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Summary
"You're so—fuck—you're so pleased with yourself."
"Should be," Harry said, mouthing at Draco's jaw. "Played brilliantly."
"Modest, too," Draco murmured, but he was arching up, grinding against Harry, his eyes shutting. "God, I hate you. I hate that you're so good at everything."
"Not everything," Harry corrected, his hands sliding under Draco's shirt. “Never figured you out."
Or:
Enemies with benefits to lovers drarry where Harry learns not to be scared of the bad parts of himself as he and Draco become more involved.
