How long can a dream last?

Albus Potter turned on hot water for his shower. The water blasted into the tiles, steam quickly filling up the room. He had already stripped off his pajamas and as soon as the water was ready he stepped into the stall. The sizzling spray hit off his skin like a waterfall. He made no move though to actually clean himself. Instead he sat down on the floor with his knees to his chest.

Not very long. It's already slipping from my mind.

Being sixteen, the young Gryffindor had lived a very carefree life up until now. His parents were well-to-do, famous, and extremely kind. His extended family was the very same. He was well liked by his peers. His older brother James sometimes teased and embarrassed him, but nothing over the top. However, his sixth year at school was tainted with so many seemingly small and insignificant events. Lorcan Scamander, a family friend and almost a relative, had unknowingly bewitched the middle Potter child. Albus found himself not only head over heels in love, but in obsession. He watched the blond teen's every move. Heard every word he spoke in conversation. Attended every social gathering Lorcan decided to join. And the Scamander twin was never the wiser of Albus's intent. He treated him like one might treat a close cousin. Friendly, but simply just friendly. Nothing intimate. Nothing like what Albus truly desired. At first the poor Gyrffindor berated himself for his desires. Called himself disturbed and sick. How could he dare want another bloke like that? But every day he became used to the ideas, the lust. The disgust ebbed away every time he wanked under his blankets. The only thing keeping Albus away from confessing to Lorcan was fear. Fear of rejection. And that fear was so consuming that it nearly drove Albus away from talking to the boy altogether.

I can't possibly be more pathetic right now.

Albus slowly lay back against the rough tiles of the shower. He was at school and only had a short time in the loo alone. It was almost six in the morning and soon the other boys from Gryffindor would storm the bathroom with chatting and commotion.

He rubbed his palm over his cock slowly. It was already slightly aroused just by thinking of the lovely blond. That made Albus feel a bit guilty, but only a bit. He pictured Lorcan in the shower with him. Imagining the fifteen year old with him only made Albus's cock twitch. He was getting pretty good at the whole fantasy thing. Soon he could almost feel Lorcan's soft hands on his thighs. The look on his face as he kissed the head of the Gryffindor's erection.

He'd say "I want to slide it down my throat Al. I want to taste you." I know that he would want to. I'd grip that gorgeous mane of blond hair and push my cock down his warm throat. He'd kiss it. Lick it. Touch it. All with that same fucking look on his face that he gets when something else completely enthralls him. Everything bloody interests Lorcan. He loves every second of everyday of his life…

Albus was on his knees, thrusting his erection in his fist. Back and forth. His rough palms enhanced the friction of his movements. Sometimes being a Quidditch player had additional and unusual perks. One was his hands were always dry and calloused from holding and gripping his broomstick. It truly enhanced his experiences with his other broomstick. His head tipped back as he tried not to moan. Lorcan would kiss him. He would swallow all of Albus's moans and noises just as he would suck on his cock.

What I would give to see his face while he sits on me…I fucking need him up against me. His smell. His skin. I'd fill him up and make him whole. Just like he makes me a whole person. And he doesn't even know. Has no bloody clue. He'd get one in this stall with me. I'll throw him into the wall. Spread him and press my tongue hard against his arse. Taste every inch of him. Lorcan. He has to be a virgin…

Albus came on his hand. He watched his seed swirl down the shower drain. The passion and lust were soon replaced with sadness, want, and regret. He needed his Lorcan. And yes, in his own mind the blond was always his property. It was sick and wrong but it would always feel so right to Albus. He was sure he had even called out Lorcan's name a few times during his wanking session. Luckily no one had been in the loo this early.

The Gyrffindor turned off the water and reached out to grab his dark red towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out onto the cold floor. But once he rubbed his eyes and looked up, Albus nearly fell right back into the shower.

Lorcan Scamander was standing right in front of him. His pajama pants-, bright blue printed with clouds-, were tented. The young boy obviously had a hard-on. But his face looked curious. Not embarrassed. Not ashamed of being in the wrong loo. Just curious. He ran his hand through his long wave of blond hair.

"Finally caught me, Al."

Albus's mouth fell into a huge 'O' shape. "Huh…? What are you…why are you in here!"

He sounded guilty and exasperated. He seemed like the complete opposite of the younger wizard, who was always collected and calm.

Lorcan snickered softly. "I know it's a bit…wrong. But I like to listen to you wank. Especially…when I overhear my name. Maybe I wanted to get caught."

Albus felt his cheeks redden. "I- didn't, I…"

"Shh, love. I'm sure the other Gryffindor blokes will be here soon…" Lorcan pressed two fingers to his friend's lips.


"That's better." The blond moved his fingers and instead pressed his mouth against Albus's.

The older boy responded by kissing him back hard and fast. Their lips parted and he could taste Lorcan's tongue and teeth. He had always dreamt of kissing the little blond Ravenclaw, but having him there in his arms was an entirely different, though brilliant, feeling.

Albus couldn't wait for the rest of his dreams to come true. And by the way Lorcan clung to him, he was sure he would get all needed and more.