"Come here," Draco says, the words uttered against Harry’s mouth. He uses his arm to pull Harry onto his lap, thumbing relentlessly at the head of Harry’s dick over the wet material of his shorts, then letting go so their hips press flush underneath the water. Harry clings to the edge of the whirlpool on either side of Draco and starts grinding down slowly, chasing that heat, near out of his mind with it. His breath pants out against Draco’s ear, Draco’s in turn gusting over his neck, interspersed with kisses and the lightest scrape of fine stubble.