Harry was certain he had yet to experience Draco this open, his expressions stripped of any inhibitions by alcohol, and there, in the honesty of his gaze, Harry saw a glimmer of emotions he had thought were his alone.<br/>It made his smile wobble, above all feeling unsure it wasn’t just a trick of the eye, or simply a reflection of the love he knew he had for Draco. Still, it took hold of the pit of Harry’s stomach, and in that moment, he didn’t have it within him to explore it, fearing what he could risk ruining if he went looking for it.<br/>Instead, Harry sought out what he knew, allowing the weight of Draco’s arms to draw him closer. Burying his face into the crook of Draco’s neck, he needed to convince himself that he had been mistaken. Intent on pushing that line of thought aside, perhaps indefinitely, he pressed a kiss to Draco’s bare skin. There, Draco didn’t smell of the pub but of himself, and this, just this, was so familiar and safe to Harry, and he wanted nothing more than to get to stay in it.<br/>“Yeah?” he asked, feeling a little faint despite the tease he willed to his voice. Harry kissed him again, this time where his neck met his shoulder, a selfish distraction. “Is that why I haven’t been allowed back to work?”