A/N: Enjoy your NSFW, ya nasties.
Jk jk! Love you guys! I appologize in advance because I have no idea how to write smut. But yeah, enjoy this bad writing anyway.
When he woke up Draco felt the prickling heat tingle up his spine and the first thought he had was fuck.
Draco has never had an actual heat before. He had presented late, a week after they came back to school. He was never even hit with a heat.
Blaise had come into their shared room one day and scrunched up his nose a little, brows furrowed.
"Draco?" He had asked and Draco raised a brow from where he was sitting on his bed. "Why do you smell so… sweet?"
And that was the end of that.
Draco flipped, and then made Blaise pretty much scent him for an hour before they came to a conclusion: Draco was an omega.
With a curse, Draco went to the library and did all the research and found how to make Dragontail suppressants and Schmetterling Scream.
After that, the only times he's ever felt anything like a heat was a flicker of odd warmth in his belly, aches in his limbs. But nothing like what he'd read about.
Until now.
And somehow, he just knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it alone. Even though he did try to tough it out for the first two hours, dealing with the feeling of utter arousal and frustration and that dampness between his legs and ugh, Harry fucking Potter's scent on his pillow because he just had to steal a pillow for the night, didn't he?
"Draco?" Blaise came into the room, raising a brow at him still burrowed under his blankets. "It's mid-afternoon, don't you think it's time to get up?"
Draco groans, close enough to a whine that it got Blaise's attention. Blaise stopped halfway to him, nose twitching before he covers it.
"Are you..?"
Draco huffs and nods, peeking out from the sheets.
"Yeah…" Draco huffs again, feeling stuffy even without the blankets, sick without being sick. He could still breathe fine, but the heat under his skin made him feel suffocated. Blaise pauses, pursing his lips.
"Do you need me to leave you alone, or..?" Or do you want to go to Potter? Was left unspoken and Draco groaned at the prospect, burying his face in the damn pillow which only made it worse. His body wasn't listening and just the idea of going to Harry's room made him tremble.
Merlin. That sounded like a fucking bloody fantastic idea.
"Please," he tries to sit up, limbs shaky. Blaise made a choking nose, pupils blown.
"Fuck, Draco." He held his breath as Draco's scent settled like a thick blanket of snow in the room. Blaise went to grab a scarf and tied it around his own nose and mouth. "It's a good thing most everyone is at Hogsmeade right now. Merlin.. wrap that around you. We can't have you walking around smelling like a fresh fuck."
Draco whines at that. It was so.. so raunchy to be called that, but he kind of gets it. Draco didn't bother trying to put on extra clothes and wrapped the thick blanket around him, covering up to his neck. He doesn't know how the hell he would hold onto Blaise as they walk but.. well, he wasn't really thinking.
"Good. That's a bit better." Blaise was right next to him, and in the next second Draco yelps at suddenly being picked up bridal style. Draco made a noise that was simply omega and he shuddered. "It'll be faster this way." Draco huffs, shoving his nose into Blaise's neck, letting his scent calm him (but it wasn't the scent he wanted, his omega said).
Blaise practically ran to the Gryffindor dorms, thankfully no one was around to see him arguing with the Fat Lady to let him in.
"I'll just put Draco in Potter's room, okay?" Blaise huffed.
But after, Draco mindlessly pointed (metaphorically) to Harry's room. Once there, Blaise set him on his feet next to the bed and Draco dropped the blanket around him to crawl into the bed and trilled as Harry's scent enveloped him.
Blaise watched him for a moment before writing a note to stick onto the outside of the door and sent a letter to Harry via owl. He stuck around for another few minutes, watching Draco scuttle and pat down the bed and move everything into place.
"Need anything else?"
God. Blaise had been gone for some time now, hasn't he? He means, really, how long does it take to head back to the Slytherin dorms and grab a damn pillow? He didn't really need Blaise's pillow, but he just had this urge to have it in his nest, since Blaise was his best friend and it didn't cross lines, okay? He's heard of omegas stockpiling family's clothing in their nest for comfort.
Even if that was typically done with relatives, but whatever.
Maybe he just needed a small medium to keep his head, considering Harry's scent was filling his lungs and soaking into his pores. Sure, there was a few scant other scents about the room (Ron's, a beta, and Neville's. And though he was an alpha, his scent was pretty mild), but nothing to really distract him from the all encompassing burn.
