Harry blinked and was almost horrified by the turn of conversation. He leaned in to kiss Draco to reassure him, and thankfully, Draco kissed him back. Harry let go and brought his hand up to caress his face. He remembered how happy Draco was when he was on the stage, how strong... how confident. The idea of taking that away from him was too much to bear. It was wrong, especially after Draco told him only an hour or so ago, that he could do whatever he wanted.
"It's 100 percent fine with me, Draco," Harry said, clearly, with his fingers pressed against his huge muscular chest. "You don't have to ask; I would never make you choose!"
Draco smiled faintly. "I know you say that, and I believe you mean it... but... I also know that you might start feeling jealous. With me stripping in front of other guys... or making them come in their pants. I just think that... it'll bug you too much."
Harry nodded. He understood Draco's concern. "I can't promise that I won't get jealous... but I know it makes you happy. I don't want you to lose that. I don't want to be the insecure boyfriend who doesn't trust you. I do trust you, Draco. I trust that you're a professional, and you only love me, not them."
Draco's eyes watered, and he kissed him. "Thank you, but please... please... promise me that you'll tell me if it bugs you too much. Please talk to me about it, okay? Don't let it rip us apart. I don't have to... strip. I just... feel good doing it. Promise me, Harry."
"I promise, okay? We'll talk, if anything happens. We won't keep secrets, okay?" Harry vowed, and Draco eagerly nodded. "But... let's go eat. I'll re-warm breakfast-slash-lunch."
Draco laughed, and they walked naked back out into the kitchen. Harry didn't give a flying fuck if anyone else came. Merlin... it took one night with Draco to brush away years of insecurities. He condemned the food to leftover status and shoved the plates into the fridge with a status charm. Draco was getting a fresh meal, and he pulled out what he needed. Draco watched him cook. Watched him. Harry made a show of working his body as he flipped the eggs in the pan.
"You keep that up, and we aren't going to eat today," Draco chuckled. 
Harry laughed, but he quickly cooked and plated their meal. Draco praised his cooking and held his hand the whole time they ate. Harry couldn't get enough of his presence. It only took a little convincing to pull Draco into the shower for a fourth round of passionate, enduring sex. Draco was perfect. He knew all the right spots to hit, and his physical strength was so freaking incredible. He had held him up against the shower wall as he thrusted into him. Fucking hell... he was a sex god.
The hot, soothing spray of the shower head washed away both their climaxes as Draco held him and washed him thoroughly. Harry reluctantly turned off the water and got out. They dried off, and Harry wandlessly freshened Draco's clothes for him, which Draco leaned in to kiss him for it. He pulled on his boots and jacket, and perused his flat, again, while Harry finished straightening and getting ready. He suddenly felt subconscious about leaving anything messy. He had a feeling that Draco was not a sloppy person.
"You really have a beautiful place, Harry," Draco said, as he looked out the windows over the city.
"Thanks... I... I don't want this day to end, but... I actually have to go to practice. I have a game next Saturday. We practice mainly at night."
"Okay, well, I only work at night... so we have mornings and days to do... things."
Harry grimaced. "Will you... come over, again, tonight?" He was testing the waters. He wanted to think that Draco would just always be there.
"That sounds good. We can spend some time apart... get some space... adjust to what happened. I can meet you at Soho at 2, again?" Draco said.
"I should get out earlier than that."