Roasting coffee beans and cinnamon laced through Harry's nose waking him up from a much needed slumber. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking away the dry around his eyes and the slight alcohol still on his breath. He ran his hand over the night stand searching for his glasses. He gripped the pair, shoving them onto his face.

Finally able to see, Harry had to take a second to remember where he was. The bed he was in wasn't as comfortable as the one in his home, but it was still very welcoming. The thick black comforter resting over him was warm and smelled like oranges. The room he was in wasn't anything grand, with its soft grey walls and hard wood floor, but it was cozy. A few dark dressers lined the wall and the open closet displayed an assortment of finely lined clothes. There was an aura of comfort that threatened to send Harry back to sleep.

The smell of cinnamon and coffee grew stronger. Harry searched for his clothes, slipping on his boxers and jeans. His shirt from the night before was nowhere in the room. It took him a moment to remember that he had tossed it somewhere during their drunken tirade. The smells traveling through the flat were too enticing for him to remain in the bedroom.

Exiting the bedroom, Harry made his way towards the kitchen and the wonderful smells. It only took a moment, and he had to stop at the sight that greeted him. "Good mornin, Malfoy."

Draco turned from the counter, offering up a cup of coffee. "Want a cuppa?"

Harry took it, sniffing the sweet smell of coffee. His eyes racked over Draco, taking in the way his dark blue pajama pants hung at the curve of his hip, and the very blond trail of hair that etched over soft white skin. He was shirtless and the hickey on his neck and the scratch marks matching Harry's nails were on full display. "You want a hand with breakfast?"

Draco turned his back to Harry, flipping a piece of bacon over. "Are you staying for breakfast?"

That was a question they had never discussed. Four months now they'd been doing this off and on again shagging, but it never lasted passed the sunrise and soberness coming through. Draco was always gone from Harry's place before the man was fully awake. They had never ended up in Draco's flat, at least not till the night prior. Harry watched as Draco flipped the bacon again, and worked on some scrambled eggs. A toaster popped to the side, sending the smell of warm bread over the kitchen - Harry had some questions about the Muggle device being here, but was't too concerned right now. He noticed the two plates sitting on the counter.

Looking down at his mug, watching Draco take a sip from a matching one, Harry smirked. "You worked me really rough last night. I could use some food."

Draco didn't turn from the stove, merely scoffed. His voice was laced with that snotty vein of his youth, but was also touched with a charming undertone. "Ah, Saint Potter taking what he wants. First you make me ride your dick and now you expect me to feed you."

Harry leaned back on his chair. "First of all, you're the one who wanted my dick. If I remember right, you showed up with the beer and was all 'take me Potter, I need you inside me.' Am I right?"

"I must have been too drunk to remember," Draco answered. He clicked the stove off, dishing the eggs and bacon onto the plates. He tossed a set of toast onto each plate, and turned towards the table. It was such a domestic feel as Draco set a plate before Harry. He watched the blond set his own plate, and coffe onto the table.

Grabbing a piece of bacon, Harry nibbled on his while casting a sultry gaze across the table. "You weren't too drunk to ride my dick. How many times last night? Four? Was it four?"

Draco rested his elbows on the table, propping his coffee mug up to his lips. "Shut up and eat your breakfast, Potter."

Harry chuckled, taking a bite of the bacon. He tasted far too good. As the pair ate, casting glances at each other, neither wanted to broach what turn breakfast would have on their relationship. But the one thing Harry was aware of, was that Draco was a very good cook.