Draco lets out a whimper, filled with longing and desperation, because he's willingly suffocating himself under the blankets and he was still clothed and they needed to come off pronto. Harry probably wouldn't mind, right? Most people consider their boyfriend of girlfriend waiting naked in their bed a godsend anyway, right? Right.
Draco takes a breath, squirming because he couldn't sit still and he sits up, frustrated with the heat and the full-body itch he felt, desire and need sending him on an emotional rollercoaster. He pulls off his shirt, not bothering with the buttons and sighs as the cool air hits his skin. He hesitated a brief moment when his hands reached his shorts until another wave made his body wracked with a shudder and then they were quickly pulled off the thrown to the floor.
Burrowing back into the sheets, Draco let out a sigh. The cool sheets felt heavenly against his overheated skin. They were a certain type of fabric he'd come to learn about and had goaded Harry into buying them as well (having a rich boyfriend is fantastic). They're soft, and cool, and temperature controlled and stretchy. But shedding his clothes brought minimal relief and he curls up on his side, arm cradled by his legs for comfort and the other massaging into his thigh to serve both as a relief from the muscle cramps and distraction from his very obvious need.
Draco was glad to be here, at least, surrounded by a wall of Harry's scent that just made him feel safe. Though, he doesn't really know how Harry would take it. They didn't even talk about this stuff; heats and ruts and what they would do. Draco was too reserved and Harry was too polite and they hadn't done anything past cuddle buddies and the occasional kiss and make-out, though he does remember Harry had broken up with Ginny sometime in the past months (Harry's good-guy complex wouldn't let him go after Draco while still dating someone).
Draco couldn't have stopped himself from coming here if he had tried (which he really didn't but who cares), and now he was surrounded in Harry's scent, almost drowning in it. It was making his legs turn to jello and a far more pleasant heat pooled in his belly at the thought of him coming back here.
He felt like he desperately needed something, anything, a touch, a kiss, or— something. Preferably, his body told him as he whines as the slick spread on his thighs, someone between his thighs he could crush.
Draco was inexplicably horny, but he daren't touch himself. He didn't often participate in such… debauchery during normal times, and he'd rather not do it until he was literally unable to stop himself from touching. Honestly, he'd rather have Harry take the decisions from him and do whatever he needed to, because beyond that arousal, lay fear and trepidation.
It's his first heat, for one, and two, well… this would be his first time or whatever.
Hey now, just because he's gorgeous and comes from a family with wealth and standing, doesn't mean everyone was flocking to get his attention. Not that he was seeking attention unless it was that of Harry Potter, anyway. He just never got around to it, never really got interested in it.
Draco whimpers, burrowing into one of Harry's pillows, inhaling desperately and squirming for just a little friction.
Gods. This was gonna get bad really fast if Harry didn't come through those doors in the next half hour.
Harry practically ran back to Hogwarts after getting a letter from Blaise of all people. It was simple, and his heart nearly stopped.
Urgent: come to your room ASAP. Draco needs help.
-Blaise
Except, when he got to the portrait, Blaise was already there, leaning back against the railing with a pillow and scarf in his arms.
"Potter." He nods and Harry nods back, confused.
"Uhm what—"
"She won't let me back inside again." Blaise shoves the pillow and scarf into his hands and Harry holds it, making a slight face when Blaise's scent reaches his nose. "Draco's in your room. I suggest you go there now, lock the door and put on a silencing charm." He says, leaving without preamble or explanation. Confused, Harry had no choice but to make his way back up to his dorm.
When he opened the door he froze as Draco's cloying scent settled heavy in his lungs.
What the—
It was the same as ever, just thicker, sweeter, and if he had to say, it prickled under his skin and shot down to his groin and oh fuck. Harry practically slammed the door closed behind him, muttering quick magical locks and silencing charms on the room. Draco jumps a bit at the slam and he poked his head out from under the blankets, hair a mess, milky eyes hazy and unfocused.
"Blaise?" Harry steps up, depositing the pillow and scarf by his head. "Harry." Draco nearly whines, patting the pillow and shoving it in its own corner without much deliberation or thought. The pillow can wait. He's got the real deal in front of him, after all. Gods above, the scent was much better coming from the source.
