"I still don't get why you like it?" Draco mumbled, but he fondly cupped Harry's face too, and drew him into a kiss. "I'm trying to listen to you, I am. I just can't seem to let go of the way I used to look. Even if you like this better, I don't know, I changed so fast, I'm struggling to come to terms with it."

Harry looked at him intently. "I'd love you no matter how you looked," he promised. "If...if you really wanted to lose weight, I'd support that? But only if that's what you wanted?"

Draco laughed ruefully. "If I could just turn back time, if there was a spell to just be like I was-"

"No," Harry growled, genuinely alarmed. There were all kinds of weight-loss spells and potions, but none of them were sanctioned by the Ministry and were rumoured to have long-term side effects that Harry did not like the sound of. Plus, Time-Turners were an absolute nightmare, he knew that from personal experience.

But Draco shook his head and smiled. "I know, I wouldn't do that. I'm just saying, if I could click my fingers and be skinny again, I might like that. But on the other hand I love the way you make me feel, just as I am. And, bloody hell, life's too short! After all the shit we went through, if I want to eat cake, or pasta, or whatever, I don't want to deny myself that. I don't want to drop dead and regret not enjoying myself."

Harry shuddered. "Don't talk about dying," he mumbled, burying his face into Draco's neck, and he felt him chuckle.

"Sorry," he apologised. "You're such a dork." Harry thought maybe he was touched by his horror at even mentioning him dying though. He for one couldn't stand it, and shook it off, physically. They were here there and now, and everything was fine. Draco stroked the back of his head, and carried on. "Anyway, do you get what I mean?"

"You're still adjusting to your new shape?" Harry supplied, and Draco nodded. "Well, I'm happy to help with that, any time you like."

Largely to shake off his melancholy, he dove down to lay several kisses on Draco's tummy that he so adored, making him bark out a laugh and yank him back up to kiss his lips. Draco sighed. "Isn't it hypocritical though – that I love how toned and fit you are?"

Harry had been thinking about this, and he felt he had a good answer. "Well," he ventured. "You're very gay aren't you?"

"Extremely," Draco agreed, a smile twitching at his lips.

"Exactly," Harry carried on. "So, the thing with me is, I did really quite fancy the girls I was with before, and a few others from afar, girls with curves. I think part of my bisexuality is that I'm attracted to soft, cuddly bodies. I feel so safe and comfortable when I'm in your arms, I love the way your body moulds under my hands." He squeezed Draco's side and felt a roll of lust roll through him, certain it showed on his face. "Does that make sense?"

"We like different things," Draco agreed firmly, and his shoulders relaxed a little. "Okay, I hear you. I'll try and let it sink in."

"Can I help?" Harry asked, climbing on top of him as he kissed his neck, and Draco laughed.

"Help away."

It had taken them quite some time to come to this point. It wasn't just Draco's body image issues that had held them back, but their antagonistic past as well had meant they had had to talk a lot of things through before the trust they had for each other matched up to their lustful urges. Harry had to understand Draco's depression, his complex relationship with his father and all the trauma he had suffered throughout the war. And Draco had to understand the hurt he had caused to Harry and his friends, the real damage he had done so they could come together and face the consequences.

Their sex-life had progressed along a similar gradient. They had to comprehend each other properly before Harry would be willing to take them much further than they had already gone, but from what he could tell, Draco had seemed more than content with the sort of external love-making they had been thoroughly enjoying thus far. Harry had hoped that perhaps, one day soon, they could maybe experiment together and try and take it further. He had been reading the books Hermione had bought him (red-faced as she handed them over, but apparently that wasn't enough to deter her) and there definitely was more they could be doing apparently. "Real sex" he kept referring to it in his head. Not that he didn't consider what they'd already been doing so far as sex, but he was captivated by the idea of being inside one another, of being joined as closely two people could.

He didn't have much to complain about though as his and Draco's bodies slid together again on top of the bed, the lightweight sheet sliding away as they ground against each other, cocks filling up tightly, having recovered from their last session not long ago. "Draco," Harry gasped, knowing it wasn't going to be long before he climaxed. They kissed urgently, and Harry wrapped his fingers around both their erections, squeezing for extra pressure as they slid in and out of his hand, rutting with fervour.

"Harry, Harry," Draco gnashed, nails digging into his back.

It seemed like they were totally alone in the world, lost in their joy, lost in each other. The humid air was thick with the scent of their arousal, and the night soon echoed with their triumphant cries of release, followed by their panting breaths and murmured words of love.

Harry was tempted to say he didn't want to return home the next day, that he wanted to put off reality. But he realised as he drifted off to sleep in his lover's arms, that it would still be reality, just the regular every day kind. Draco wasn't going anywhere, and they had their whole lives to plan before them.

If anything, their holiday had been a pause. Tomorrow, it would be full steam ahead.