Let Me Be Your Voice

Part 13

**Smut Warning**

When they pushed open the double doors of the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey stood, dressed in her nightgown with her hands on her hips.

“Thank you for deciding to make an appearance, gentlemen,” she said sardonically. “Curfew was half an hour ago. I trust you are clean? It’s time for lights out and I expect you to be fully rested before I release you in the morning.”

Harry returned to his bed under her stern gaze while Malfoy stalked to his own.

The lights went out save a solitary candle which hovered beside the darkened window in Madam Pomfrey’s office door after she closed it.

Harry put his glasses on the bedside table between their beds and closed his eyes, trying to find sleep, but his erection throbbed against the drawstring in his pyjama bottoms and he longed to relieve it.

After about fifteen minutes of shifting under his blanket, trying to find a comfortable position, Harry held his breath, listening. He hoped to hear the rhythmic sound of breathing which would mean Malfoy had fallen asleep, but instead the sound of muffled panting met his ears.

His cock ached more at the thought that Malfoy was wanking.

He drew the drawstring from its knot and slipped his hand underneath, unsticking his leaking cock head from the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms. His other hand moved upwards, carefully unbuttoning the pyjama top with fumbling fingers. He bit his lower lip to keep himself from making too much noise as the cool of the room settled over him and caused his nipples to stand up like small pebbles.

Harry’s hand travelled over his chest, still warm from his bath, and then dipped down to join the other. One hand palmed his cock, while the other moved further, squeezing his balls gently, fingertips finding the puckered entrance to his body just behind them.

He sucked in a loud breath when he heard a whimper come from the next bed, freezing his movements briefly.

And then Harry didn’t care any more. So what if Malfoy knew he was listening to him wank? Harry had needs just as much as Malfoy did. He let a long sigh escape while he stroked himself, dipping the finger of his other hand just inside his rim, fucking himself on it with short jabs.

His eyes flew open at the sensation of eyes on him, and met Malfoy’s smouldering gaze staring down at him from above.

Malfoy had shed his top and his pyjama bottoms were noticeably tented in front, making Harry squeeze his erection to keep from coming right then.

“Don’t talk,” Malfoy hissed, then pulled Harry’s sheet off and climbed in beside him.

Harry couldn’t form words even if he had wanted to. He had to roll onto his side so there would be room enough for the pair of them, which necessitated moving his hands. The only problem was that Harry wasn’t sure where to put them next. He settled with folding an arm under his head and leaving the other draped uncomfortably across his hip.

Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to have no qualms whatsoever as to where to put his hands. In an instant, one arm had snaked under Harry’s shoulder, while the other hand explored Harry’s chest. Malfoy leaned forwards to take Harry’s lips in a kiss.

Harry was almost too shocked to respond, but his arm found its way around Malfoy’s bare waist, brushing the groove of his back, and he kissed back enthusiastically, aware that Malfoy could withdraw his willingness at any moment.

Their mouths moved together, drawing Harry to a higher level than he’d ever known. He’d never gone so far as to be half-naked with another person before, and he melted against Malfoy’s body as pliant as warm butter.