"Draco," Draco hears him rasp out and as Draco sat up, letting the suffocating blankets pool at his waist and taking a little reprieve at the cool air that met his skin. Draco could only make small, distressed noises, unable to stop himself from being needy; it was a call to his alpha, a wordless plea for help. And it better fucking work. Draco took deep open-mouth breaths, feeling lightheaded and breathless all at once. The heat was insatiable, and he was feeling desperate, what with Draco refusing to touch himself. "Draco," and mmmm does Harry's voice, stretched thin like he's trying to maintain his mind, sound sweet against his ears. "Are you, um… in heat?"
Draco stamped down the urge to snap back, he didn't wanna drive away Harry just because he was feeling particularly bitchy and needy. Especially when he was feeling needy. Instead, he huffs a breath, feeling like his body was producing its own sauna. Besides the slick, though, he wasn't overly sweaty or clammy, which was a weird juxtaposition in and of itself. Couldn't his body like, pick one? Why did he have to feel these contradictory things? Well, Mrs. Pomfrey did warn him his heat would be intense, what with it being the first one and crap, and needing to work out the last of the suppressants or something.
"Oh." Harry says after Draco nods to his question, both taking way longer than needed to answer them, in Draco's opinion. His fingers twitched and gripped the sheets, itching to grab hold of Harry and pull him down into his nest like a spider to its mate. Minus him eating his mate's head after mating, of course. Merlin, what is this heat doing to his typically sound mind? Harry's body temperature typically ran hot, but gods, will those hot hands feel like a cool balm on his skin right now. "Uh. Should I.. leave?"
"Stay." Draco whines, pathetically and without restraint, wanting Harry to just get it and climb into bed. And the only thing Draco can smell besides his own heat scent that lets him know Harry is only asking that out of courtesy is the alpha pheromone filling his senses telling him exactly how interested Harry is.
On the other hand, Harry could barely keep himself in check, because holy mother of Merlin, this was unlike anything he had ever smelled, experienced, or had the pleasure to be around. Draco's scent settled heavy in his lungs, filing them like water and it made his own skin prickle like firecrackers, shooting straight arousal to his groin.
And of course, when Draco sat up his vision swam for a handful of seconds and his mind came to a screeching halt at the expanse of skin that became exposed. Harry couldn't help it— he could feel his mouth water from that display, intentional or not. His eyes trailed down the elegan neck, down over the faint scars on his chest, guilt barely registered in his mind as his eyes drank in the sight, following the path down the sternum to his navel, brain short circuiting once more when a pale hip peeks out from beneath the blankets.
Draco is naked in my bed.
Holy fuck. Holy almighty fuck. Draco is naked in his bed!
"Harry." Draco sighs his name, echoing in his ear and hypnotizing him further. The flush of his skin; his cheeks, down his neck, Harry wonders where else he could be flushed. You don't have to wonder for long, his alpha taunts, promising him he wouldn't be left bereft, and Harry swallows heavily. The scent around him got heavier and headier and the desperate voice shot straight to his dick.
When Harry didn't make a move, Draco whines again and reaches to grab at him. His fingers, though his body radiated heat, were cold. And Harry jumps at the touch, but he does it to lean closer to feel them. His mouth watered, unsure of what to do himself while his alpha told him to mate, mark, claim.
After another desperate whimper and the thickening scent, Harry lurched forward and kissed him. Draco moaned, letting Harry lick into his mouth as he slid a hand into those black, messy locks and holds tight as he falls back, unable to keep himself seated with the sheer want running through him at having Harry so close.
Harry pulls back, Draco protesting until he hears the ruffle of clothes and he lets his body fall limp onto the bed, a rumble starting in his chest at the prospect of what comes next, whatever that was.
Harry strips quickly enough, clumsily shucking off his pants and underwear and turning to the bed to eye Draco— relaxed and open on the bed, legs rubbing against each other under the blanket— and he freezes, a single thought coming through.
Does Draco even know what he's doing?
"Um, Draco?" Harry asks even though he was naked and his cock was fricken hard. "A-are you sure?"
Draco whimpers, pushing himself up to lean back against his arms, feeling like he had to say this because, is Harry for real?!
"If I didn't want to be here, don't you think I would've stayed in my room? On the other side of Hogwarts?!" He says heatedly, panting as he falls back, faintly regretting spending energy on that outburst. And okay, he had a point.
But they hadn't talked about anything like this and he just had some reservations about this.
