The very idea of being watched so closely, at his most vulnerable, made Harry's eyes flare wide. As he complied by putting his legs in the air for Oliver to duck under, Harry felt the other man snug up against the back of his thighs. In that position, so close together, their cocks brushed and bumped against each other whenever they moved, and Harry quickly found himself back in that heady, desperate place where he was aching to be touched and sure a simple firm stroke would set him off.
As Oliver moved his hand down, Harry didn't know whether to entreat him to hurry or go slow, so he simply nodded his encouragement. He knew he should have been trying to conjure up mental images of Snape in a dress to ease his racing pulse, but Harry wanted to remember every moment of their first time together -- without Snape prancing through the memory in his Wang.