"What was our time for that one?" Harry panted as he sat back on one of the large, flat rocks at the top of the hill.
Draco pulled out of his stretch and checked his watch. "Ten minutes, thirty-five seconds." He smiled at Harry. "Not bad. I think this may be our best yet."
Harry chuckled. "Well, after three months we had better be getting some results."
Draco's eyes traveled slowly over Harry's heaving body; Harry could practically feel that gaze like a touch. "I hardly think improved running time is the best result we've been seeing."
Harry shivered at the roughness in Draco's voice. He looked down at his body, running his hands up his stomach and pushing up his shirt to expose his considerably firmer belly. It had only been three months since Harry had taken a look in the mirror one morning and realised just how out of shape he'd let himself get. When he was still a junior Auror, staying fit had been relatively easy, what with all the running about trying to catch the baddies. Being Head Auror, however, meant considerably more paperwork, meetings, and sitting behind a desk all day long. That fateful morning, he'd gone to pull on a pair of his favourite trousers and realised that they no longer fit. It had been a surprisingly upsetting revelation. Harry vowed to start a new training regimen.
After a frankly ridiculous fight with Draco—he'd yelled at Draco for not telling Harry that he'd been putting on weight, and Draco yelled back that Harry was still bloody fit and a little extra padding hardly mattered to him—they'd come up with a plan. It bothered Harry that he wasn't as active as he used to be, and Draco suggested that they start jogging through some of the paths behind the Manor. They used to walk the tracks all the time when they'd first started dating, and the scenery was gorgeous. Harry had readily agreed.
Three months of obscenely early morning jogs, debilitating side-cramps, and murderous sprints up the largest hill in the area, and Harry was happy to see the results of their labors. He felt better than he had in years—stronger, healthier, and more alert. His clothes fit again, and Harry was proud of his regained muscle definition. Draco didn't seem to mind the change much, either.
Harry grinned at Draco, who was still blatantly checking him out. This area was almost always completely deserted, especially at this time of morning. "How about we celebrate our recent success?"
Draco raised his brows, but stepped closer. "Oh? And how do you propose we do that?"
Harry reached forward, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Draco's jogging pants, and pulling him flush against Harry. The heat of Draco radiated off of him, warming Harry as his sweat became to cool and chill in the air. He leaned up for a kiss, breathing teasingly against Draco's mouth. "I'm sure we can figure something out."