However, he also can't say no to a sweet-smelling, practically begging Draco that crawled into his bed naked and was now splayed out like a buffet just for him, sooo.
Excuse Harry while he ignores his typical ask questions first, get into bed later style of love-making. Harry got on the bed under the blankets, feeling Draco's accumulated heat and heart thudding at the intensity of it. He sees goosebumps prickle Draco's skin when he was fully exposed to the air, but nevertheless, the heat seemed unbearable.
How was he not trying to crawl out of his skin?
Draco's legs fell apart once they've felt Harry dip into the mattress, sighing once he finally got at least a fraction of what he needed.
Harry glides one hand up his thigh, over his hips, and up his chest while he kisses him deeply again. Feeling him up just because. Draco's hands went back to Harry's hair, gripping tight and moaning into his mouth between his panting, unable to figure if he should try and breathe or keep kissing. Draco's nails bit into his scalp like Harry would even think of escaping. It was pretty adorable.
When Harry pulled back, Draco let out a cry of distress.
"Wait, I have to get the lube.." Harry pants, though he didn't want to get out either. Draco groaned in frustration, keeping him still. Though, to be fair, Harry wasn't even trying to escape his clutches to get said instrument.
"We don't need any.." Draco mumbled, practically pouting. Harry makes a questionable sound and Draco seemed even more embarrassed, face flushing a different kind of red that had nothing to do with his heat as he takes one of his hands and feels around for Harry's. He drags Harry's hand down the length of his body, bypassing his need (god that looked like it hurt), and settled his fingers between those milky thighs.
Harry blinks, dragging his fingers in the wetness there and brushing past his entrance, making Draco cry out and tremble. He brings up his hand to observe the clear substance, finding it sticky, yet smooth. And without a thought, he plopped then into his mouth and promptly groaned.
Draco trembled under him as he savored the taste. Sweet and hot and sending his nerves on fire.
Oh yeah, they definitely won't need any lube.
"It's slick.." Draco huffs out, pulling Harry to kiss because he'd been gone too long, too far gone to really think about how probably disgusting it was to taste himself on Harry's tongue.
"It is,"
"No, it's called slick.." Draco explains, embarrassed. "And uhm.. c-can you… this is gonna be my first time.."
"First time for..?" Harry prods, not really connecting the dots.
"Anything." Draco murmurs out and Harry's brain stops to a monetary halt. "J-just.. be gentle, please?" And it wasn't like Draco cared about first times and sex how other people put importance on it, but like, hey, he knows he'll be a wreck during and after his heat, but he'd rather not be like.. well.. You know what? Never mind. Draco will settle for being completely wrecked, not like his mind will tell him to stop as he feels the edges of his sanity and trepidation and hesitancy and everything else burn away like fire burns at paper, leaving only Harry and his presence and the wonderful way his hips were wide to demanded space between Draco's thighs.
Harry dove back into the kiss with renewed vigor, finally pressing his body down on Draco's to give him some relief, though he didn't really know what good his heated body would help Draco. But Draco just moaned and bucked against him, even if more reserved about it. Harry broke the kiss to kiss down his neck, licking and sucking harshly on his skin, especially on the scent glands, cause Draco to cry out loudly, back arching.
Harry didn't stop, though, even when he felt the stickiness coating his stomach from Draco's release. Draco's chest heaved with his harsh breathes as Harry lapped at his nipples, peaking them up to pretty pink-bitten peaks.
Drunk off the scent and hazed by his own arousal, Harry makes quick work of one hand to slide between Draco's legs again, swirling in circles just near his twitching virgin hole. Draco cries out, whole body trembling in anticipation as his cock springs to life again. Harry kisses him deeply, distracting him with the kiss as he slides a finger in.
Draco's back bows beautifully. He's panting harshly, like there wasn't enough oxygen, and Harry groans at the tight wet heat enveloping his finger.
"Merlin." Harry hisses, needing to take all his concentration at keeping gentle thrusts when all he really wanted was to ram into him. Christ, his own ruts were never this intense. When Draco was practically begging for more, little unconscious whimpers, giving sharp nips at his neck and ear, Harry added another finger and spread them, curled them, did near everything until Draco was coming again. Harry felt his grip on himself slip by when he added a third finger, Draco's body finding no rest as he works him open.
