Reasons By xMissSalazar
Fandom: Harry Potter!
Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius :)
Summary: Albus Potter is in love with his best friend, and his brother James is an absolute git. Slash. Next-gen. Albus/Scorpius.
Dedication: To the wonderful JuicyPumpkin for requesting this delightful little one-shot. I'm supposed to use the word(s) "supermegaawesomefoxyhot".
A/N: Alright, I admit, I've been more than a little lazy. I just posted a one-shot a few days ago-alright, a few months ago, and I'm hoping that writing this will give me the bit of will power that I've been needing. I'm working on a little DM/HP multichap, and though I'm not sure when It will be out, I'm hoping it will end up pretty successful.
I hope you enjoy this, though I didn't get much direction from the request. ;) I wrote it listening to Paramore's "The Only Exception" among a few other songs, a few being OneRepublic's "Good Life." and the Temper Trap's "Sweet Disposition." I had a playlist especially for this little story. :)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.
Please enjoy!
Albus Potter grasped a quill between his fingers tightly, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.
"Hey Al?"
Albus jumped. Scorpius. Just the name sent shivers down his spine.
"Al?" Scorpius repeated. The quill fumbled between Albus's fingers, then fell to the barely marred piece of parchment in front of him. He sighed.
"Yes, Scorpius?" Albus replied, glancing up at the blond Malfoy across from him. The Slytherin was splayed across Albus's four-poster, a half written Transfiguration essay resting in front of him atop his most recent conquest from the library. The Malfoy's text book was opened to page 239 and his silver ink well was teetering on the binding between pages 239 and 240.
"Are you going to actually start writing your essay now?" Scorpius narrowed his eyes and gestured with his quill at Al's feeble attempt at a Potion's essay.
"I am writing my essay." Al replied, scribbling a few words to prove himself.
Scorpius rolled his silver eyes, tapping his pointed chin with an elegant, pale, fingertip. A black smudge of ink was left there.
"You've written approximately 3 sentences in forty five minutes, Albus." Scorpius chastised. "What's got you so distracted?"
Albus almost snorted aloud. He honestly didn't know how he could be more obvious than he was already, and he wasn't even trying.
"Scorpius, this essay is due next Wednesday. I'm simply being proactive, Mr. Night-Before." Al retorted, dodging his friend's question. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his own chin to alert the blonde of the smudge's presence on his.
"What?" Scorpius asked, raising his hand to his face and succeeding in wiping the smudge down his neck toward his collarbone. His delicious, scrumptious, wonderful ne- "Did I get it?"
Albus scoffed, reaching over and brushing his palm against the smudge to wipe it away. Al found his hand lingering on the Malfoy's chin and couldn't pull his eyes away from how pink Scorpius's lips were. Albus's breath grew shallow as he brushed a finger over Scorpius's pale bottom lip. A lump was steadily forming in the dark haired boy's throat again.
Albus felt Scorpius's eyebrows raise minutely. Al bit his lip, becoming increasingly aware of his breathing.
"Alb-"
Albus's bent torso knocked the teetering inkwell from the Transfiguration textbook's binding and onto the faded pages, interrupting Scorpius's thought.
Albus felt himself inhale abruptly. He leaned back, snatching his wand from the side table and flicking it at the spill spreading through the textbook's pages.
"So, um." Scorpius seemed to falter, smiling at Al. "I was just remembering what Professor Flitwick told us in Charms the other day about essays..." Scorpius was gone again, this time rambling about one thing or another, which gave Albus time to ogle him once more. He glanced up at the Malfoy's pristine lips and imagined what it would be like to kiss them. Albus forced his eyes downward again. Returning to his essay, Albus sighed inwardly.
Albus could deal with many things, but this sexual tension wasn't one of them. Literally all that Al could seem to think about anymore was pushing Scorpius up against a wall, a desk, or for Merlin's sake, a table in the Great Hall, and putting those pretty lips to better use.
Albus glanced up at the Slytherin and began the task of distracting himself from a small piece of hair that had fluttered in front of Scorpius's eyes and was currently the object of Albus's affections. Al knew why Scorpius was a Slytherin, and it wasn't because Draco, or Lucius before him, had been sorted as such. Scorpius showed passion in everything he did. Al wondered why, if Scorpius was so passionate, that he couldn't come together with Albus and make even more passion in a dark room.
Scorpius meant too much to Albus for his feelings to ruin the six-and-a-half-year friendship that had kept the two close. And that, Albus claimed, was what had kept him from shagging the boy senseless against a library shelf for almost two years.
Albus was beginning to find it hard to convince himself that this was reason enough.
Albus looked at his parchment again and decided to succumb to his fate. After battling the same paragraph for 10 minutes, he doubted that much more was going to be accomplished. He grabbed his wand from the side table and cast a quick Tempus charm.
"Score." Al called to the blonde, who appeared unnaturally immersed in his essay. The blonde muttered a noncommittal grunt in response. "We should get to dinner."
At the mention of food, Scorpius rolled up his parchment, capped his inkwell and threw his text book haphazardly into his shoulder bag. "Only six inches left, Al." He said, slipping into his shoes. "I'm on fire."
"'Mon Albus!" The Potter heard Scorpius's voice from the hallway.
