Um. I don't know. Reviews are appreciated, my mind has just taken permanent residence in smut town.
"Don't you think it's a bit weird that suddenly our son is friends with Malfoy's little heir?"
"Gin you're over reacting,"
"Am I? Albus is just a shy, honest little boy,"
"He's sixteen for crying-,"
"Sixteen and completely oblivious, Harry. What if Scorpius is…using him somehow,"
"Using him? Come off it now…the Malfoy's may still be pompous idiots but they don't exactly practice extortion anymore."
Even though I couldn't see their faces from my seat on the stair, I could picture my mother's pale, gently lined face creasing in worry.
"Ginny, I see Draco all the time at the Ministry. We bid hello and how are you then we part our separate ways. We stay out of each other's affairs. We rarely even have anything to talk about except for the weather."
My father always wanted to see the good in people. I could be the same exact same way. My brother and sister and cousins all hated Scorpius Malfoy for no other reason except that their parents disliked the whole family. Scor's grandfather died before he was even born. How was he supposed to deal with their animosity towards a memory?
"It's just…strange. I'm happy Albus finally has a friend other than his cousins, but…I dunno,"
I heard my father sigh. Perhaps he pulled my mother into an embrace because he sounded a bit muffled.
"He's just fine. Scorpius seems like any other teenager."
He was just any other teenager. That's what people always failed to understand. Scorpius seemed arrogant and completely rude at first, even to me. I had heard so many things about his family that I assumed I would be meeting some tornado of a person. Blond hair and cold eyes piercing me in all my classes. I would have to watch my back in the corridors, James told me. Scorpius was sure to try to curse me the first chance he got. Only nothing like that happened at all. In fact we didn't even exchange words until we were twelve, in Herbology class. He asked me to pass him the watering can. I nearly wet myself. All of the stereotyping and fear had been total rubbish. We weren't exactly friends after that, in fact we never were friends. I only told my parents that because the idea of telling them I was dating Scorpius seemed as reasonable as telling them I wanted to quit school and backpack in the Alps with the Scamander's. The way my Mum reacted when I mentioned casually over Christmas dinner that I was spending my studying time with Draco Malfoy's only child, (yes the little heir, no he isn't a spoiled little prat, James, eat your pudding), she nearly fainted. My dad looked surprised, but he also seemed kind of proud of me. I'm sure he wouldn't be so proud if he knew that 'studying' meant snogging with casual frontal groping in a broom closet.
I ran up to my room after hearing their little parental chat about me and Scor. My mum thought it was weird…maybe it was weird. But as long as she didn't suspect that we were more than mates, I didn't care. My biggest fear (besides flying insects and having sex), was anyone finding out how I felt. People took it out on me enough at school. I was the middle child. James was the athlete, Lily was the brain. I would never play as well as James, even though I was a pretty good Seeker, and I would never have the grades Lily had, even though I was one of the best in my year. In a way it made sense that my social skills were completely fucked up.
The door to my bedroom was already open. I flung myself into the unmade bed. Letters from Scor bounced lightly into the air before falling back onto my covers. Normally I wouldn't leave something like that out in the open, but he was more afraid about people finding out than I was, actually. His letters were short and vague, but I appreciated that he sent anything to me over the holiday.
I told him that he didn't have to do anything. I was always telling Scorpius that he didn't need to do extra nice things for me. But he hated when I told him that just being with him was enough. It was enough, more than, really. Scorpius made a face whenever I said things like that. So slowly I just adapted to saying them in my mind.
I hope you read those notes I let you borrow from Ancient Runes, because I need them back when we return to school.
I miss you.'
I hope you like this present…took me ages to find a copy of it. The first song makes me think of you, especially the day we skipped Charms class.
He wasn't romantic or anything. I'm not really the type to be hovering over anyone either, with the whole candy and flowers routine. I think Scorpius thought I was for the longest time. He looked so constipated whenever we went anywhere together. I kept reminding him to relax and just enjoy being out of class for a change. He went from shooting me weird looks to smiling whenever we managed to scrape an hour alone by ourselves. Usually I enjoyed a break from Hogwarts, but being apart from Scorpius was actually grating on my nerves.
I laid back with my head against the soft pillow, eyes slipping closed as my brain traveled to the last time I had seen the blond. We had decided it was another class period that could be skipped. Vector only played games the last day before winter break. The broom closet on the fifth floor isn't exactly the most ideal spot to hang out. But we made do by stuffing the buckets and mops in front of the door. There was even enough floor space for one person to sit down. This was Scorpius' favorite closet for that very reason. The prissy little Slytherin who fussed over spilling potion on his robes in class had no problem sliding down the dirt covered wall if I was simultaneously falling into his lap. It wasn't comfortable at all, especially if the snogging escalated and I could feel his hard on brushing indirectly against my backside. Whether or not he did it on purpose was up for debate…
"Scor, a broom handle is in dangerous proximity to my eye socket," I mumbled into his mouth.
