He did part his lips, just a bit at first, testing the grounds as it were. It was really no different than kiss any one else. Avery's lips were as warm as Adelaide's, his skin was as soft. It was firmer, but...better.

Shit, he thought to himself, before breaking off that kiss and pulling away. Had he really just done that? Had he really just kissed a boy out on the quodpot field?

"Merde," he repeated in French, looking away from Avery as he pulled his hand away...but he made no effort to untangle himself from the boy's grasp. Instead he sat there, looking as confused about everything as he felt.

Was he really doing this? Right now?