An exercise in self-preservation, he’d thought, stripping out of his shorts, his trunks, his t-shirt, climbing into bed atop the covers to feel the kiss of air conditioning against his naked skin, grabbing a pillow and rolling over to stick his face into it as he’d rubbed himself to full hardness against the sheets, alcohol swimming in his head, the phantom scent of Draco still strong in his nose and at the back of his teeth.