Draco examined the toy that was laying on the bed. He could feel wrinkles of worrying appearing on his front head as he eyed the extravagant orange colour and the oval shape in which the tool ended. So much like a cock, but so much like not a cock too.
“What do you th-”
Harry stopped talking as soon as he entered the room and saw Draco standing in front of the bed, arms crossed, eyes locked to the toy on full display against the whiteness of the sheets. Draco could feel that Harry had stopped breathing.
“Care to explain this?” Draco asked, tone almost casual, but with a sharpness that was impossible not to catch. He wasn’t looking at Harry; he wanted him to approach him first, so he could’ve blocked his arms and pinned him to the wall, making his head and chest and heart hurt .
“Yes,” Harry replied from behind him, swallowing loud, before starting to walk in Draco’s direction.
Draco raised a hand to stop him. “Stay where you are, and, for Merlin’s sake, speak clear.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, then sighed. “I was hiding it because I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted, a hint of shame in his low voice. Good. Shame was good. “Because I didn’t want to tell you.”
Draco tsked. “You obviously didn’t, did you?” he commented, closing his eyes. “You hid a strap-on under our bed, because you wanted to talk about double penetration, but you didn’t know how and when, even though you knew I was speaking about it with Blaise at the last Sunday roast?”
Draco’s question was obviously rhetorical, but it didn’t stop Harry from pinching at his nose and “I did,” agreeing, brown cheeks the reddest. “But in my defense, you were tipsy and everyone could’ve heard you casually chatting about sex toys on the Burrow’s courtyard.”
Draco shook his head, barely holding a smile back. “You’re incredible,” he muttered, before turning around and finding himself face to face with Harry’s bare chest, the musky scent of his skin already making his mind going blank, the anger and the weird incredulity forgotten.
“I’m so incredible I surprised you and you didn’t know what you say, so you pretended to be cross with me, but in reality you just want to say thank you and kiss me until tomorrow?” Harry had a smile on his plump lips, and even if Draco wanted so much to punch the cheekiness out of his face, he also wanted to snog him and make him forget his own name.
“Shut up,” Draco demanded in a poor attempt at being serious. His voice also cracked a little, because the strap-on was still on the bed and they could’ve used it now and, fuck .
Draco was good at handling his emotions when required, and there were just a few things that would’ve made him tremble: one of these was how easy it was being open with Harry about his sexual preferences.
Harry lowered his head, and Draco made a high noise, when he joined their lips together. He hadn’t realised how much he craved Harry’s contact, because yes, he was so grateful Harry had brought the toy home, grateful he always cared so much about Draco, wanted him content all the time - even if Draco wasn’t really good at reminding it to Harry.
They kissed for quite some time, Harry’s hands on Draco’s hips, fingers circling over his white t-shirt, comforting him, telling that it was okay, that the kiss was a good enough thank you. Harry knew him too well.
“Wanna try it now?” Harry asked into his ear with an American accent he’d started to pick up from his trips to the MACUSA, voice low and soft like a feather. It made Draco shiver in the best way, and he simply nodded, not trusting his words to come out in the right succession; his mind was a real mess of love you and fuck me and please and yes .
“It’s going to be great,” Harry continued, licking at Draco’s lobe. “You’ll be so full and quiet and mine to bite and fuck. Will you be good and let me do it?”
Draco’s knees almost gave out. He moaned into Harry’s neck, murmuring an almost silent please against the musky skin. It would’ve been a long night.