Harry takes a delight in laundry. I can see him just *basking* with a silly pleasure in the way Draco's clothes smell like him. I can see him burying his head in Draco's shirts on the way to the laundry hamper--shirts that smell of everything innately Draco--and indulging everything those smells call to mind. His eyes closed, his cheeks just slightly flushed with pleasure--
And suddenly Draco rounds the corner and sees him.
Blankly, "Harry?"
Harry's head snapping up. "Oh!" Cheeks instantly aflame. "Yes? What?"
Quizzical head tilt. "Were you just...smelling my shirt?"
Uncomfortable shifting: "No!"
Head tilt.
Sheepishly, "Um. Yeah. But--you had a little lemon juice on the col-"
"Harry." Gently. A meek look from Harry. Unspoken question.
Draco, moving slowly into the laundry room. "What did you smell?" A hint of teasing.
"Just you, of course. Your--" slight hitch in breathing as Draco calmly winds his arms around his lover's waist. "...your smell."
"What do I smell like?" Gray eyes calmly fixed on green.
"How should I know?" Rolled eyes in an attempt to look unaffected by his closeness. "You just--smell like you."
A low voice, accompanied by a slight pressure of fingers on the small of Harry's back: "Tell me."
Straightening, inadvertently shifting closer to Draco's body. "You smell like..." Leaning his head down to breathe in the scent of Draco's warm cotton t-shirt, a plain black souvenir from his Quidditch days, with the words 'the Snitch Harry really wants to catch' still visible even after all the years of life and love that had passed between them. "...you smell like woodchips."
"Mmm. I was stirring the fire earlier." One hand comes up to brush across Harry's forehead.
"Mmm, no. That's you--part of your smell. You always have it." A slight smile. "And...nutmeg. Just barely." A light kiss on the underside of Draco's chin, right between his Adam's apple and his one tiny dimple, the only asymmetry about him, perfect in its imperfection. "I can taste it on you sometimes."
Another slight hitch in breathing, this one from Draco, as he winds his fingers through Harry's hair and pulls him closer still, pressing him next to his chest, which is heaving a bit more noticeably against Harry's warm flesh. A kiss on Harry's forehead, complete with tongue tracing a slow, tentative path over a line of care formed at too early an age.
"And...sweat..." Fingers touching Draco's, sliding down to hold his wrist, not firmly or possessively, but yearningly, moving over it as though newly discovering the curve of each bone against flesh, each vein throbbing beneath thin skin. A sigh escaping as Draco drops his tongue to the edge of Harry's forehead, sweeping over his eyelids, up to his eyebrow, bushy to match his hair, and mussing their hard line with a firm press of his lips over wiry dark hair; a touch that pulls a moan from a taut, slightly quivering red mouth, as Harry breathes in and murmurs a word too low for him to hear.
"What?" A bit roughly as hands wind around his waist, cradling his back, and he slides two light-framed legs over his torso and lifts Harry back onto the top of the dryer to wrap his thighs around Draco's hips. All he can focus on is finding his way to a warm, wonderful Harry-kiss and staying inside it for as long as humanly possible...
Harsh with desire: "And sex. Most of all, you smell of sex."
A fierce kiss at the edge of Harry's mouth, not yet fastening onto his plump, irresistible lips. Picking up a neatly folded, freshly clean shirt of Harry's and draping it casually over his neck, letting the fabric gather near his throat and offer him a nice whiff of spring breezes, mowed grass, fruity drinks, fresh tears, and everything indefinably Harry--he smiles and then tosses the shirt aside. "You never cease to amaze me." The kiss is waylaid yet again--this time for a hug. A simple, heartfelt hug that warms him all over in a way that not even absolute completion inside of Harry can do.
"And you never cease to surprise." Harry pulls away for an earnest look into honest eyes.
The kiss comes, and deepens. The hamper of freshly folded laundry is dispersed.
It is a comfortable pillow.