Fandom: Harry Potter
Person/Pairing: Miles/Blaise, mention of Blaise/Draco
Summary: Blaise gets up in the middle of the night to make a snack
Prompt: 13 Kitchen
Word Count: 2993
Warnings: Slight bit of anal play and a very small bit of D/s, but other than that, nothing, unless you count sex in the kitchen as a kink…
My Prompt Table
Author's notes: For amberry, who is the Miles (and the Draco) to my Blaise. This Miles is a bit softer and saner than hers, but I hope you’ll like him. This takes place three years after The Replacement, and immediately after HBP. I can be read on its own, or in conjunction with the first. I’ve got one more story idea from this universe that I might do, but other than that, I think the story is done.
The recipe in this is one of my own mental making, I’ve never actually made cinnamon bread, but the basic idea is here, and the only real difference is that Blaise is using dried cherries, nuts and sugar instead of raisins and cinnamon.
Blaise smiled, watching Miles as he slept. It was difficult to believe that only a few hours before he had been a student at Hogwarts. Now Hogwarts was closed, Draco was on the run, and Blaise had landed here, with Miles. Long after he’d arrived, after they’d managed to sate themselves, they’d talked. Late into the night they’d talked: about family expectations, about friends, about love versus sex, and so much more. Of course, there were things unspoken as well; most particularly the reasons he was here in the first place: Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters, and Draco’s flight. They also avoided any mention of the only other time they’d really talked. The memory of that afternoon was still ever-present, though, as was the looming worry of the War.
Blaise had pleaded with every press of lips and each caress for Miles to allow him to stay. Miles’s answer, equally silent, equally tactile, was an unequivocal “yes.”
Three times they’d come together, and each time, they had simply been unable to stop touching each other afterwards. Dark fingers exploring soft, pale skin, pale limbs entwined with golden, tongues tracing jaw lines, necks and collarbones, gasps and sighs and half-words filling the room around them. But Miles had finally slipped fully into slumber, no longer responding to Blaise’s soft questions and comments, so Blaise contented himself with just watching him sleep.
Blaise had never been too sure he believed in love. He’d seen precious little of it in his life. Those who had first touched him hadn’t done so in any sort of loving way, but had simply taken what they wanted from him, uncaring of the scars it left on his psyche. It had not been about sharing with him, but taking from him.
Even when he’d finally realized there was something more to it, he’d known he could never allow himself to become too attached to his partner. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for Draco. It was just that he knew, war or not, he would never be able to keep him. Family expectations for Draco were simply too high. He’d assumed that keeping a bit of himself back would make it easier when he finally let go. He’d had no idea how wrong he was.
And yet, here he was, a breath from letting go every control he had ever had. With Miles, he felt no need to hold back. Miles seemed to have no one to answer to, and had welcomed Blaise with opened arms, as though no time at all had passed since that afternoon in the Slytherin locker room. If he could just be assured that Miles had no intention of following the Dark Lord into this conflict… No, he didn’t know that this was love, but he did have hopes that it might become that.
Blaise had never been much of a sleeper. Too many fractured nights had left him with chronic insomnia, and the last year had not helped him in his sleeping habits at all. He had spent more time holding Draco at night or making love to him to prevent him from falling apart, and had been completely unable to find sleep himself. Watching Draco fall apart had been too difficult. All he could do now was hope that the rumors that Professor Snape had accompanied Draco in his flight were true.
Still, he thought it might be best if he left Miles to his sleep. Perhaps he could find himself a distraction. He leaned forward and kissed Miles’s cheek, then slipped from the bed, pulling on his night-robe, and left the room as quietly as he could. He breathed a bit easier when he reached the ground floor, pleased that Miles had a house rather than a flat. At least in a place this large, his noises would have less chance of carrying to Miles’s bedroom.
One way Blaise had found to work off his midnight anxieties was to cook. He couldn’t say why the act of cooking was so calming for him, but it gave him something else to focus on, and wore him out enough that by the time he went back to bed, he was often asleep before he managed to pull up the covers. He had given the house elves at home fits, but it had never deterred him. The creative process calmed him, the evidence of his experiments filled his stomach, and the house-elves were soon happy enough cleaning the cookware he used in his experimentation.
He’d never before shared what he’d made. Mostly because he was embarrassed by the things that he’d made. He made a point of never sticking to the recipe, because it gave him more to think about. He particularly enjoyed adding some sort of twist of his own to whatever he made, but it occasionally meant that the recipe didn’t turn out quite right. They nearly always tasted good, though. He only hoped that whatever concoction he came up with tonight would be in the majority, because for once, he wanted to share whatever he ended up making with Miles.
Once he’d made his way to the kitchen and closed the door behind himself, he moved across the room to the pantry and began to pull out the things he would need for bread, noticing a jar of nuts on one shelf and a bag of dried cherries on another and adding them to his growing pile on the kitchen counter.
