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summary: in which; it's Harry's twenty-ninth birthday and all you want is to please him.
trigger warnings: sexual content, mature themes.
word count: 9.5k
includes: oral (male receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, written in the second person.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Today was Harry's birthday.
The man would be turning twenty-nine, and although Harry had asked for no fuss to be made about the occasion, the importance of getting the day right was not lost on you. This was his first birthday that you would be celebrating as a couple, and you adored the notion of celebrating a day dedicated to your love.
When you had previously asked the man what he wanted for such a unique, once-a-year occasion, his only response was that he wished to spend a day doting on you. The statement was unexpected, for you figured that Harry's had enough birthdays to know that they were supposed to be about him, not you, and yet the man managed to melt what solidity was left of your heart by making such a claim. His constant doting, which you thought you had pleasurably gotten used to over the numerous months of your relationship, was something he cherished enough to have been the foundation of his birthday. You found it very endearing, but nonetheless, would not allow for it to alter the basis of February first. The day was meant to be all about him, and you were determined to have it go well.
In the days leading up to the occasion, you ensured that both of your schedules were clear, for you would rather perish than ignore Harry's sole birthday wish. You took a sick day, cancelled appointments and generally cleared the books to make sure the entirety of his twenty-ninth birthday could be spent together. You had teased him with statements along the lines of aren't birthdays so special? If only yours was sooner... or teasing inquiries such as did you know that your birthday's coming up soon? Three days, H, so soon! It was what had the days passing by quicker and, before you knew it, February first had arrived. The day that was dedicated to someone who deserved far more.
"Happy birthday, Harry,"
You did your best to blink the sleep from your eyes before waking Harry up with sweet kisses and gentle touches. The loving statement had been said once you were coherent enough, moments later, and it was what brought Harry from his peaceful rest beside you. With his cheek pressed into the sleep-flattened pillow and his other dotted in post-kiss wet marks, a smile slowly curled at the corner of his lips. It brought sunshine into the room and if a sight could bring singing cherubs, you were certain that this was it. Sleepy, hair-mused, birthday boy Harry.
"Thank you, sweetheart," The appreciation was hummed in the form of a content rumble, voice gravelly from fatigue and lack of use throughout the night. "'M lovin' it already, thanks t'you."
