Yes, Chef

Tuesday went perfectly, Harry’s favorite wine pairing being a rosè that was paired with the Gulab Jamun. He did rather like how his mango chutney had turned out while paired with a vegetable samosas seeing how it balanced out the spices he had added. For the first time as well, since they both required to be marinated, and he could trust his sous after a trial run- not that he doubted him or anything, Rich did come from a fine dining restaurant in New York State and had moved here upon needing a change of scenery- he decided to put on not just the singular main dish, but two so the guests could choose. 

Harry had been so amused at Ron who nearly gulped a glass of water, face flushed red, despite the more palatable Vindaloo that was going to be served this week to please the masses so he didn't get every dish sent back for being so spicy, that he almost missed Draco plucking the last piece of untouched naan on his place. 

“Hey! Black! Did you just steal my naan?” Harry asked, looking absolutely bewildered.

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Draco drawled as he popped the piece of bread into his mouth with a grin. “You must be imagining things. Maybe we should take you to St. Mungo’s to make sure you didn't hit your head?”

“He must've hit his head if he thinks this vindaloo is palatable! Bloody hell Harry!” Ron exclaimed, shoving some basmati rice and butter chicken into his mouth. Draco made a face at the action, nose wrinkling.

“Do slow, Weasley. We don't want you to choke while you shovel more food into your impossibly expanding stomach,” Draco said while Hermione finally noticed her husband's actions, previously being distracted by chatting with Pansy, and hitting him over the head which did cause Ron to almost choke. 

“This isn't your mums, Ron. Would it kill you to eat properly?” Hermione chided, a soft and fond look in her gaze. Ron made a muffled noise before slowing down his eating. Harry felt his heart warm as he glanced around the table.

This is exactly why he opened Canis, Lupus, Et Cervum. The group in front of him was an odd mix, but he wouldn't want to share his culinary profoundness with anyone else. 

Draco, noticing everyone mainly now chatting after the delicious almost puffy pastry drowned in rose water, spelled everyone's glasses clean preemptively. 

“Anyone interested in another glass? I’ve got  a bottle from home that was sent to me to try by a vineyard in Argentina. They wanted me to try their 2004 Pinot Noir to see if I would be interested in ordering a case,” Draco said, stretching his arms above his head a little bit, long legs knocking into Harry’s as he did so. Draco released a little groan as something popped before reaching into his bag to pull out the bottle, an aloof expression softening his features. 

Harry had absolutely no clue what Draco just said because he was too busy tracking how Draco's midnight blue jumper had exposed just a small piece of milky white skin as the left side rode up when he stretched. The jumper itself had been a distraction through the night as it was clearly a size or two too big and would occasionally fall off the others shoulder slightly while he moved. The soft cashmere fabric looked warm and seemed to drape like soft waves down the man's slim frame and Harry was quite interested in what was underneath. The grey muggle jeans that seemed to almost hug his arse didn't help Harry get Draco out of his mind either… or the way he had his hair down and it looked like a fine sheet of silk that flowed just past his shoulders…

It wasn't like Harry was a bad looking bloke. Everyone did remind him how handsome he had become and a lot of his partners enjoyed that he wasn't too muscular, but nicely toned with broad shoulders, a slim waist, and his black curls that he mostly had pulled back in a half up, half down bun or half tied back… he really needed to get a haircut. They seemed to love the tattoos he began getting in America and how they looked when he moved his arms while-

“Harry, darling, are you listening? Did you want some more wine?” Pansy asked, fixing him with a wolfish grin as Harry's eyes snapped to hers from where he was still staring at the spot that had ridden up on Draco’s jumper and finding it was now covered once more. 

“Er.. yes, wine. Please,” Harry said, feeling his brain short circuit. Ron snorted while Blaise and him shared a look and Draco had one perfect eyebrow raised in questioning before pouring the wine. 

“Maybe he really does have brain damage,” Ron joked and Draco flashed the red head a winning smile. 

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“Harry! Your hair, mate!” Ron said, looking baffled when Harry floo called him late on Thursday night. Harry looked sheepish.

“It was getting to be a pain to detangle and style. I wore most of it back anyways. Why? Does it look bad? Blaise said it made me look sexy , but I'm not sure to take Zabini’s word for it. Draco refused to comment, but Goldstein liked it… he replaced old mixologist last year you know,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. 