"Sorry. Budge up then," he pulled me further up his chest until we were nearly lying flat. I could feel his erection prod my stomach, and I secretly hoped he couldn't feel mine.
Warm arms encircled my waist, making the trip to the startlingly cold stone floor completely worth the time. His hands pulled the back of my shirt out of my pants. We always took off our cloaks and ties before even attempting anything in a closet. It took expert knowledge to recognize the clothing as choking hazards. I felt Scor's rough, warm palms slide up inside my shirt to touch my bare skin. As always, it was an incredible feeling to have him touch me. I couldn't explain it if he ever asked, but just being pressed up against Scorpius was exhilarating. With my head against his chest, I could hear his heart beat slowly increase as his hands stroked my back. I already knew my own heart sounded like an overjoyed Puffskein. His shirt was open a little at the collar. I lifted my head up to kiss the pale bit of skin exposed beneath his neck. A fluttery soft sound came out of Scorpius. A wave of warmth spread down my spine, because I knew that I was the only person to have ever heard him make that sound.
His hands came around my sides and awkwardly to my front. His fingers slid in the tight space between my belt and my abdomen. My initial reaction was to completely stop breathing.
"Albus…" Scorpius' voice was throaty and a bit scratchy. "Is this okay?"
"Er…" Was it? I wasn't sure. I hadn't ever kissed anyone before Scorpius, not really, unless you counted kissing my first year girlfriend on the cheek at mealtimes. No one had ever touched me except me, and even I wasn't that impressed by myself.
I felt his fingers move away from my waistband. Shit.
"If you don't want to I understand. Not exactly the best date, being in a closet…" Scorpius sounded sad, which was his default approach. There wasn't too many things that made the blond happy…music, old books; he had a fondness for this really disgusting tea that I couldn't stand, the Ballycastle Bats, this ratty old teddybear, and me. But to be honest if the bear, Chase Williams from the Bats, and me were burning in a fire, I think Scorpius would be most earnest to save the stupid toy.
"Stop saying that. I don't mind. I prefer the bloody closet to nothing at all."
"I wish I could kiss you in front of people."
My heart practically exploded. It wasn't even a problem that we were the same sex…it was that he was a Malfoy and I was a Potter, and it was a complete disaster if we were anything less than mortal enemies. Scor referenced a Muggle play a lot called Romeo and Juliet. After teasing him mercilessly about the prefect pureblood actually touching a Muggle anything, I had to admit that the story fit us a little too much, sadly. Not that I was about to go and kill myself, that would be entirely over-dramatic I couldn't imagine anyone killing Scorpius either, of course. My cousins were all talk and no action. The older ones didn't even comment on Scorpius anymore. Teasing him had even lost the novelty. But we both knew what would happen if our classmates saw us together, even as friends. Old rivalries would stir. People would talk. He was more afraid of that than I was; I knew it even though it was never said out loud.
"I'm going to tell my parents." I blurted out into the grey and white shadows of the broom closet.
"…really?" Scor's voice was close, by my earlobe.
"I want to see what they say about us being friends,"
He sounded almost upset.
"You want me to tell them what we really are?"
"What are we, really?"
I sat up off him, sliding back down as he slowly sat up. I was in his lap again. I pushed the brooms away from my face, making them fall loudly to the floor.
"You told me we shouldn't label it."
Scorpius was chewing on his lip. It was nearly purple from me biting it earlier. "Maybe I want to call it something,"
I blushed. "Then what is it?"
"I dunno." I could see his perfect, white smile even in the darkness. "A friendship with benefits?"
I weakly punched his arm. "It never was just a friendship."
"No, it never was."
We had started talking in a detention. Something so completely juvenile and simple. Suddenly we were kissing on top of my desk when Flitwick walked out of the classroom, leaving us alone. We were together after that night. It was never named; we never said out loud that we were going on a date. People whispered about us occasionally, but he would walk slightly behind me, or I behind him, or we met after hours or in shadowy closets and classrooms. It was never perfect but it was enough. That was what I constantly tried to make the blond understand.
