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Summary
He was already half a metre away. Close enough for Harry to catch his scent. "We shouldn’t be doing this here."
"Because someone might see us?"
"Because you might ask me for something I can’t give you," Draco whispered.
Harry looked at him, and this time there was no smile. Only his voice, soft, "And what if I don’t ask for anything?"
Draco moved closer without haste, took the glass from Harry’s hand and set it down on the stone ledge. He cupped his face with a trembling hand. And then he kissed him. It wasn’t slow; it was restrained, with a quiet fury. As if he longed to pour himself into him.
Harry broke the kiss first, without fully pulling away. "Is that your final decision?"
Draco rested his forehead against his. He gave no reply in words.