The particular phrasing of Draco’s response made Harry’s skin flush, reminded of just how good this was when it was simply fun. The sense of dread their intimacy carried the first few times they slept together had slowly but steadily given way for an ease Harry couldn’t properly account for, but which made his stomach flip whenever he saw it in the curve of Draco’s smile.<br/>“Alright,” he parroted, his intention matter-of-factly though he could barely contain the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.<br/>Bracing himself against Draco’s hip, Harry leaned in to cross the last distance between them. The smile was wide on his lips when he pressed a kiss to the line of Draco’s neck.<br/>“You should wear something pretty,” he urged with the airiness of a laugh building in his throat, self-aware and self-indulgent.<br/>When he leaned back, it instead showed as a boyish promise on his expression, unhooking himself from Draco’s embrace to finally sit up straight. “It’s your birthday, yeah?”