It doesn't stop at Albus" crossing the line. Avery's trembling hand slides off Scorpius" cheek and fiddles with his trousers, a snap that barely gets through the static in his ears. As he lifts his hips to pull his jeans down, he pushes Scorpius off again, probably unintentionally, and a second later he presses his wet glans against Scorpius" cheek, enough to push the last puny remnant of his willpower over the edge.