They end up on the L-shaped settee.  Shuddering, Draco watches Harry sink onto it, standing and staring down in astonishment as Harry scooches forward to sit on its edge, his hands sliding firmly over Draco’s chest, his hips, coaxing a twitch of excitement from Draco’s prick. His fingers work Draco’s shirt open, enthusiastic but deft, and he leaves it like that, hanging open over Draco’s bare chest. He moves to the waistband of Draco’s shorts.