714 words, by google docs
They say that kissing is the language of love. You wanna have a conversation?
Albus gives a sigh as he looks at the incoming message. He loves Scorpius, he really does, but this dinner meeting could be the turning point of his job. He shuts his phone off and slowly shakes his head at Scorpius, across the table. He needs to focus. That lasts for another thirty seconds before another text comes in from Scorpius again:
I'm just wondering here. Would your lips taste as good as they look? I'd like to try them.
Albus gives Scorpius A Look, trying to ignore how cute Scorpius looks with his hand pushed up in his hair. He will not give in.
I have some hard code I want to try your compiler on.
Albus has to stop himself from making an audible noise when the third text comes in. He shifts in his seat, trying to listen to what his boss is saying about their business plan.
If you were floorboards I would take out all the nails and screw you.
Of course he would. Because Scorpius is Scorpius. Albus sends him a glare as his boss continues to talk about the prices and the benefits. He needs this deal to go through.
Your lips look so lonely…. Would they like to meet mine?
Albus clenches his fist underneath the table. Doesn't Scorpius know how important this is? Is he trying to get Albus to—well, probably.
Hey, why don't you come sit on my lap and we can talk about the first thing that pops up?
That comment is completely unfair, Albus thinks. He shifts again in his seat, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. He always gives into Scorpius but not this time.
You make my floppy disk turn into a hard drive.
Albus can't help but silently agreeing with Scorpius on that one. He hates his boyfriend, really. Still, he's wondering if Scorpius is actually…
Do you work for a postal office? Because I could have sworn that you were just checking out my package.
He was not! Albus was just curious to see is Scorpius was actually hard at dinner, so maybe he pretended to drop his napkin. It doesn't matter. He won't give in.
Those are nice pants, do you think I could get in them?
Albus vows that, if he makes it through this dinner, Scorpius can get in his pants as much as he wants. He just needs to make this deal and then Scorpius can have him.
Nice pants. Can I test the zipper?
Albus thinks that maybe Scorpius is softening up—the texts seem to be getting tamer.
There is a big sale in my bedroom tonight. Clothes are 100 percent off.
Oh, there it is. Of course Albus was wrong.
I had a wet dream about you last night. Would you like to make it a reality?
Not now, Albus thinks, as loud as he can. Maybe Scorpius will get the hint.
Let me insert my plug into your socket and we can generate some electricity.
Albus really doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Straining his ears, he tries to concentrate to see if they're close to a deal yet. Almost, almost…
You should sell hot dogs, because you already know how to make a wiener stand.
Albus knows it's unprofessional, but he needs to adjust his pants. This really isn't fair.
When I see you, the sea levels are not the only ones rising…
That's it. Albus is actually about to burst. He just needs them to shake hands…
I'm not going to stop until you screw me in the bathroom
Albus sighs, slipping his phone into his pocket. He gets up, looking at his colleagues.
"I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back."
They nod and Albus makes his way to the bathroom. He doesn't need to look to see if Scorpius is following; he knows he is. Once inside, Albus whirls around, coming face to face with Scorpius. He grabs his arm and presses his head against the wall, crashing their lips together.
"Is this what you want?" Albus asks, pulling away, his chest rising and lowering.
"You're sexy when angry," Scorpius notes. Albus presses their lips together once more.
