Harry Potter was not a picky sort of fellow. Growing up with the Dursleys, he'd learned that if one wanted something to eat, one had best accept anything that was given to him, because, well, at least it was something, and one might not get another something for some time.

The one something he could not stand, however, was peppermint. Not that he was getting sweeties from his Aunt and Uncle very often, but there were times when Harry just ate what he was given or, maybe more accurately, what was left over.

Peppermint was fairly easy to avoid, though, so besides the occasional annoyance, Harry led a fairly peaceful life free of minty distraction.

That was, until Draco Malfoy came along. Or, you know, came along for the second time in Harry's life—this time as a co-worker, and not as a school rival. Sure, they were still a bit competitive, but most of the time tussles occurred over the distribution of morning coffee or paperwork.

Harry was having a bit of a dilemma, though, because as much as he enjoyed the repartee with Malfoy, he much more enjoyed watching him fellate candy canes during the Christmas season. Malfoy probably didn't even know he was doing it, but he always had one of those peppermint sweeties in his mouth—morning, noon, or night—pink tongue lapping at the white and red cane almost absently, but certainly not inexpertly.

In short, it was making it hard (erm.) for Harry to continue despising that particular flavour.

"Mate, you're doing it again."

Harry jumped in his chair before spinning around and pinning a glare on Terry Boot, who grinned and winked before sliding back to his desk, whispering, "Your gay is showing!"

Harry whipped around to see if anyone had heard before hissing back, "It is not!"

"Oh, so you're finally admitting it exists, then?" Terry dipped his quill in the purple inkpot next to his mountain of paperwork and continued where he'd left off—probably on the embezzlement case, if Harry were to measure up the amount of parchment.

If Harry had known being an Auror would include so much paperwork and lounging about with nosy, flamingly straight Auror partners, he might've considered other options. Then again, he probably would never have noticed the existence of his own sexuality if he hadn't been recruited. Terry was sarcastic but straightforward, able to read Harry much better than he had imagined he would in the beginning. Harry appreciated it, mostly. He had appreciated Terry's advice when Harry had come out to him a year ago, even when Harry had mistaken Terry for a fellow closet-dweller. Harry had given him the purple inkpot last Christmas, as a thank you and a bit of a jab. Terry had used the inkpot every day since, and proudly. Until Harry had continued the tradition with a purple wand holster this time around. Then he'd smacked him in the back of the head.

Seeing as he'd zoned out a bit too long, Harry threw a subdued "shut up" in his partner's direction and turned back to his desk.

In front of which Malfoy was standing, eyebrow quirked and candy cane slipped snugly between his glistening lips.

"Uhh," Harry uttered.

"Good morning to you too, Potter," Malfoy somehow managed to say around the sweetie. He dropped a grey folder on Harry's desk and gave the candy another enthusiastic suck. "Here are the notes on that serial killer case in 1987. You said it might have a link to the Fenstermakker homicide. It could be a copy cat, though."

Harry grinned a little too eagerly. "Thanks!"

Malfoy couldn't help a smirk around the candy cane. "Anytime," he replied quietly before glancing over at Terry. "Is he alright?"

Terry frowned, concerned. "He is acting a bit queer isn't he?"

Harry caught up with the conversation enough to throw a ball of discarded parchment at Terry, but couldn't bring himself to look at Malfoy without blushing. "I'm fine. Just, uhm, hungover from New Year's Eve."

"Hm," Malfoy said and sauntered from the room.

Harry rubbed his hands over his face as Terry snickered.

"Hungover?" Terry muttered.

"You know, for a Ravenclaw," Harry grumbled, "You don't know when to stop talking."

Later, when he'd come back from a meeting with a suspect, there was Pepper-Up on his desk and right then and there, Harry decided that an afternoon of excessive nose-tweaking was worth the secret smile on Malfoy's face as he unwrapped yet another peppermint sweet from its plastic casing.

That was, until Malfoy popped that same candy cane into his mouth and closed his eyes in happiness, eyelashes kissing his high cheekbones and red lips slipping down the sugary sweet.

Harry was half hard within five seconds of watching Malfoy lick the candy cane.

Harry shifted, embarrassed, in his chair and stared as Malfoy let out a little appreciative moan and ran his tongue all the way down and up the spit-slicked cane and then, yeah, now Harry was ready to come.

"Terry?" he squeaked.

"Yes, darling?" Terry asked, shooting a memo into the air and watching it sail out the door before glancing Harry's way. The smirk slipped off his face as soon as he'd seen Harry. "What? What's wrong?"

"What are the side effects of Pepper-Up?" Harry whispered harshly, eyes squeezing shut with the effort not to come in his pants like a third-year.

"Oh, c'mon we learned this in first year!"

"Terry."

"You've got the steam out of the ears, nose-tweaking, increased attention-span, alertness and, here's a good secret—it's great in the bedroom. Your sex-drive doubles or at least increases by half. Never tried it, but—"

"I'mgoingtotheloo!" Harry squawked.

