He was blissfully asleep one moment. And the next, the covers were mercilessly torn away, exposing his skin to the cool air of the dingy hotel room.

Harry scrambled awake with a yelp, grabbing at the sheets and pillows, unable to recall where he had left his gun. Then the details of the circumstances in which he had fallen asleep came rushing back to him.

He snapped his head around to see Malfoy turn the lamp back on against of the darkness of the night outside the window. He grinned. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said. "Time to get presentable again, I am afraid."

Harry rubbed his eyes, unable to see clearly thanks to his lack of spectacles. "What?" he croaked.

Malfoy walked back over to the bed, still naked, and smacked a hand on Harry's backside where it was exposed. Harry yelped even louder than before, then glared indignantly as he rubbed the stinging flesh. "Ow," he said pointedly.

"This is mine now," Malfoy replied, patting Harry's sore bum. "So, time to shower. Come now, chop chop, as you English say."

He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"It's still night," Harry said. Said, not whined. He was sure of it.

Malfoy chuckled. "We sleep for hour and half – one R.E.M. cycle. Now we are fresh as daisies, yes?"

Harry scowled. He definitely did not feel as fresh as a daisy. But Malfoy reached his hand down to him and beckoned him up with his curled fingers, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes alight and imploring. "Shower?" Harry asked.

"Shower," Malfoy repeated.

That didn't sound like the worst idea Harry had ever heard. Despite Malfoy's ministrations to him earlier, he still felt a little grotty; his hair was almost certainly stuck up at all angles thanks to the sweat that had dried in it. If they were to head back into West Berlin, they would need to look as inconspicuous as possible, just in case they were to run into any further trouble.

Harry slipped his hand into Malfoy's, and allowed himself to be pulled upward. He mused to himself as he was led into the small bathroom, watching as Malfoy pulled the cord to switch on the light bulb under the cracked glass shade. After such a good rodgering – and really, it had been quite spectacular – should Harry think of Malfoy as Draco now? Were they on such intimate terms?

It didn't feel right somehow, he concluded as he watched Malfoy reach around the greying shower curtain and turn on the taps. Draco Malfoy was the Drakon, a known international threat to queen and country. Malfoy was a mildly infuriating co-worker, who had just unravelled Harry in the most stupendous fashion. He had cared for him, as a lover.

Harry would have assumed that after taking on the submissive role in their tryst he would feel meek, or even humiliated. But he simply felt calm, and warm despite the cold tiles under his bare feet.

Malfoy was standing with his hand under the stream of water, staring at nothing as he waited for the temperature to heat up. However, when he realised Harry was watching him, he met his eye and smiled with one corner on his pale, pink lips. "Come," he said, beckoning Harry to him.

Harry was surprised by Malfoy following him into the bath tub. He turned and raised his eyebrows, but found he didn't know what to say. He had never showered with a lover before; he had assumed Malfoy was setting the water temperature as a thoughtful gesture, as Harry had drawn baths for his women in the past. But it seemed the Russian had other ideas as he pulled the curtain shut.

There was a cracked bar of yellow soap on the side, which Malfoy leaned around Harry to fetch. He didn't say anything, he just crowded Harry into moving backwards, until they were both under the stream. The water was on the verge of being too hot, just the way Harry preferred it. Probably because it was the middle of the night and everyone else was sleeping or fucking, rather than washing away the long day. Whatever the reason, Harry was grateful.

The water was falling over Harry's shoulder, hitting both their stomachs with half-decent power, and the steam was filing up the space behind the curtain nicely. Harry inhaled deeply, tasting the moisture on his tongue and feeling it at the back of his throat.

Malfoy rubbed the bar of soap vigorouslybetween his hands, slowly building up a good amount of lather under the water'sspray. Harry watched his long hands atwork as he ran his own fingers through his hair, massaging the water through itpleasantly.