Flirting
"Do you remember the plan?" George turns to look at Lee and rests a hand on his shoulder. The black boy sends down some saliva and tries not to think that if he gets a few more inches closer he will end up kissing him. He wouldn't respect the plan, but it would be one of those daring moves the twins like to make.
"I go into the office, tell him Snape is much needed down at the Quidditch pitch, so when Filch comes out you're free to look for matches." The twin smiles, causing an inevitable shift to the right of the freckles near his lips. They would do the same thing if Jordan's mouth were against his.
Lee approaches the half-closed door and knocks with the knuckle of his left index finger. They soon discover that the janitor's office is empty. "Come on, get over here."
"You have the wand too, you can proceed without me."
Jordan holds all the breath in his body as he slowly observes him: his dark eyes stop in George's brown ones, who raises his head as if to challenge him. There is no contest, however, if both have victory in their pockets. The twin steps forward and leans against the doorframe. "You need me, don't you?"
"You're the one who asked me to come." Lee reminds him, crossing his arms over his chest and pondering his next move. It should be to call out the matches, but it takes more of the folds than another step toward his roommate. George greets him, little matter that there are barely six inches separating them in front of the janitor's office. Or rather, it matters that there are so many.
"Did I?" Now he breathes in Lee's air, which has the sweet taste of the butterbeer he drank earlier.
Jordan laughs, using his index finger and thumb to clutch George's sweater. "Did you want to do that?" It's all there at the end, in the distance they have allowed themselves to reduce, in the glances they cast at each other now and then in the Common Room and then in every corner of the castle.
George smiles, the inches become millimeters. "For a while." He confesses to him, as freckles dance yet another spot on his face.
Lee's lips brush against those of his twin, briefly savoring their folds and taking in their shape. They are not in time to squeeze tighter, for Jordan catches a feline movement out of the corner of his eye, "There's that damn cat."
"And where there's a damn cat, there's a damn bird, too. Let's make this quick." George leans his head against the doorframe and takes a long breath. That's when Lee's hand slips off his sweater and they step into the office.
"Accio matches."