His hands, that until thus far had been pressed flat against the wall behind him, finally seemed to remember that they could move, and they did just that - reaching forwards for Draco and pressing themselves against his waist, desperate to feel him. Draco groaned at the contact, pressing forward once more so that their chests were completely flush together. One of Draco’s hands buried itself in his hair, while the other found itself trailing across Harry’s throat, his fingers dipping under the collar of Harry’s pyjamas.