His hair, instead of shoulder length and progressively getting hard to handle, was now a bit shortened, but artfully tousled. He didn't think it was too short to be reminiscent of how he looked as a child. His hair was curled a bit around his ears, still messy and a lot of them, and brushed the nape of his neck. 

“No- that's not it, mate. It looks brilliant! Say, did you say the ferret didn't comment on your hair?” Ron asked with a knowing look. 

“Well we do work together,” Harry replied, not catching on to at all what Ron was implying. 

“Mate, since when do you care what he thinks of your hair?” He gently pressed. 

“What do you mean? We work together, of course I'm going to ask him.”

“ Harry .”

“ Ron.”

“You are impossible-”

“Oh! Are you finally asking Harry about Draco, Ron?” Harry heard Hermione through the floo, although slightly muffled. 

“What does she mean ‘ask me about Draco?’” Harry asked, furrowing his brows. 

“Never mind that,” Ron said, brushing Harry off, “What's up? Little late in’it?” 

“Well maybe it's late for you …”

Harry sighed. “I just wanted to check in with you honestly… I feel like we haven't gotten to speak too much over the past week,” he admitted. We watched Ron’s face soften a bit. 

“I know mate, it's alright. You're busy running one of the most famous wizarding restaurants and planning a six month long study on different restaurants. It's okay, really. I honestly thought you were calling to discuss how you were rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy,” Ron mused and Harry gaped. “It's almost like sixth year again, but we're adults, there's no wars, and hormones,” he laughed. 

“ What do you mean becoming rapidly obsessed with Draco Malfoy? And he goes by Black now!” Harry choked out. Sure, Draco was fit, but there was no way the tickling feeling in his stomach was returned by Draco and he wasn't becoming obsessed! “What do you mean by sixth year? I can't read your mind!” Harry said, trying to break through Ron's laughing. 

“Mate, it was always “Malfoy is up to something” or “Malfoy and his stupid hair” and you practically stalked the bloke in sixth year and then saved him from sure incarceration after the war,” Ron said. 

“Well he was up to something! I was right on that one.”

“Mate, I think you're more oblivious than me and I spent almost seven years pining after ‘Mione.”

“I'm not oblivious! I'm not pining if that's what you're implying, this is ridiculous! You sound just like Blaise,” Harry said, pouting slightly. 

“Well maybe Blaise is on to something. What's that- oh, Harry, ‘Mione’s calling. I've got to go, but let's grab a pint or something soon, yeah?” Ron said before backing up from the floo. 

“Yeah, alright. ‘Night Ron,” Harry said, ending the connection. He dusted himself off a bit before making his way to his room, stripping his clothes off as he went. Once nestled in bed, his mind wandered a bit trying to connect the dots his four friends kept implying and what he was missing. Harry didn't even realize he had dozed off until his alarm chirped, waking him up on Friday morning. 

Harry groaned and set about heating the shower, scratching his chest while he looked in the mirror, staring at the couple of tattoos that were visible in the fog of the mirror. The lily that was done by a muggle tattoo artist with fine line work stood proud above his heart, his snake that was designed to curl from the top of his shoulder just to just above the juncture of his neck and collarbone flicking its tongue in hello on his neck. Harry stepped into the shower after shucking his pants off and let the warm water cascade down and roll off his body. 

His thoughts wandered a bit, letting the water relax him as he thought of grey eyes and pale hands snaking around his body from behind. Harry let out a groan as he felt himself starting to get hard, cursing under his breath. He pushed the thoughts out of his brain as he grasped his cock in his calloused hand and gave a couple of teasing tugs before smearing the pre-come around the tip.

 He brought his other arm up, bracing himself on the shower wall with his head dipped as he began to stroke in earnest. His mind began to wander without him even realizing it, thinking of a pale shoulder that would look delicious decorated in the red bruises Harry would nip there. He thought about long legs, spread open for him as his fingers curled into that tight heat, pressing and brushing that bundle of nerves that would make Draco squirm and press down, wanting more. He thought about how flushed that pale skin would become with a thin sheen of sweat dampening the skin, the scent of lavender engulfing Harry completely. 

He began to stroke quicker as he began to think about one hand wrapped loosely around that pale neck, not pressing to constrict air but enough to show who was in control as a fucked into that pure heat with Draco Black begging for Harry to go harder. 

