Threatening To Love You.

Title: Good Morning, Sunshine.
Author: Pekeleke
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Rating: M
Challenge: Written for the adventdrabbles 2021. Prompt #11: Gold Nutcracker.
Word Count: 929
Warnings: Explicit Language. Dramatic Draco. Humor.
Disclaimer: The characters, setting, and the HP franchise are owned by JKR and not me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
A/N: Unbeated. Ch 11 of my Christmas Series: Threatening To Love You.
Summary: "Hey," Harry says when they finally stand side by side. Draco shivers in reaction to his closeness, to the soft tone of his voice, to the memory of their knee-weakening kiss.”

Good Morning, Sunshine.

Draco has spent the morning in a daze. After Harry snogged him breathless by the seventh-floor lift banks last night, Draco had been unable to do anything other than daydream like a fool about his future boyfriend’s lips, soft wild hair, and gorgeous green eyes. Draco had felt entirely useless when he’d spent twice the amount of time it'd have normally taken to finish the etching work on the remaining glass ornaments for the Ministry's upcoming New Year's Ball. At least his lack of sleep meant he could work on more of them than he'd initially intended.

This morning, Draco knows he should be tired but feels strangely energetic. He's been at the office since five-thirty, a good two hours before his regular clocking time. He has already managed to complete the report on last night's soiree, double-checked the charms on the gold nutcracker meant to be the centerpiece for the unspeakables's Christmas luncheon, and sent a memo to Wiltsford, up in Magical Games and Sports, to remind him that his stupid twenty-five goats will arrive today at eleven-thirty in the morning, courtesy of Brian, the goatherd.

Juliet looks at him askance when she finally shows up but doesn't ask any questions. She must think he's still riding the high of last night's success. Everyone in the department knows how fond Draco is of Betsy and how much effort he puts into ensuring that the celebrations for her department have that magical touch that makes them more than merely successful. Draco loves turning Betsy's soirees into memories worth keeping.

Harry shows up around ten-thirty. He’s all shy smiles, hungry green eyes, and adorable blushes. Draco's heart starts dancing the polka as soon as he catches sight of him. Their eyes connect in the busy corridor outside his office, and every single member of Draco's team disappears entirely from his consciousness. All he sees is Harry. All he wants to see is Harry. There's nothing in the world Draco wants more than to stand right here and stare at this brilliant man who snogged him like he's the most important human being in the entire universe, basking in the knowledge that Harry wants to snog him all over again. It's written all over his face.

"Hey," Harry says when they finally stand side by side. Draco shivers in reaction to his closeness, to the soft tone of his voice, to the memory of their knee-weakening kiss.

"Hey," He replies, not even embarrassed at his lack of originality, at the worrisome desertion of his finishing-school enhanced vocabulary.

"Rumor has it you were here before the chickens welcomed the day."

Draco shakes his head at the strange greeting, "Good morning to you too," he says primly, and Harry bursts into nervous giggles.

"Good morning, Sunshine”

“Sunshine?” Draco gapes, blushing self-consciously, “Isn’t it a bit soon for nicknames?”

Harry has the gall to look surprised, “Is it? But you’ve been calling me Scarhead for ages.”

“Potter-

“Joking. I— er- I wanted to see you. Make sure you're OK. ‘Cause you arrived so early and all. Wanna go get some tea? I've got time."

"I'm busy right now. There are a bunch of goats arriving in an hour, and we're attempting to prepare a pen to hold them. It's a bloody nightmare."

"Goats?" Harry blinks, understandably puzzled, "I know you're very skilled and all, but how on earth are you going to use goats on a Christmas-themed party?"

"The idiots up at Sports&Games like to divide them in two teams and make them play 'Goat Quidditch.' It looks as stupid as it sounds, and it's a pain to arrange. I hate goats. They eat everything they look at," Draco explains gloomily and feels like throwing the heavy paperweight from Robbin's desk at his future boyfriend for daring to laugh at his plight.

"Goat Quidditch. Ron is going to love that."

"If you tell that ginger prat about it, and he dares to even imply he wants the auror's soiree next year to feature the stupid beasts, I'm gonna skin you alive, Potter."

"No, you won't. You'll need me to convince Ron that goats are overrated. Maybe he'll agree to have Peacock Quidditch instead. I've heard you like those."

"Peacocks were my father's obsession. I prefer crups," Draco sniffs.

"Of course you do," Harry agrees softly, green gaze bright with unashamed adoration, "Crups are much sweeter and loving. They suit you better."

Draco feels himself blush like a schoolgirl, "Nobody's ever called me sweet before. Or loving. Most people think I'm a pain in the arse."

Harry laughs, "You can be. But that's not all you are."

Draco doesn't know how to respond. He feels shy and overwhelmed. Harry doesn't have the same problem, though. He leans forward and whispers conspiratorially in his ear, "You look lovely this morning. I'm dying to kiss you again."

Draco gasps, feeling alive and courageous and on edge, "I want to kiss you too. But we can't. Not here. That’d be terribly unprofessional.”

"What about at lunch? I take mine around one. We could go to that poncy place you like. Kiss in the Alley next door. Hold hands along the way."

Draco thinks his very bones will melt with longing. He’s never experienced that type of lunch break. But he desperately wants to, "I'd like that. Very much. And I think I can arrange it. Yeah, let's do it."

"Cool!" Harry beams, "I'll pick you up here at one, then."

"It's a date," Draco says, and they both laugh like absolute idiots before parting to go their separate ways.