"Ah – Potter, stop, if you keep – I’ll, I’m close –" Malfoy moans, but Harry just hums agreeably and sucks harder. Malfoy’s stomach is tense, the line of his abs more evident as he flexes. Harry finds the nub of his prostate and presses up insistently, and Malfoy spills down Harry’s throat with a shout of Harry’s name, arching off the mattress. Harry doesn’t swallow it down, letting it drip out of the corners of his mouth and sucks him through the pulsing, not letting up.