"Sorry," James murmurs, but it's clear that he's not. He's smiling, actually, righty against Scorpius's mouth, his fingers sliding against his side now. The hand on the back of his neck gives him goosebumps, makes something twist wonderfully in his stomach, but he couldn't help himself: he digs his fingers in, trying to tickle his side with one hand as he holds him firmly in his lap with the other.