It was a teenage fantasy Harry hadn’t had, a feeling of déjà vu to something that hadn’t ever existed. Draco reached for Harry in a way that played with his poor depth perception, blurring it all into a dreamy haze. Just like Draco hadn’t existed like this in Harry’s youth, neither had he experienced this sense of indulgent ease.<br/>It was so easy meeting Draco’s touch halfway, leaning forward as the other reached for him.<br/>Draco’s hand caught him by his shoulder, and Harry turned to press a kiss to the unmarked skin of his forearm, an inch below the dip of his elbow.<br/>Harry found his balance in Draco, once again meeting his lips in a starved kiss.