While Narcissus was potentially somewhat flustered as he sought distraction and proceeded to bustle about the room, Clue was cool and still in contrast, watching him steadily. Now that they had kissed, he was hungry for another round. But he knew Narcissus would not allow it. Not until the Summer, when they could steal moments of true privacy.

Clue had met people who'd wanted to kiss him before — but that had not been a good thing. In fact that had been a very bad thing. For he'd been a vulnerable orphan on the streets, a pretty little lost boy, and men had approached him with ill intent. The magic running through his veins had saved him, and he'd felt a dire sort of pleasure at inflicting (albeit accidental) pain on those who'd wish to harm him. In one memorable incident, a man had reached out to grab his arm and had appeared to get electrocuted by it.

He would never wish pain on Narcissus, he'd never back away from him, he'd never feel fear as he approached. The look in the older Slytherin's eyes had been so very far from the look in the eyes of those menacing strangers.

And despite all that, he'd never considered any sort of physical contact; not until that afternoon they'd spent by the Lake. "Me neither", he replied. "I think it is something a gentleman and his wife are supposed to do", he theorised, frowning slightly. He was not sure where he'd got that idea from.