Harry’s vision whited out as he came, panting heavily as he watched it swirl down the drain. As he came back to himself, he almost immediately pounded his fist once in the wall, biting his lip hard because he hadn't intended on visioning the other man with his elegant fingers scraping down Harry’s back while he wanked. 

Harry, in that moment, knew he was absolutely fucked .

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Harry tried to act as normal as possible. It was totally normal to be attracted to a fit bloke like Draco despite him being his childhood bully. 

Harry really hoped it was normal.

Harry managed to escape both couples questioning glances as he progressively spaced out more and more while looking at Draco during those weekly tastings. It wasn't like Draco was making it any easier either. 

Because it was all Draco's fault.

Draco who started wearing his hair down and framed his face perfectly- Harry wanted to grab it and pull his head back to bare his neck to him . Draco who began wearing posh oversized jumpers when they all hung out on their off days whether it was for a tasting or planning- he wanted to push it up and see the expanse of the other man's chest that it covered . Draco with the dainty wrists- that he wanted to hold above his head - and tight fitting slacks and jeans and makeup - that Harry wanted to be smudged from tears of pleasure . 

Draco Black was bloody gorgeous and Harry just proceeded like nothing was amiss. 

But now… now Harry was in Italy with the very bloke he's been fantasizing about and his two best friends as they sit and bask in the last of summer warmth provided by the mediterranean. The ocean lapped the stony cliff some few hundred meters away, air saturated with the smell of salt water and warm fragrant fruits as they took vineyards surrounding them.

The wizarding village in Livorno was beautiful and tucked away on the coast and old magic swirled through the air with soft caresses on their skin. Pansy had an oval pair of black sunglasses perched on her nose, her black hair pulled up and fastened with a white claw clip. Her lipstick was a dark red and was spelled not to leave smudges on the wine glass that she had in a lazy grip, almost in a daring way considering she was wearing a beautiful white sundress that had a bodice that tightened around her waist with a corset back before flowing into the skirt that had small embroidered flowers. Blaise on the other hand was stressed in a black polo, silver chain dripping from his neck. He had pressed black slacks with a black belt that had silver snakes on it and dragonhide shoes. 

Harry was wearing a cotton button down bowling shirt with a black and white toute la v print by a muggle fashion designer named Valentino, a shirt Hermione got him a few years back to try and get him to dress better, mind you, and it  was tucked into black fitted trousers. The first button was undone to show the golden chain that hung from his neck that had a little golden charm in the shape of a knife on it. Harry’s own sunglasses were pushed up into his hair, Blaise insisting he looked like some sort of tanned sex god when he saw Harry’s outfit before they portkeyed to Italy that morning. 

Draco however looked absolutely ravishing . 

His white blond hair was draped over his shoulders and he was wearing a shimmering dark green short sleeve that hugged him tightly, accenting his toned figure. His shirt was tucked into white straight legged trousers that flared a bit at rhe bottom, a brown belt with a gold clasp tastefully pulling the outfit together. His brown leather shoes shone, and his eyes were dusted with a sparkling, golden eyeshadow that made his silver eyes pop. His golden rings clinked with the wine glass each time he shifted it between his fingers and his face started getting a slight dusting of freckles as the sun kissed his face. His lips were a little glossy from a clear lip gloss Pansy had forced on him and spelled it so it didn't stick to the glass. His dark mark was greyed and splotchy in color, the sun catching a scar in the middle of it that Harry didn’t ask about then because this was the first time he had seen Draco without sleeves and didn't want to make the other uncomfortable. What he did comment on was how beautiful the small intricate tattoo cuffed around his right wrist was which, Draco informed him, that they were Narcissus flowers for his mother. 

Draco looked so bloody hot that it was unfair, looking like a 70s sex icon out of Miami. 

Harry's seen some movies- so what?

“So when we go to America, am I allowed to wear one of those shirts with pineapples and palm trees? I think they sometimes have coconuts or flowers on them,” Blaise mused, sipping on what was their sixth glass of wine seeing how this was the third and final vineyard. They had taken a sobering potion after each one, Harry doesn't even want to know what it was doing to his liver, because Draco insisted after a while they wouldn't be able to tell what was good wine if they were all drunk. Harry did manage to get him to agree not to make them take it after this one as they were due for their dinner reservation soon at Il Vigneto, a small muggle restaurant with a Michelin star that was nestled into the cliffs of Livorno. There was an even smaller wizarding section of the restaurant where Harry had to offer the equivalent of 250 galleons to book on such short notice. 

