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Harry met – and held – the gaze of the proudest creature he’d ever known. Eyes watering as he tried not to blink, he ducked his head, never breaking eye contact as he waited for a bow in return.
Harry’s throat caught. A handsome devil, this one. His sharp gaze, the classic line of his neck… Merlin, the strength in those thighs practically made Harry’s mouth water. Such incredible power. But as they were new to their relationship – Harry’d only ridden him a few times so far – he had to follow the proper protocol or the talons would come out. The creature could be nearly as vicious as he was gorgeous, but the effort was worth it. Harry’d practically touched the stars last time they’d got together.
Now, though, time seemed to stand still. His skin prickling in anticipation, Harry attempted to keep his breathing measured as he waited to be judged worthy. He never got used to this part, always wanting to look away, to stare at his feet as he fought the nerves colouring his cheeks.
He was, after all, completely starkers, and his knees were too knobby and his chest hair too—
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Harry,” Draco muttered. “I’m not one of your bloody Hippogriffs. If you want to ride me, all you have to do is ask.”
Grinning widely, Harry clamoured over to the bed where Draco lay equally naked and sprawled across a meadow of green throw pillows.
“You truly have the oddest idea of bedroom eyes,” Draco said, voice tinged with fondness as he pulled Harry close and breathed the words across his lips. “But so eager.”
Harry claimed Draco’s mouth. Draco was correct, of course; Harry was desperate to touch him. But the prideful Hippogriff must always be allowed to make the first move.