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“That one’s a cow. That one’s a ship.” Al lies on his back and points out familiar objects in the clouds’ shapes.
“Why are we doing this again?” Scorpius asks, aware of the grass that pokes the exposed skin above his waistband.
“It’s fun.” Albus doesn’t say duh but it’s there. “C’mon. You did this when you were little.”
Scorpius is aghast. “Lie on the cold, wet ground in my good clothes? Grandfather would’ve been furious.”
“Then how about because it’s easier to kiss you this way?” Al rolls onto his side and pulls Scorpius closer.
That makes perfect sense.