As Draco sat up straighter, Harry himself moved forward, filling the space as Draco created, as though pulled by a string. Propped up on his elbow, he allowed himself to look at Draco in the sparse light filtering through the windows.<br/>Draco looked all askew, the collar of his shirt stretched and lopsided, and hair had escaped the bun around his hairline. It was hard to tell how much had happened within the last couple of minutes; the way Draco’s guard had fallen, how open and young he looked, Harry felt certain was reserved for just the two of them.<br/>“I missed you, too,” Harry repeated, wanting to say it properly.<br/>The words were a propeller, accompanied by Harry’s hand around Draco’s knee, pulling him properly onto Harry’s lap and he himself sat up. They were entirely too dressed for the proximity they shared, but it allowed Harry’s hands to wrap around Draco’s hips, stretching into him to catch his lips in a kiss, finally.