For a moment, Harry feels overwhelmed by gratitude, of all things. That Draco would be granting him not only sharing his heat, but also being his first.
Harry pulls back from the kiss, groaning when he realized Draco only continued to leak slick the more his fingers worked him open. He might even have to buy a new mattress. But fuck it all for now.
"I got you," Harry parrots the words he said when he first led a newly blind Draco to the infirmary as he lines himself up and with great self control, pushes in the tip.
Draco's body trembled non-stop, his nails caught in his scalp and shoulder. Harry moaned, finally feeling that pressure on his dick. Despite his coiled muscles he took it agonizingly slow, kissing Draco through his whimpers and half-pleases for something he didn't even know what.
By the time he was seated balls-deep inside him, Harry was panting with the exertion of keeping it slow. Both of them sharing their labored breaths, eating up each other's scent and somehow it made it all the hotter when Harry finally decided to freakin' move.
He pulled out, and then slid back in like a well fitted sword in a sheath. Draco's breath caught as he moaned and it was adorable, body curled around Harry's; legs around his waist bruisingly tight, arms around his neck to keep him close, pressing open-mouthed kisses and half-hearted bites on his neck. Draco's thighs flexed and strained with the effort, and Harry sped up once he felt Draco flex around him, felt his hips roll by themselves.
Baser instincts rose up, not quite completely overtaking his control, but enough that he didn't have to actively think about how to make Draco feel good. His hips pistoned when Draco's breath staccatoed, pulled out and pressed back in with languid strokes to give Draco time to breath after release. Harry pressed kisses, sucking bruises onto that pale neck that was all his, spreading his own scent into the epidermis of his skin like there was even the slightest chance that everyone wouldn't know they've coupled (but his alpha wasn't gonna leave that to chance).
Harry was actually amazed he lasted as long as he did (though he wasn't the greatest judge of time right now), but when he finally fucked in the last couple inches of his bulging knot into Draco's willing, pliant, soft, fucking delicious body, he growled possessively into his neck, stopping short of actually breaking skin to mate them indefinitely. Draco's cry echoed in his ear and his body trembled, nails scratching streaks along his shoulder, pulsing around him like Draco's body was urging him to give all his seed (and in a time where he was level-headed, Harry would be worried about the repercussions of not wearing a condom. But be that as it may, he could scarcely give a fraction of a thought to that situation).
Draco's chest rumbled with a purr, a constant, steady vibration against Harry's chest. His legs relaxed and fell to either sides of Harry, his body losing its rigidity. Harry watches in awe, kissing Draco sweetly until he felt him slacken with sleep and Harry pressed kisses to his cheeks, his brow, to the spot just under his ear where that heat scent was still coming in thick waves. Even as Draco sleeps, his chest crackled with a purr, stilted and random. Harry presses yet another kiss to just under his ear because he could, feeling the heat of Draco's body lessen just a fraction. Though with the intense, thick scent, they were far from done.
Heat made Draco less shy. His body knew what it wanted: to be fucked into oblivion and beyond, and after the first hour of being fucked, Draco's hesitancy about any of it was nonexistent. Harry took care of him very nicely. Even when Draco doesn't really remember moments of intensity, completely engulfed in his heat-craze as he was, he knew Harry would treat him right and take care of him.
Past the heat, his he felt a zing along his skin, leaving him in continuous post-orgasmic bliss 100% of the time and it felt like a constant. So when he realized he was on his knees, Harry's hands smoothing down his lower spine, and with every thrust there was a cowing pressure on his prostate, he really couldn't find it in himself to care. Harry could have him any and every way he wanted, so long as he kept on doing what he was doing.
Draco was nearly bend double, chest pressed into the mattress close to his knees, and he briefly wonders, through the heat and fuzziness, when the hell he got so flexible. But then Harry was pushing back into him with a growl and he just feels so full and content that he thanks his lucky stars his body was made to be taken. His throat was probably going to be sore from all the noises he was making, and he probably wouldn't be able to move afterwards, but that's a problem for future Draco.
Harry's body bows over his, grinding into him. His hands move from pressing his middle down to grope at his highs, his chest, and before Draco knew it, he was lifted from his bended position. Harry's hot breath fanned along his neck, his growl sending shivers of anticipation down his spine and Draco tilted his head to the side to give him more room.
