Scorpius holds his eye contact, long after James looks away. He's not a bad looking bloke, after all. Almost as good looking as Al. Both of them are, sadly, Scorpius's type. Or as much a type as he's old enough to think he has.

"About you punching me for bragging about blowing him?" he scoffs, flying a little closer, able to read James's body well enough to know when he's turning or pulling up. "Don't be daft. I wouldn't be here if I had, and you certainly wouldn't have gone unscathed." Al would have at least hexed him once or twice.