Harry snorted. “Absolutely not. You're not wearing a Hawaiian shirt in Chicago in December, Blaise. You'll freeze your bollocks off and it's the wrong American state for that, I think. Want to go somewhere more tropical for something like that,” he said, clearly amused. 

“You know, I heard the beach clubs in Miami are a sight during the summer. Maybe we should go,” Pansy said lazily, plucking a slice of cheese off their shared charcuterie board and plopping it into her mouth. 

“We are going to Spain, darling, maybe if Potter here lets Rich run the place for one night, we could fuck if early and go party in Ibiza or Barcelona for night. I do miss going to those raves as muggles call it. They're rather fun,” Draco said with a sip of his wine. He was lounging back in his chair, sipping his 1999 Sauvignon Blanc. 

“ You know what a rave is? I find that rather hard to believe, Draco,” Harry said, the thought of Draco in a translucent shirt and tight jeans making Harry’s mind almost go blank.

Or maybe even in one of those fishnet shirts and jean shorts with glitter on his face and neck like how the Americans dress for raves.

That did make Harry's mind go blank.

“Regardless of raves, I think taking an extra day would be an excellent idea. I think Rich could handle things for one night seeing how the man was the sous of our American destination. He came from a three Michelin star restaurant, Harry, and Goldstein is proficient enough that he could assist with taking care of those who order the wine package that night while making his regular drinks off the beverage menu. We need a night to let loose , you know? We're almost thirty for Salazar’s sake. We could also invite Ron and Hermione, won't be any trouble to book an extra room with my connections,” Blaise said, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes despite his mostly neutral facial expression. 

“Yeah.. y-yeah okay that.. that could work…” Harry said. 

“Did Rich and you go to school together?” Draco asked curiously, shifting his body to face Harry who zeroed in on the small expanse of pale skin that the two undone buttons at the top of Draco's shirt offer. Harry shook his head and met Draco’s eyes. 

“No, the bloke is forty eight. He moved here after hearing whispers across the pond that the top graduate from the Culinary Institute of America was planning on opening a restaurant in Wizarding London and decided a change of scenery wouldn't be a bad idea. He came to me with a long resumé with plenty of recommendations, but his last restaurant only paid him a mediocre salary. I raised it by 20% to hire him on because I needed someone with experience and trust to work beside me with the food menu. His son, Jamie, is the expo who gets a nice cheque as well,” Harry explained. 

“Well he certainly looks good for forty eight,” Draco replied and Harry felt his chest constrict with something akin to jealousy. 

“Gents and my beautiful wife, it's almost time for our reservation time,” Blaise said, standing elegantly and offering a hand to Pansy who slotted her hand into his. He gently helped her up as she drained her wine, moving her sunglasses so she could stare at Harry from the top of them.

“Don't worry, love, I'll make sure you have a grand time partying your little Gryffindor heart out. I'm sure living in New York City gave you a taste, but you've never been clubbing with Slytherins in Europe,” she smirked. 

Harry stood as well, draining his own wine before offering a hand to Draco, who took it tentatively before being allowed to be pulled up. 

“You're absolutely right, Pans, never partied with a Slytherin, much less in Europe and I doubt the pub nights count,” Harry replied, placing some money on the table for their drinks and snack. Blaise snorted.

“Pub nights are certainly not counted as partying. We'll be sure to show the Golden Trio what real partying is, right Draco ?” Blaise said, shooting Draco a devilish grin and the man in question flushed as they began to make their way to the apparition point. 

“I'm positively sure I don't know what you're implying, Blaise,” Draco drawled. 

“Zabini, let up on him, yeah?” Harry said, raising his eyebrows a bit. 

“Why don’t you call both of them Zabini? I noticed that when you say their surnames,” Draco said, trying to switch the topic. 

“Because it's easier to distinguish them that way when I do throw around surnames,” Harry shrugged. “Besides I mainly call Pansy, Pansy,” he added. 

The four reached the point and with a crack, appeared behind Il Vingeto before the conversation continued. 

“You know, one time when we at a club in La Rochelle about three years after the war, I think I saw Draco-” Blaise started, but was spelled silent with a Silenco before he could continue. 