At the same time he felt heat bloom within him, burning hotter than his heat, he felt the stark contrast of pain blossom in his shoulder and he cried out, making a mess of the bed with his release. Harry's jaw locked onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder and come time when his heat subsides, Draco will be grateful it happened at the height of his heat, because the pain was immense and he'd never read any kind of book that talked about the pain of a mate mark and the venom soaking deep into his skin to make sure it scars and takes.
Draco could feel the little dribbles of blood bubbling and escaping the puncture wounds around Harry's teeth; feels them rolls over his collar bones and drip off his chest, no doubt ruining the sheets he likes so much further. Harry keeps his growl to a minimum and it vibrates against Draco's back pleasantly, a possessive hand coming to rest at his distended belly, swollen with seed. Draco doesn't think Harry would take kindly to being grabbed by his hair at the moment, so Draco settles for putting a hand over Harry's on his stomach, panting harshly to catch his breath. He couldn't help it in the end, when Harry still hadn't let go of his neck, Draco reached his free hand up, fingers skimming along Harry's neck to cup the back of it, tugging him ever closer.
Being blind had its benefits, though, as it heightened Draco's awareness of touch and sound and smell tenfold, leaving his mind that much blown throughout their coupling. When Harry's jaw finally unhinges and Draco feels those teeth pull from the groves in his skin, he whines but keeps him close. Harry's tongue comes to wipe at the wound, cleaning up the blood with gentle licks once he moves them to their sides, Draco only minimally complaining non-verbally about being tugged around until they've settled. More licks to his neck, a rumble against his back, and Draco couldn't help but purr back in contentment as the fringes of his mind dissipate.
Draco sucks in a soft breath as he feels Harry's hands trace the wound on his shoulder. It hurt, not by that much, but Harry seemed hesitant about it, which is understandable. They hadn't really talked about it, and it wasn't like they could go up and break the bond without either of them dying or something equally as over-the-top. It had just been.. in the moment. It seemed right. Harry was quiet for another moment, fingertips tracing between the ring of teeth marks.
"... I—"
"Don't." Draco cuts him off. He'd rather not have him apologizing, like it was an accident when Harry had been actively pursuing him for a relationship. They were both laying on their sides, Harry probably suffocating under the mounds of blankets Draco had them under; the tail-end of his heat had seen to it to rob him of all internal warmth, it seemed. Heads on the pillow, Blaise's pillow, funny enough (he'll have to gift Blaise with a bloody fantastic new pillow), facing each other, and he just knew Harry was staring at him with this look of something. Something like not quite regret, not pity, but nevertheless worried Draco would blow up at the decision that was made at the height of his heat, when they were both too high off hormones to think properly.
Harry's fingers still on his neck, holding his breath and Draco sighs, raising a hand to his neck, trapping Harry's hand against his neck as it tried to retreat and even though it kind of hurt, he felt he needed to do it. It stung, more from the sweat on Harry's palm than the pressure on the wound. Harry's hand stills, fingers twitching against his skin and holding his breath.
But Draco didn't really do anything besides hold Harry's hand there, feeling the sting and tug on the punctures. A stirring of his soul, at peace; like a bridge had been forged between himself and Harry, and he wonders if Harry could feel it too. The myths he read said a bond could let them know what each other is feeling, if they were in danger, and how to find them. And maybe Harry couldn't feel it because Draco hadn't marked him back. That was okay, too, Draco could bite him next heat, or Harry's next rut.
Draco opens his eyes; a useless but habitual movement.
"If I had to choose between you and some random alpha Father chose from inside Azkaban, I'd choose you anyway." Draco closes his eyes again, relishing in the light pain in his shoulder from Harry putting pressure on just so. Draco opens his eyes again, because by now he knows Harry likes them, creepy-looking and all. "I'm glad it was you."
The next thing he knows is Harry's lips were on his; gentle and loving as he always is, but still no less passionate than they had been tangled up hours before. By Merlin, he was sure they needed to burn this room to ashes, Draco's scent was everywhere.
But because Draco was Draco, and he couldn't just leave it at that, he said, as Harry pulled back,
"If you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it and tell everyone you were on magic shrooms."
Harry laughs, kissing him again. He was, not oddly enough, quite alright with that. He was far from okay to keep this side of Draco to himself, he was ecstatic. No one else really needed to know how sweet he can be but Harry, and that was fine by him.