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Draco sank further into his bubble bath. He’d had the longest day. Being the Healer-in-Charge at St. Mungo’s wasn’t for the faint of heart. And luckily, Draco was made of sterner stuff than most. But some days were enough to wear on even him.
Harry walked in with two glasses of Draco’s favourite red wine and handed one to him. Draco took a sip and sat it on the bathtub rim before holding a hand out to Harry.
“Join me,” he said.
Harry smiled at him before sitting his own wine aside and beginning to undress.
Draco folded his arms on the rim and pillowed his chin there, settling in to watch. Harry was such an exhibitionist. Draco suspected it came from all those feats of derring-do in their childhood. Being heroic and showy in front of a crowd had given Harry a taste for attention, if only for a limited audience. Draco couldn’t say he minded being Harry’s number one fan.
Draco’s eyes traced every muscle Harry revealed like it was new. It wasn’t; he and Harry had been married for years and Draco knew Harry’s body as intimately as he knew his own. But the thrill of seeing it all unveiled to him never faded.
The show didn’t last long enough. When he was finally bare, that entire body on glorious display, Harry smirked at Draco and climbed into the tub, hiding his form beneath the suds. Bloody tease.
“C’mere love,” Harry beckoned.
Draco leaned toward him, expecting a kiss to make up for the teasing and was instead met with Harry shoving his head underwater.
Draco came up spluttering to Harry’s uproarious laughter.
It really was the longest bloody day.