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“Fuck, Evan,” James groaned, his head tipping back to give Evan better access to the point on James’ throat where he was trying to leave his mark.
Evan smiled and nipped him, earning himself a couple moaned curses. The hands around his back pulled him closer, closing the distance between them.
Evan pushed himself up and onto his knees, trailing kisses down James’ chest. He steadied himself, gripping James’ hips as he sucked along James’ stomach, leaving more marks as he went.
James only got louder as Evan worked, and he was glad he’d remembered to lock the door. Practice room four was very well soundproofed to drown out various instruments, but the last thing they needed was someone overhearing them and trying to investigate.
Evan glanced up and met James’ eyes. They grinned at each other for a moment before Evan dropped back down to his work. He wondered how low he could get before James started begging. He paused as the door handle jiggled, but kept going, confident it was locked.
There was a moment of silence before the lock turned with a click. Evan’s eyes went wide and he flew back, fumbling for his clarinet.
“What’s wrong?” James asked. Before he could get his answer the door swung open. James cursed and grabbed his saxophone, sticking the reed in his mouth to soften it.
“I appreciate the dedication in practicing at lunch, but is there a reason Mr. Potter isn’t wearing a shirt?” Professor McGonagall, their music teacher, stood in the door, glancing between both boys. Evan’s best friend, Regulus, hovered behind her, his brother Sirius at his side.
“Sorry, Professor,” Evan rushed. “We were just hot.”
“Are you sure about that?” Regulus muttered. Evan shot him a glare.
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. “Regulus and Sirius have this room booked. Unless they’d like an audience while they practice, I suggest you make yourselves decent and enjoy your break somewhere else.”
“Professor,” Evan began.
“Quickly, Mr. Rosier,” she interrupted before turning and walking away.
“Thanks, Minnie!” James called after her. Evan kicked his foot.
“Put your shirt on.” He started packing up his instrument.
James reached for his shirt but Sirius lunged forward and snagged it first. “Are those hickeys, Potter?”
James nodded, grinning at his best friend.
“You bloody did it, didn’t you? He said yes?”
James nodded again.
Sirius tossed his shirt to him. “Good bloody job, Prongs! What’d I tell you, Reg? I knew he’d be able to do it.”
Regulus wordlessly passed Sirius a five pound note. He dropped down beside Evan and started unpacking his own instrument. He nudged Evan’s knee with a sly smile.
“You’ve got a lot to tell me tonight.”
Evan couldn’t stop the grin that took over his face. “I will.”
Sirius and James were still discussing excitedly, so Evan put away James’ sax for him. He stole the reed straight from the other man’s mouth, his thumb dragging at his bottom lip just long enough for it to be noticeable.
James’ gaze followed Evan as he finished up, and his conversation with Sirius died. Evan pulled James to his feet. “We’ll let you practice.” They left, Evan’s hand never leaving James’ wrist and James’ eyes never leaving Evan’s face.
The door shut behind them and Sirius turned to his brother. “Bloody queers,” he muttered.
Regulus stared at him. “So,” he started, raising an eyebrow. “Remus?
Sirius paused. “Shut up.”