“Did either of you hear something? No? Must've been the wind,” Draco said primly as Blaise let out an inaudible gasp as they followed Draco into the restaurant. “We have a reservation for four under Harry Potter,” he said to the host. She immediately ushered them in and through a wall of vines before revealing the intimate wizarding section of the restaurant. She showed them their table that overlooked the ocean below, tapping a wand on the parchments in front of them. She then cast a translation charm on herself before continuing. Draco lifted the silencing charm on Blaise before they fully got settled into their seats.

“This evening’s selections are here. The wine pairings are shown next to each course and here,” she gestured to a small book that was on the table, “is the a la carte beverage menu. I do recommend the espresso martini after you finish dessert. It's a lovely night cap with freshly brewed espresso to ensure you'll make it to your next stop,” she stated before bowing slightly and excusing herself. Their waiter, a dreadfully handsome bloke, then stepped in quickly and cast a translation charm on himself. 

“Welcome, my name is Dimitri and I will be taking care of you this evening. Were we interested in the wine pairings or ordering beverages as we go?” He asked, eyes trained on Draco the entire time. Harry narrowed his eyes  and cut Draco off before he could reply.

“We'll take the wine pairings, thank you,” Harry said. The waiter glanced over and noted before disappearing without a word. 

“Did you see that? He didn't even acknowledge anyone else at the table,” Harry said in a soft hiss that sounded oh so close to parseltongue. 

“It looked to me like he addressed us as a whole. Maybe don't get too upset, Harry, nothing serious really occurred…” Blaise said hesitantly. 

“What do you mean? He seemed annoyed that I said we would just do the pairings. He only glanced at me,” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“Maybe he just thought I was attractive, ever think of that?” Draco asked, eyes flashing dangerously.  Harry ducked his head sheepishly, a blush covering his face in embarrassment. 

“Well yes, I did think of that. Shouldn't be flirting with patrons,” Harry replied. 

“Potter, why on earth do you think it's appropriate to speak for me then? If I want to get on my knees and suck his cock it shouldn't be of concern to you, ” Draco hissed, face flushing. Pansy and Blaise were watching the two like it was a real life quidditch match. 

“Maybe you shouldn't get on your knees for random blokes,” Harry hissed back, watching as Draco’s nose flared. Before he could reply, Dimitri returned with their amuse-bouche and wines that would carry into the first course. 

“Did we decide what we wanted to select for each course?” He asked, one again only looking at Draco. Draco did have to admit the bloke did have a lustful look in his eye. Draco primly cleared his throat.

“Myself and Pansy will start with the broccolini with chili and hazelnuts. Mr. Potter and Blaise will have the seared scallop. For the second course we will all have the Italian gazpacho. Third lets say two of the dolmas and two beef carpaccio. Mains will be two of the braised beef ravioli with truffle and the lobster risotto. Desserts… two tiramisu and two limoncello with the scoop of gelato. As soon as we finish dessert we'll require four espresso martinis as your lovely hostess recommended them,” Draco finished, gathering the parchments and setting them aside. 

“Wonderful selections, it bellissímo uomo,” Dimitri said, giving Harry a sly look to see the tanned man fuming. Harry abruptly stood from his seat muttering about needing a cigarette before stalking out of the restaurant and going around the corner from the entrance. He lit the fag, inhaling deeply and trying to understand why he was so bothered by the bloody waiter.

Well… he knew why but there was no way Draco felt the same. 

Harry stayed outside for six minutes, calming his breathing and knowing the appetizer course was coming. He returned after spelling his hands and mouth clean, sitting at the table and broodily sipping his wine. He tried the amuse-bouche which seemed to be a balsamic foam with the most delectable strawberries and touch of olive oil before finishing his wine without even tasting it. 

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” Draco snapped and honestly, Harry didn't answer which seemed to anger Draco even more. 

Pansy and Blaise made up for most of the chatting during the meal, all of them sharing and comparing notes while Draco kept subtly flirting back with the waiter each time he returned to the table to clear crumbs or dishes. Harry was feeling pleasantly tipsy by the end of the meal, sipping his- admittedly very good- espresso martini. 

Don't get him wrong he was still bloody pissed about the situation, but the two just completely ceased interaction for the duration of the meal. When it came time to pay the bill, Harry snagged it and opened the bifold to see the server had written down an address in it, obviously believing that Draco was paying. Harry scowled, placing the money inside and standing, making a point to make eye contact with the server as he set the book down on the table. 

Dimitri looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Harry drained his drink and ended up picking up the book once more before walking over to the server, handing it over. 

