To Harry’s credit, he didn’t pause for long upon seeing Draco’s skin, making Draco accept the kiss all the more eagerly because of it. He knew that Harry regretted what he had done, that much had been clear in his expression, but there was no reason for either of them to linger upon it.<br/>Even in the years before the war properly broke out, things had been different for Draco and Harry compared to other teenagers, neither of them having been afforded the possibility to fully just live. While Draco admittedly had gotten more of a life than Harry had ever been afforded, they had both been given too much and too heavy responsibility too young.<br/>In lieu of an answer to a question that Harry hadn’t asked, Draco helped get the shirt off him before burying his fingers in Harry’s hair, not wanting to feel sorry for himself for any reason whatsoever. It was many years in the past and they both knew exactly what had happened, there was absolutely nothing more to say about it, at least not in Draco’s opinion.<br/>Instead, Draco carefully moved backwards, not wanting to discourage Harry’s ministrations, but also knowing that they couldn’t stay at the edge of the bed all night.