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Harry ignored Ron’s gaping and spluttering, his eyes glued on his lover.
Bill slunk across the stage, chains crisscrossing over faux leather trousers, sweat chasing down his chest, tattoos writhing. The hip bones and treasure trail Harry loved to nibble, on clear display as he gyrated up to the microphone.
“That’s B-Bill!”
“Mmmhmm.”
“But Harry!”
Harry shrugged the hand off his shoulder. He’d agreed to this boys night out with Ron and Seamus who’d shown up, looking pathetically alone on Valentine’s Day. They’d snapped up the passes he had to the concert, assuming it was a Boy-Who-Lived thing.
But Harry had come only for Bill.
His eyes slid half-shut, his hips swaying. He knew Bill saw him lick his lips.
The beat pounded through his bloodstream as Bill tossed his hair back and sang him a song. He felt every word.
Everyone pulls at something
Pulls hard, fast, easy, and slow
Everyone needs their one thing
And wants you to light their glow
You’re the smoke in their eyes
You’re the star in their skies
And they’ll pull you to bits
To find something that fits
But I’m here to hold you fast
I’ll give you a love that’ll last