Scorpius moans. He likes when he can push James to the point of willingness. Or past it, as it seems he has now. Likes when James is the one pulling him in for a change, shoving his tongue into his mouth, and Scorpius feels really, truly wanted. Needed, even. Loved.

It's the reminder of James's little confession over the telephone that has Scorpius rocking against him, groping down his body, sliding a hand between James's legs.

"...bedroom," he hums, a minute later.