureau drawers and his bones. His c@ck twitches in his fist, dribbling pre-come. He whimpers around Draco’s c@ck.“I think you like that even more.” Draco traces Harry’s lips stretched wide around his girth with a soft fingertip. “Harry.”At the sound of his name in Draco’s supercilious voice, Harry thrusts erratically into his fist, chasing the throb pulsing through him. He clutches Draco’s hip. His thumb finds the divot behind Draco’s hipbone and presses, urging Draco to slide deeper into his throat.Draco anchors his hands against Harry’s head and jerks his hips in an elliptical rhythm in time with a litany of punchy exhales of so good, and f@ck, and yes. His bare arse slaps against the bureau, tapping out a steady beat as he pushes into Harry’s mouth, and Harry pushes into his hand over and over.Magic swirls around them, a cacophony of blues and golds, Levitating the items littering the top of the chest and the dirty clothes strewn about the room.Harry can hardly keep his lips sealed around Draco for want of smiling.“F@ck.” Draco inhales sharply, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “So good. You’re so good, Harry.”Harry’s magic flares, a white-hot strobe, and he climaxes, spilling over his fingers.With a final cry of Harry, Harry, Harry, Draco withdraws and comes over Harry’s face.Picture frames, clothing, the fork, plate, and food all come crashing down onto the chest and the floor. A pair of pants, the blue ones, lands half on Harry’s head.“It’s official. I love my birthday,” Harry announces.Draco collapses onto his knees. He surveys the room. “We made quite a mess.” He takes the pants and cleans Harry’s face.As he works, Harry studies Draco’s features, beautifully flushed and achingly gorgeous. His heart trips over a beat.“It’s not true, you know,” Harry says. He affects a serious expression.“Well, I mean the room was already quite messy…” Draco pauses. He frowns, brows knitting together, body tensing.“You don’t have a salty rim.”Draco blushes and shoves Harry’s face away with the pants. “Heathen,” he says fondly.Harry laughs and grabs him, hauling him to straddle his lap. Their kiss is slow and sweet and almost chaste. Harry’s smile breaks the seal of their lips.“What are you so happy about?” Draco preens as if he doesn’t already know. He collects a mound of icing off the back of the overturned plate.“Only part of my birthday wish came true.”“Oh?” Draco squirms in Harry’s lap and f@ck if Harry’s cock isn’t stirring against the curve of warm bare skin. “What else could you possibly want? Seems to me you have everything you need, birthday boy.” He smears icing onto the tip of Harry’s nose.“If I tell you, it won’t come true, now will it?” Harry guides Draco’s hand to his mouth and sucks Draco’s finger clean.Draco’s eyes darken, and Harry decides that he definitely loves his birthday.'
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