Harry relaxed back onto the mattress and into Draco’s touch. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, the way a simple brush across his chest seemed to filter in an out of sensitivities, the Horcrux scar almost entirely devout of feeling. While it caused no discomfort, Harry felt hyper aware of the different reactions the scar invoked in people, all seeming to come down to their relation to the war. Harry had experienced anything from pity to reverence, both opposites equally uncomfortable.<br/>The first time Harry had undressed in front of Draco, the other had seemed personally mortified but professionally interested; now, Draco’s expression barely wavered, the scar seeming to be the last thing on Draco’s mind.<br/>It made Harry’s mouth go dry, finding that shared moment unexpectedly tender.<br/>"No," Harry agreed softly, his hands finding Draco’s shirt collar to undo the first button. This<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>new, his heart skipping a beat as another button revealed that, in contrary to Harry, the shirt was the only layer Draco was wearing. "This is better."