Aug 8, 2025
“Anywhere You Like” | Drarry | Eighth Year, One Bed (Eventually) | 149w
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Draco sits at the edge of the bed, stiff-backed, hands twisted in his lap.
Harry stands between his knees—shirt open, chest flushed, skin damp from the shower.
“Just going to look?” Harry asks, voice low.
Draco swallows hard. “I… I don’t…”
Harry leans in slightly.
“You can touch.”
Draco blinks up at him. “Oh. Uhm. Where?”
Harry smiles. Slow. Crooked.
“Anywhere you like.”
Draco’s hand rises, uncertain, and lands lightly at Harry’s hip.
Harry exhales. Forehead brushing close.
Draco’s voice comes out hoarse.
“You said I could touch.”
Harry’s smile turns feral.
“I did.”