I took Scor's hands in mine and put them on my thighs. "Touch me,"
I said it so softly that I thought maybe he hadn't heard me. Maybe part of me didn't want to be heard. But I felt movement after a few seconds. My belt was being undone, slowly, carefully. He pulled the leather back out of the metal clasp too hard and swatted his own hand. I must have chuckled because he told me to shut up. The belt slid out of the fabric loops. The movement felt too slow and made my stomach warm and I sensed a churning, aching feeling spreading down into my abdomen. Maybe I was just hypersensitive, I kept thinking anxiously. Why else would everything Scorpius did feel so intoxicating? I had never been drunk before, but at that moment I could imagine what it felt like. Fingers were prodding, fumbling while unbuttoning my trousers. I had an urge to just do it myself, but before I could even turn the idea into an action, Scorpius was making me sit up so he could do something. I didn't hear anything he said. It all sounded like nonsense in my clouded head. I did sit up though and felt fabric sliding down to my knees. The skin on my thighs and legs tensed up at the cold temperature of the closet. At least, maybe it was the cold; it could have been the raging hard on that was gradually developing inside my underwear. Plus the fact that Scorpius' hand was sliding back and forth over the aforementioned erection, I guess I can't even pretend I noticed how cold it was in the broom closet.
I was urged back down into Scorpius' lap. His fingers pulled the elastic of my underwear a few inches off of my skin. I watched as his hand went inside the dark, fabric vortex only to feel his rough hand on my prick. My spine straightened completely as I sat rigid up on his thighs. Warm lips met my temple, which was sweating, which was alarming.
"It's okay, Albus…I promise," Scorpius's voice was cracking. I suppose that's what you get when you put two virgin queers in a closet.
My cock was being tugged out of my safe haven of navy fabric. His hand cupped my balls too, giving them a soft squeeze that removed all coherent, 'turn back now' thoughts out of my head. All I could think about was that my cock was being stroked inside Scorpius' hand. Someone other than me was touching me and it was the most mind-blowing feeling I had ever come to discover. And, it was pretty special that I really cared for the person carrying out the action…I opened my eyes to see him looking right at me. Our faces came close enough to where I could feel his breath on my cheeks.
His hand was moving faster now. I felt as if all the blood in my body was being devoted to this one hard on. I swear I felt shaky; sitting perched on his warm lap. Suddenly feeling him up against my rear wasn't exactly the scariest thought. Then the wonderful feeling went away. Scorpius was no longer pumping my cock inside his hand, and the loss was practically devastating. I inched away to get a closer look at his reaction. He seemed to be contemplating something. His blond hair was a tangled mess. I hadn't even noticed, but I had been running my fingers through it during most of the encounter. I felt like a total idiot sitting there with my erection exposed with no place to go.
"Hold on…" he was shifting, taking me off his lap so fast I nearly bumped my head into the wall. He winced and apologized.
"What are you…"
I never got to say "doing."
Scorpius knelt on the ground, sliding his head between my barely parted thighs. There wasn't any room to move around. I had to let my hands come up to his shoulders. His kiss-bruised lips slid over my cock, licking the head gently. The sight was almost too much for me to see. Sensible thought drained out of my head again, along with any insecurity I had; I would have enough time to hate myself later. Scorpius slid my cock eagerly down his throat, moving faster once an intelligible moan came out of my mouth. I hoped that meant I was being encouraging. Because I was completely supportive of the turn of events. I watched, making pathetic sounds as his spit mixed with my precum. He let me watch the semi-invisible, spidery strings of saliva cling to his lips as they parted from my cock. Scorpius was actually teasing me, and it was more than enough, it was too much. His mouth hovered over me for a while longer, his hand around my balls rubbing and pressing them hard. Then he slid his lips nearly to the base of my prick and I did something I never imagined myself doing. I held his soft, blond head to my cock, making him choke a little as I came into the back of his throat. It was clumsy and weird, but we were clumsy and weird. Scorpius came up a second later; drops of my deed were on his chin and lips.
He looked so proud of himself. I was strangely proud of myself, even though embarrassment at being nearly naked was slowly settling in. I leaned forward and kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue. I was suddenly back in his lap again.
Things were so quiet. But it really wasn't a bad quiet. I could feel Scorpius' cock, semi-rigid and trapped in his trousers. He didn't ask me for anything, though, and I didn't offer. It was too soon, for me. Maybe he understood that already.
"I hope you tell your parents." Scorpius finally spoke. "I'll tell mine."
I didn't have to look to know he was gnawing his lips. "I will."
His hands fell to my sides and squeezed my rear, making me laugh against his mess of hair as we fell sideways against the wall of the broom closet.
My eyes opened to see my bedroom ceiling. That memory would probably be my most favorite memory, at least until my next close encounter with Scorpius. The more I processed it, and the thought of us, the more normal we seemed. Everyone would call us weird, but in reality we weren't. Inexperienced and a bit stupid, maybe, but we were only sixteen. People saw Scorpius and all they ended up really seeing was his attitude and his surname. He confessed to me later that I was the only person in five years to actually have a conversation with him. Sometimes when I felt like a real loser I wondered if he would have kissed any fool who finally decided to talk to him during a detention. But then maybe I was meant to be the fool all along.