Potter's magnificent eyes widened at soft, sure lips wrapping around his cock. He was fully hard in seconds, and gripped the back of Draco's neck.

Draco knelt back, eager to get to the end in case they were missed. Droplets of water twinkled on Harry's eyelashes, and he looked vulnerable without his glasses. He adored Harry's thick muscled thighs, firm chest, the V of his trailing hair.

Pouring lubricant on his fingers, Draco reached back behind to prepare himself. Harry stroked Draco's cock and kissed him all the while.

He lined himself up, and nudged Harry's cock against his entrance. Harry gasped into the kiss, gripped Draco's thighs, and let life happen to him.

Sinking down, he bit his lip in concentration, and threw his unmarked forearm over his eyes. "Breathe," Harry reminded him.

Easing downwards—gently, slowly—he didn't really do this, let alone inside him. He felt every inch of Harry and stilled, fully seated.

It was too much.

Harry slid his hands over Draco's wet back, drawing them together in a tight embrace. "Is it…" Perfect. Complete. "…all right?" asked Harry.

He gifted Harry a chaste kiss. "Yes," he said huskily.

This was not just sex. This was not just a phase.

He moved, and Harry rocked with him, stroking him from the inside. He pushed back sopping hair from Harry's forehead, and swiped away the water dripping into his eyes. Draco kissed his scar.

He slid up and impaled himself, over and over. Harry's eyes glazed over and he couldn't tear his gaze away from Draco. The water splashed as Harry planted his feet into the ground to thrust up deeper. He admired Harry's core tensing and flexing as much as the desperation written on his face.

Harry kissed his chest, his pecs, before Draco grabbed him by the chin to draw him into a sloppy kiss. They breathed heavily against each other. "Touch yourself," Harry whispered. The pattering of the shower masked their laboured breathing.

His orgasm quickly built, higher and higher, one hand on the nape of Harry's neck, the other around his cock. He gasped, electrified, tensing and thrusting his hips as he came, over and over, finishing onto Harry's stomach.

They stilled while Draco recovered. Opening his eyes, he drank in the pleasured flush on Harry's cheeks, and he started to move again for Harry's pleasure. Face contorting in ecstasy, Harry sped up, forehead to forehead, Draco's arms wrapped around him. He could tell Harry was near. Harry controlled the pace. His lips were kissed red. Draco's hips hurt where Harry's fingers gripped them. Shuddering, Harry pulsed, tensed, and came with a long groan.

He took a moment to observe Harry—sated, relaxed, lovely.

Then, Draco lifted himself off, but Harry pulled him sideways onto his lap so he could nuzzle into the crook of Draco's shoulder.

Collecting a puddle of hot water into his palms, he rinsed his come off Harry's stomach.

He summoned his wand, and murmured, "Reparo," to mend Harry's glasses. Without disentangling himself from Harry, Draco slid them up his nose and tucked the arms behind his ears. Harry smiled up at him dreamily, and ran his fingers through Draco's soaked hair.

His heart stuttered.

"We must go," said Draco.

Potter cleared his throat and dropped his hand. "Yeah, we need to start work. This has been…" Perfect. Wonderful. "…a welcome distraction."

He shut off the shower and summoned Potter's towel.

"Oi. Save a dry corner for me."

Draco towelled himself, cast a Drying Charm on the towel, and threw it to Potter.

He wanted to kiss him goodbye. "Don't be late for work," he said.

Potter gave him an inscrutable look and did not reply.