At Al's call, Scorpius turned, looking up the grassy slope from where he stood at the side of the lake. For a moment Al's eyes were dazzled by the July sun flashing off the brightness of Scorpius' hair; he winced, shutting his eyes against the glare. When he opened them again, Scorpius was loping up the bank towards him, his face gleeful.
"You came to find me, then? Did you bring orange lollies?"
Scorpius scowled at him.
"Whenever I do, you always lick everything in a pornographic sort of way and it all ends in messy outdoor sex," Al explained. Scorpius opened his mouth to say he didn't see what was wrong with that, thanks, and he wanted his orange ice-lollies; Al forestalled him with "I thought we'd skip straight to that part."
Scorpius went blank and still for a moment in surprise. Then his face relaxed, his blue eyes going liquid and jaguar-lazy with lust, a wicked smile spreading over his pointed face. "All right." He said it in a drawl like melted tar, lazy and slow-moving and sizzling hot, releasing its pungency into the summer air. "Let's go and sit under the willow."
Al followed him down. He was already sweating through his white school shirt, his hair sticking to his temples. Scorpius was a little pink in the face – perhaps the start of sunburn, and Al would happily rub cream over him later – but his religious application of cooling charms meant he looked just as cool as ever.
Al slumped in the shadows of the sweet-smelling willow, staring up into its green tendrils. Scorpius slid down next to him, a long slide of gangly boy with knobbly wrists and an oddly-shaped mouth: his upper lip plump and bitable, his lower lip a thin line.
Al smiled at him. Their faces were closer, suddenly, and the air was rustling. Scorpius' pale face was patterned with light and shadow by the willow's branches.
"I like this." Scorpius whispered it into the space between them, like a secret.
"I knew you would," and they were kissing, wet and rushed. Al tried remembering everything he'd learnt about kissing, all the little tricks and swipes of tongue; but they weren't instinct yet and he couldn't think. Nobody could, not with Scorpius moaning and pressing close, tightening his hands on Al's hips, welcoming Al's tongue in his hot mouth. Scorpius slipped a hand under Al's damp, messy shirt, stroking the soft skin at the small of his back. Al moaned and squirmed nearer, his whole body straining for more heat and skin and sound. He lifted a leg automatically, seeking more contact; Scorpius made a sound that might have been a chuckle and bucked. Al gasped, his eyes clenching shut, at the feel of Scorpius hard between his thighs. Scorpius rocked against him, and Al half-rode his cock through both their trousers.
The stupid cloth was unbearable, and Al pulled back. Scorpius made a muffled sound of protest that got louder when their lips parted. Only Al was squirming downwards, his mouth heading unmistakably for Scorpius' crotch. In an instant the pained arch of Scorpius' body, all his muscles tight with frustrated lust, went limp and boneless. He spread his legs easily, arching his back for Al's fingers as they slid down his chest.
Al smiled and got rid of Scorpius' grey cotton trousers and serviceable white briefs. Desire and relief made his breathing go funny and his heart half-explode; but his mouth was on Scorpius' cock, and the hot shaft was filling his mouth, and Scorpius was groaning.
Nothing so wonderful as this.
Al sucked hard, and stroked the peach-fuzz of Scorpius' balls. Scorpius squirmed, and in a few minutes he was emptying himself down Al's throat.
Scorpius flung his arms over his head and lay limp. His chest was heaving and sweaty, finally.
"I think I've killed you," said Al, slightly smug.
Scorpius' eyes narrowed. There were confused moments of tackling, and then Al was sprawled on his back with Scorpius' hand on his cock and Scorpius' face inches from his. His eyes were wide and gleeful: he looked half-mad, but his fingers were doing amazing things. Al groaned uncontrollably, pressing his cock into Scorpius' hand.
Al stiffened suddenly – and not in orgasm. "Scorpius!" He pushed at Scorpius' hands; his boyfriend paid no attention, licking a long, wet stripe up his neck. Al half-spasmed under the touch and his worry. "I can hear people coming!"
Scorpius straddled Al, kneeling up to look for the other students. The voices weren't coming closer, but they were nearby.
Then Scorpius looked down at him. Al shuddered at the intent look in his darkened eyes, at the curve of the reddened lips. "You'll have to keep quiet." Al swallowed, anxiety singing through him. "Don't worry – I'll help you."
Scorpius' left hand landed firmly over his mouth. Al gasped in surprise, and felt an instant tightening in his lungs. Scorpius' hand was too heavy: he couldn't quite breathe.
And this was to keep him quiet, but Al recognised the gleam in Scorpius' eyes as he tightened his hand over Al's mouth. He leant still closer, his eyes intent, as Al felt his face getting redder. Scorpius was wanking him harder now, his sweaty grip uncompromising as it pulled pleasure from him.
Al's muffled moans and noises of slight protest were made muffled and wordless by Scorpius' hand and his own lust. The feeling of Scorpius wanking him was all his brain had room for in the absence of oxygen; oh God –
Al came, his body tingling and sparking and half-numb in places. Scorpius half-growled, triumphant, over the rush of blood in his ears.
He only took his hand away when Al had shuddered all through his climax. He remained straddling Al, while Al panted his way back to sanity.
Al smiled up at him, woozy but content. "Gimme a kiss."