“I'm not going to say anything, but I find it rather unprofessional to be flirting with guests when you have better things to attend to. Why don't you find one of those other things, yeah?” He said in a low voice, no real reason to be this mad because he's the one who is pining. 

Ron was fucking right. 

Harry walked out of the restaurant once more, lighting another fag and propping himself up against the wall. The others joined him not too long after, Draco’s eyes a dark and stormy grey that were reflected in the rapidly darkening sky. 

“Alright, darlings, let’s get to the hotel, okay?” Pansy said cautiously, looping an arm with Harry who vanished his half finished cigarette and didn't respond. Draco did the same and they were both side alonged to a beautiful hotel made of stone that vaguely reminded Harry of Hogwarts. They were led inside and the dark red walls were dazzled with rainbows from the crystal chandelier that hung above them. Blaise excused himself to check in before coming back to the group with only two key cards. 

“So… Pansy and I are in one and you both are sharing a room,” Blaise said, glancing at Pansy. 

“Zabini, what the fuck- ”

“Potter, play fucking nice. You've been in a stupid little mood since dinner and I'm not tolerating it anymore. Stop it,” Pansy demanded before leaning in to hiss in his ear. “Fix whatever little mess you created back there tonight or Salazar forgive what I might do to you,” she threatened. This seemed to work as Harry pulled a face, plucked the key card from Blaise's fingers and tossing one to Draco before walking away up the grand staircase. He found the room easily and let himself in. He pulled his luggage out of his pocket, unshrinking it before stepping out on the balcony to light his third fag. 

As he puffed, he really did try to justify his actions, but he found he couldn't. He knew he should apologize, but fuck . He wanted to be the one to make Draco blush and try to flirt back… come into the kitchen after closing and say something like ‘ let me suck your cock ’ and do it right there while Harry was pressed against the low boy. 

Harry dug the heels of his hands into his eyes before blinking, watching the soft twinkling lights of the town below him and the sea reflecting the moonlight in the distance. It was quiet and beautiful and began to soothe his frayed nerves. 

He disposed of the butt in the ashtray before going back inside, finding Draco with his back to him, whirling around once the door closed behind Harry. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Potter? You have no right to dictate if I wanted to go home with that man and be back for the portkey in the morning,” Draco seethed. 

“Oh, you know, just keeping you safe from strange men,” Harry replied with an eyebrow raised. 

“ Strange men? Strange men he says! I'll have you know I've been fucked by strange men in loos and at parties and if I wanted to get on my knees and-”

“Yeah, see, I can't let you do that.”

“ Can't let me? Are you my fucking mother ?”

“No, I'm clearly half white, half blooded, and have a cock.”

“You're bloody impossible. You can't even give me a straight answer -” 

“You want a straight answer?” Harry said, moving forward and watching as Draco backed up. Draco hit the wall and Harry caged him in, one arm beside his head and the other pinning his hip to the wall. Draco's breath hitched and Harry felt his cock twitch in his slacks as he leaned in, green eyes boring into grey. 

“This. This is why,” he breathed before kissing Draco fiercely, the other turning into putty in his hands, kissing back almost immediately. Harry’s hand moved from the wall to cup Draco’s cheek, Draco's own arms snaking up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The little moans that were muffled by the kiss were driving him insane and he nipped at the others lips. Harry slotted a leg between Draco’s thighs, something he's been thinking about for almost six bloody weeks, and pressed his tongue into the other's mouth, teasing him after he was allowed in.

Harry broke away only slightly to move Draco’s neck to the side, nipping at the pale expanse of skin, breathy moans surrounding his senses completely. As Harry made his way back up to Draco’s mouth, he gave him another kiss, much softer this time, more controlled, before breaking away and stepping back breathless. 

Draco looked absolutely wrecked and Harry wished he could take a picture of those swollen glossed lips, mused hair, and glassy grey eyes. His neck had bright red marks along the side and Harry could almost see Draco’s pulse with how hard his heart was pounding. 

“Adequate enough reason?” Harry asked, unsure. Draco nodded, clearly dazed before Harry gave him a lopsided grin. He clearly didn't know where to go from here and almost wanted to push it down like it never happened, but he banished those thoughts for now and retreated into the bathroom. 

“I'm going to take a shower, we have to get up early to portkey back to London,” Harry breathed, closing the door and pressing his back against it. He had no idea how the planning session or tasting or even work was going to go from here

He just… he just had to figure it out.