He couldn’t have said how much time had passed before Miles appeared, but he’d managed to finish the dough, which was rising, and was working to mix up the cherry-nut mix that would go inside it. He was so wrapped up in stirring the mixture that he didn’t notice Miles’s presence until arms encircled his waist and a chin came to rest on his shoulder.
Blaise smiled, but never missed a beat in his mixing. “Yes, Miles?”
“What are you doing?” he asked, the bemusement plain in his voice.
“Building a mansion for us,” he responded, a slight smirk flitting across his lips.
He could practically hear Miles roll his eyes. “Okay, maybe it was a bit silly to ask that. I’ll rephrase. What are you making?”
Blaise laughed softly. “Cherry bread,” he responded.
Blaise nodded. “It’s a bit like cinnamon raisin bread, except with cherries and nuts instead of raisins.”
Blaise shrugged. “It will be if I can get it to work, anyway.”
“You’ve never made it before?”
Blaise shrugged. “I never make the same thing twice.” He put down the bowl of filling down on the counter, and then turned out the dough on the board and began to work it, pressing the dough into a vaguely rectangular shape and enjoyed the interplay of light and dark as he pushed it into shape. It reminded him of sex, now that he thought about it. The dough curled around his hands like a lover, not wanting to let go, and becoming more pliable with each press. His tongue slid out to moisten his lips unconsciously as he worked, and so he was rather startled when Miles groaned behind him, pressing a very solid erection against Blaise’s backside.
“Gods, Blaise,” Miles breathed into his ear, “only you could make cooking look erotic.”
“Three times wasn’t enough for you?” Blaise laughed. Not that he would turn down more. He was still a teenager, after all.
“Not after watching that,” Miles growled softly as Blaise began to spread butter across the surface, grinding against him and nibbling at his neck.
Blaise made a pleased noise, pressing back into him, even as he reached for the cherry-nut mixture and spread that out over it as well. “Nearly done, love,” he told Miles, who growled.
“I can’t say I’m particularly willing to wait, here, Blaise.”
Blaise laughed softly as he began to carefully roll the dough up. “Hmm. I Didn’t say you had to stop,” he responded with a grin.
Miles snorted in response, but turned his attention to Blaise’s neck once more. Blaise tilted his head to give him better access, then finished rolling up the dough, tucking in the ends and placing it in the pan he’d prepared for it, then picking up his wand and casting a quick-rising spell he’d learned years before. Miles’s fingers moved down his sides as he worked, pulling at the sash of the robe he was wearing. Even as Blaise levitated the pan to the oven, there was a hand curling around his cock, and the pan wobbled a bit in the air before he managed to get it inside. The oven on and the timer set, Blaise leaned back against Miles.
“Mmm. Are you going to do something with that, or are you just going to tease me?” he asked with a soft smile, grinding back against the erection he could feel pressed against him through both robes.
Teeth sank into his shoulder, pulling a gasp from him. “Tease you?” Miles growled softly. “I should make you pay for that Zabini.”
“Maybe. But if you did, you’d suffer right along with me, wouldn’t you?”
“Brat.” Miles pulled off Blaise’s robe, letting it pool on the floor as he began to lick and nibble his way down Blaise’s spine. He placed a soft kiss against the small of his back, then pressed Blaise’s legs open gently. “Lean forward,” he said in a low voice. “And don’t move,” he added once Blaise had complied.
Blaise had gotten over a good amount of his trust issues when it came to sex while he was with Draco, but standing here, naked, in Miles’s brightly-lit kitchen, legs spread, his nails digging into the counter in front of him, he couldn’t prevent the flutter of fear that arose in him. Soft touches up his legs didn’t help things, either. “Miles…” he said with a soft, shuddering gasp.
“Shh.” The breath of a sound fluttered over the skin of his behind, and he whimpered. A hand came down suddenly on the skin of his leg just below his arsecheek, making him jump. “I said shush, Blaise,” Miles told him in a stern voice.
A finger circled Blaise’s hole, and he felt himself clench tighter at the sensation. He knew there was no reason to be nervous. Everything they’d done together so far had been incredible. So what was left to be so scared of?
There was a breath against the skin of his hole, and the finger pressed in, accompanied by a groan. “God, Blaise… You’re still slick. I could just slide right into you.” He pulled the finger out, sending a shudder through Blaise, then pulled away. Blaise bit down sharply on his tongue to keep himself from whimpering. Before he could begin to panic, Miles was behind him again, pressing against him. One arm went around Blaise’s chest, pulling him back against Miles. “Ready for me?” Miles asked in a soft voice.
Blaise couldn’t seem to get his tongue to work, so he nodded, his arms curling around the arm across his chest. It seemed forever before he felt the first press as Miles slid into him. He let his head fall back against Miles’s shoulder, a long groan pulled from him with the long, slow push into him.