And Terry gawked as Harry scrambled from his chair and waddled ridiculously out of the door, down the hall and into the men's room. Harry slammed his way into a stall and released his throbbing cock from the strict confines of his Auror uniform. He'd taken it in hand and given it a firm squeeze, about to get it over and done with so he could return to his cubicle with the least amount of mortification when the door creaked open and someone walked into the room.

Harry held his breath as the stranger moseyed over to the stalls.

And let it out in one quick gust when the man unlocked his stall with a silent Alohamora and crowded Harry against the side of the stall, the scent of peppermint candy flooding Harry's senses.

"Hey, what—"

"Don't lie to me again, Harry," Draco Malfoy breathed against Harry's ear, the silky smooth command going straight to Harry's cock

"Hnng," said Harry.

Malfoy turned him around, slamming his back against the stall and shoved Harry's trousers and pants further down his thighs. "I've seen you watching me," he sneered, long fingers smooth clever as he wrapped them around Harry's leaking cock. "I've realized how distracting—" He gave Harry's cock a long, slow pull. "—it is when I suck on those candy canes. You hardly get anything done."

Harry grabbed for Draco's shoulder but ended up finding purchase in his hair. Draco grinned and leaned forward, lips ghosting across Harry's, eyes crinkled at the edges. Harry craned his neck and finally, Draco leaned in and kissed him, immediately opening his mouth and lapping at Harry's lips like he did those damned sweets. Encouraged, Harry fumbled with the buckle at Draco's trousers with his free hand, gasping his surprise into Draco's mouth when he'd got his hands around an answering, and quite sizeable, erection. Harry opened his mouth to let Draco in. Peppermint exploded on his tongue and, for once, it wasn't… well, what it was was sexy as hell.

Harry laughed and gave Draco's hair a sharp tug, exposing the column of his neck as Draco gasped and squeezed Harry's cock, fingers faltering as his leaned his forehead on Harry's shoulder. Harry pumped Draco's cock, slightly ensorcelled by the muffled moans Draco was making into the fabric of Harry's Auror uniform.

"You know, if you wanted to have your way with me in a bathroom, you could've just asked instead of poisoning me with Pepper-Up."

"That wouldn't—have been very Slytherin of me, then, would it?"

"I suppose—guh!—not."

Apparently, Draco wasn't as pleased with the situation as Harry was—frankly Harry could do this forever if his dick wouldn't fall off—and bit his neck right under the jaw before leaning back and pushing their cocks together. It was wet and messy and they'd need a fucking excellent Scourgify afterwards but Draco fisted both their dicks in his hand, precum making his fingers glisten. Harry arched into the touch, making Draco make another one of those choked moans again.

"So good. Potter you are one sexy fuck."

"Malfoy—" Harry gurgled, eyes rolling back as he tried to hold off his orgasm.

"You about to come, Harry?"

"Oh, god—fuck!" he could feel the pull, that low tangle of hot pleasure in the pit of his stomach, tightening up like it would snap at any moment.

"Do it," Draco whispered, leaning low to lick into Harry's mouth again.

Harry spasmed, fingers tightening in Draco hair as he held on, trying not to fall to the floor as he came. Draco was still pumping their cocks, but when Harry made a grab for his ass, pulling him as close as possible as he twitched in the aftershocks of orgasm, Draco gasped and came as well.

"Hmm," Harry said contentedly, humming again when Draco kissed him a final time.

"You are full of eloquence today, Auror Potter," Draco snickered.

"Is there ever a time," Harry rasped, petting the back of Draco's head and disentangled their bodies before standing on wobbly legs, "when you are at all incoherent or at a loss for words?"

"Never."

Harry watched Draco Scourgify their clothes, leaving not a trace of mess, and tuck his softened prick into his trousers, smoothing out the wrinkles and tucking his mussed hair behind an ear. He was still glistening with sweat, though, and there was a relaxed quality about him that he'd not had before their… whatever… their tryst.

"We'll see about that," Harry murmured finally, smiling mischievously when Draco's eyes flicked to his.

Draco leaned back into Harry's space, breath less like candy and more like them, together. "Is that an offer, Harry?"

"I think it may be, Draco," Harry answered, tucking himself back in and smoothing the wrinkles out of his uniform.

There was that smile again. "Drinks after work?"

"Dinner."

They crept out of the bathroom, laughing silently when one of their secretaries raised her eyebrows at them and gave them a wink before disappearing down a corridor.

"Well, at least I'll not have to eat those weird candies anymore," Draco muttered as they approached Harry's desk.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"I don't even like them that much, but… You see, three years ago I got them for a gift, and when I noticed your—" Draco waited for Auror Dawlish to pass by before continuing, "—fascination with them I bought them again the next year."

"You did that for me?"

Draco looked away. "Not just for you—it was for my benefit as well, if you don't remember what just happened in the loo."

Terry peeked around his cubicle and smirked. "What just happened in the loo?" he asked loudly.

Harry glared at him.

"You're right, I don't want to know!" he exclaimed and hid back behind his desk.

Harry turned back to Draco, who was eyeing the other cubicles to see if anyone had been listening. When he caught Draco's eye, they shared a wicked smile, and Draco returned to his desk with a bit of a bounce in his step.

Harry was sure to send him a memo about dinner that night, and made a mental note to send Draco more candy canes next Christmas.