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Summary
“You know I love these stupid fucking pyjamas,” he said, tugging on the collar of Draco’s silk top. “I swear you wear them just to fuck with me.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Draco said, though his smirk did little to persuade Harry. “These are just my normal pyjamas, Potter. I wear them every night.”
“Exactly!” Harry cried. “Drives me mad.”
***
Harry's a little bit obsessed with Draco's sleepwear