Miles’s lips worked up his neck as he thrust in, then out, slowly and languorously, placing a kiss on his jawline before moving his lips to Blaise’s ear. “So gorgeous. After I left Hogwarts, I thought I’d never have you. I never thought I’d …” he gave a sudden, sharp thrust, drawing a gasp from Blaise, “…have this.”
Blaise’s hands moved to Miles’s hips, nearly clawing at the skin to get him closer. “Please, Miles…”
“Shh…” The hand on his chest slid down over his abdomen and fingers enclosed his cock. “Is this what you need, Blaise?” he asked, giving Blaise’s cock a stroke.
The positive answer that should have come got tangled in his thoughts, and was superceded by an entirely different one instead. “No.” Miles’s hand stilled, his body stiffening at the word. Blaise would have turned to put his arms around him to reassure him, but he didn’t want to lose the feel of Miles inside him. “I need…” His hands soothed down Miles’s sides. “Please, Miles. I…can’t lose you, too.”
Miles’s hand tightened for a second, then his other hand tilted Blaise’s head so that their eyes could meet. “Lose me?” His eyes were wary, his jaw tight.
Blaise didn’t want to voice the concern, but he had to. “To them. To Him.” He had to know. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Miles the same way he lost Draco. Because Blaise was never going to join the Dark Lord. Even with Dumbledore gone, Potter simply had too much luck on his side. Blaise would rather run than fail.
Miles’s hand tightened around his throat, and for a heart-stopping minute, Blaise was sure he was going to die, just like this, aroused, totally naked, and filled with Miles’s cock. The rush of adrenaline-laced fear caused him to tighten around the cock inside him, and his own cock throbbed in counterpoint to his heartbeat. Then there were lips on his, and Miles was fucking him in tight thrusts, his hand stroking him more deftly now, pulling every moan and gasp from him that Miles could manage, each swallowed eagerly by the other man.
The need and adrenaline pressed him to the edge, and it was only moments later that he was spilling into Miles’s hand, crying out his release into the other man’s mouth. Miles was only moments behind him, pulling his mouth away to cry out into the room, pulling Blaise as close as it was possible to get as he pulsed inside him. He sagged a bit against Blaise, and nestled his face in Blaise’s skin. “God. You undo me. After everything else, how can you undo me so easily?”
Blaise took a moment to gather himself, though he pulled one of Miles’s arms back up to his chest, to have something to hold on to. “Same way you do me, I suppose.” He thought for a moment, debating with himself, then asked, “So, I take it that means you have no intention of joining them?”
“Never in a million years.” He kissed Blaise’s cheek then pulled away gently, casting a quick cleaning spell before grabbing their robes and leading Blaise to the living room and settling them both on the couch before looking at him seriously. “Blaise…” He looked as though he were debating something with himself before he finally said, “Why did you come here tonight?”
Blaise smiled. “I thought that would be obvious.”
Miles smirked, and pulled him into his lap, cradling him so that their faces were mere inches away from each other. “All right, smart aleck. I get it.” He sobered quickly, though. “But why come here first? You didn’t even bother to go home, did you?”
Blaise rested his head on Miles’s shoulder, both for the comfort factor, and so that he could avoid looking him in the eye. “I’d never get away if I did. Who do you think let those men touch me in the first place? She’d probably sell me to Him…” And there was a thought to make him shudder. “I just had to know. Before I left.”
“Left?” Miles sounded alarmed. “What do you mean?” His arms tightened around Blaise.
With that positive sign, Blaise’s eyes rose met Miles’s gaze. “I’m going to Italy. The family has a few places there. It shouldn’t be difficult to get set up there and finish my schooling, maybe start up a small business.” He swallowed nervously before cautiously adding, “You could come with me…”
“Come with you?”
Blaise opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, the alarm for the bread went off. “Damn. I almost forgot.” He slid out of Miles’s lap, and hurried into the kitchen, where he levitated the pan from the oven. He set it on the counter, casting a cooling charm on it before slicing off two pieces. He handed one to Miles. “Here. Bread’s always best when it’s right out of the oven,” he said with a smile.
The first bite was perfect. Soft and warm and sweet, with the crunch of nuts. He looked at Miles to see what he thought, and couldn’t hold back a grin when he saw the look of astonishment on his lover’s face.
“Wow. My mum’s house elves can’t make bread this good,” Miles said with a growing smile. “Are you sure you’re not a house elf in disguise?”
Blaise narrowed his eyes. “Bite your tongue.”
A hand snaked out and pulled Blaise against Miles’s chest. “So. This possible business. It wouldn’t have anything to do with baking, would it?”
It was a good question. Blaise had never really considered it before. But then, he’d never shared any of his creations before, either. “It’s a thought. Why?”
“Well, I might not be too good at the baking thing, but I’m pretty good when it comes to dealing with money matters. If you say…needed a partner?”
Blaise’s arms went around Miles’s neck, and he grinned broadly. “In every sense of the word, lover,” he said, sealing the deal with a kiss.