Moving more comfortably on the bed, Harry straightened his posture, sitting back on his knees to reach further down Draco’s chest. Somewhere between Draco’s breath catching as he spoke, and the grip of his hair, the balance had tipped for Harry. Having had every intention of going through Grimmauld Place for a change of clothes, that was pitifully abandoned when Harry placed a few kisses down Draco’s sternum.<br/>“I don’t think I could,” he admitted with a chuckle, his voice low and muddled as it reverberated against Draco’s skin; Harry hadn’t looked up to face Draco while saying it.<br/>His hands left the mattress, his balance having shifted far enough that they could find greater purpose at Draco’s sides, one lingering at his ribs while using the other to brace himself against Draco’s hip, hand above the covers.<br/>That suddenly felt like an issue.<br/>The moment Harry adjusted that grip, a sense of purpose bubbled to the surface of his movements as he tugged the sheets a few inches down to kiss Draco below the line of his waist.<br/>“You’re so good like this,” he mused with a smile, a compliment wrapped into a justification Harry didn’t really need to speak.