Draco’s eyes glaze over as he clings on to Harry’s shoulders, but it passes in a second. Harry curls his fingers again, making Draco sigh quietly.
“You can make noise.” Harry whispers into Draco’s dripping hair. “The water’ll drown it out.”
“Ha-ha.” Draco pants, shifting his hips so Harry’s fingers slip deeper. “ Oh gods.”
“That wasn’t a- okay, sure.” Harry smirks, squeezing Draco’s arse. “You getting there, bunny?”
“Mhm.”
Harry’s not the biggest fan of shower sex. It’s so talked up in those books he’d gone through at school, but so far, it’s a nightmare for logistics.
For one, Draco’s too tall for Harry to bend him over and fuck. This shower is more cramped than the one at Privet, and when Draco’s in the water, the breeze through the small window above the toilet makes the water on Harry’s back cool uncomfortably. And their lube keeps washing away.
Still, it’s one of the few places in the Burrow with some privacy.
“My wrist is cramping.” Harry says, easing his fingers out of Draco.
“That’s what it’s like when I try to do it on myself.” Draco says, taking his foot off the shelf with all the shampoo and soap bottles. “Why I like it better when you do it.”
As Draco strokes himself lazily, Harry rinses the lube off his fingers.
“Wanna suck me off?” Harry asks, taking a step back, his heel against the wall of the stall. “I could fuck your face.”
Draco holds Harry’s hips to get carefully to his knees.
“Pass me that loofah?”
With the loofah beneath his knees, Draco looks up at Harry, opening his mouth. A surge of want passes through Harry, and he sets the tip of his cock on Draco’s tongue.
Draco’s hands wrap around the backs of Harry’s thighs as Harry slides into his mouth, letting his head fall back with a quiet moan.
Sucking, licking up and down the shaft, Draco bobs his head to coat Harry’s cock in spit, taking him all the way into the back of his throat. Harry’s fingers twist into Draco’s hair, holding him in place for a second.
Knowing how much Draco likes having things in his mouth, Harry expects bunnyspace, but Draco hums softly, still meeting Harry’s gaze with focused, clear eyes.
Harry sets his foot on the shelf Draco used earlier to get some leverage and fuck Draco’s throat. Draco’s eyelids flutter for a second, close, and open normally again. Through his haze of topspace, Harry decides Draco is fighting off bunnyspace on purpose.
Out of bunnyspace, though, Draco’s even better with his mouth. He does something with his tongue along the ridge of the tip that has Harry covering his own mouth, panting, and gripping Draco’s head tighter.
The water is cooling, and Harry reaches behind Draco to turn the temperature all the way up, which doesn’t help very much.
Harry readjusts his grip on Draco’s hair as he finishes down Draco’s throat.
“Oh fuck…” Harry grunts, pushing the dark blond chunks of hair back from Draco’s forehead. “Thank you, bunny. Shit…”
Whilst Draco gets back to his feet and steps back into the water, Harry leans back against the cool tile to catch his breath.
Harry’s eyes are closed, but he can hear as Draco pulls himself, humming softly.
Then, the water shuts off, and Harry lifts off the wall.