"I'm coming! Merlin!" Al said, snatching his bag and hoisting it across his shoulder as Scorpius's head appeared around the corner again. Scorpius never had much patience, Al mused, especially when it came to eating. Albus crossed the room and followed his best friend down the stairs toward the Slytherin common room.
A fifth year passed suddenly in front of the pair, drawing Scorpius to a halt. Al was pushed against Scorpius's back suddenly, too distracted with buckling his shoulder bag to stop a reasonable distance from the other boy. His hands shot out for purchase as he could feel himself falling backward.
Scorpius was the only available surface in the vacinity and, inconveniently, Albus felt his hands close on the boy's hips. Scorpius's hands fell atop his own and Al heard the Malfoy chuckle, probably at Albus's lack of awareness. Albus's breath caught again. That laugh.
Being slightly taller than Scorpius, Al's nose was pressed against the back of Scorpius's head. He breathed in the blonde's unique scent. Al thought he felt Score's breath hitch, but the Potter thought he was probably only imagining the jolt.
Scorpius's head turned slowly and gazed up at him and Al almost died right there because he looked so innocent and wonderful and-
Tristan Nott strolled past the pair. Both boys separated with unspoken swiftness. "I just knew you were staring at my dick in the Quidditch showers." The Seventh year sneered, a gob of spittle landing on Scorpius's nose. Of the two, Scorpius seemed more upset about the spittle than the insinuation that just left Nott's mouth.
Scorpius scoffed at the feeble attempt at an insult. "Don't give yourself so much credit, Wood. I do have taste." He scoffed, wiping the spit from his nose and onto Nott's robes.
Albus remained quiet as Tristan pushed passed the two. Scorpius's eyes seemed glued to the ground. Suddenly, his expression changed and he smiled up at Albus, grabbing his wrist once more. "Come on, Al." He smiled, and The Potter wondered how someone could smile so quickly after an interaction like what had just occurred.
"Oh, right, the Great Hall" Albus nodded. Scorpius's smile was rather contagious, and Al found himself wearing one as he jumped down the stairs into the Slytherin common room.
Scorpius hummed as he sliced his chicken breast into even pieces. Albus smiled, glancing at the boy from his peripherals.
"Brother dearest." At the familiar voice, Albus groaned quietly and he thought he heard Scorpius chuckle under his breath.
"James." Albus greeted, lifting a fork full of chicken into his mouth.
"Today is quite beautiful. Maybe you should go outside for a bit. You know, to talk about things, maybe. With some people, you know."
Albus breathed in deeply, muttering a warning under his breath.
"Oh, Scorpius." James smiled at the younger boy, patting him on the shoulder. "Aren't you looking quite nice today." Albus cleared his throat. "Some might even say you're looking...Super-mega-awesome-foxy-hot."
Albus pushed away from the table quickly, calling the attention of a few startled Slytherins seated beside Scorpius and himself. He looked upward at the Great Hall's ceiling. The rafters were visible clearly through the barely present cover of spotty clouds. Quoting a poorly written poem found in Albus's bedroom was a low blow, and Al was willing to do anything to get away from his deranged brother's excuse for humor.
"Scorpius?" Albus asked suddenly. Albus grasped for reason.
"Hm?" Scorpius replied, setting his utensils on the edge of his plate and turning to Albus.
"I was just, Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go outside and watch the sunset; get some fresh air." Albus forced a smile, but regretted the words immediately after they left his mouth.
"Okay." Scorpius replied, standing from the bench and grabbing his bag. Scorpius strolled toward the Great Hall's doors. Albus sighed and glared at James as he pushed past his smirking older brother.
Albus caught up to the blond a few yards from the doors to the grounds. Scorpius pushed open the gigantic slabs of wood, breathing in the distinct smell of a Hogwart's sunset.
Albus glanced around the landscape. He had to admit, it was a beautiful day. The Potter could barely hear the sound of cicada's buzzing from trees deposited sparsely around the grounds and farther, the frame of the Forbidden Forest. The sound of a few chirping birds was barely audible and a soft wind blew across the hillside. Al's eyes rested on the Black lake where he saw the sun beginning to set over the mountains, casting a glow across the water's murky surface.
"Where to?" Scorpius asked, appearing to have taken a similar appraisal of the grounds as Al.
Albus gestured silently toward a small outcropping of a few trees a few feet from the black lake's waters. The gnarled trunks were a dark mahogany and the green of the leaves were beginning to darken.
The two boys approached the largest tree that faced the water's edge. Scorpius sat, placing his shoulder bag to his left and stretching his long, trousered legs out in front of him.
Al sat down next to the Malfoy, crossing his legs and snatching an auburn leaf from the ground, fiddling with it between his tanned fingers.
Scorpius's eyes had fluttered closed. The setting sun's rays filtered across his face, illuminating his jaw and making him look the epitome of an angel. His hair was white- just like his father's- and was golden in the light's reflection, fluttering with the breeze. His perfect, ivory skin looked, and Albus assumed felt, smooth to the touch. His slim build was outlined perfectly by his knit sweater. A soft smile was painted across his perfect, pink lips.
Albus swallowed and gazed out at the horizon. The sun's outline cast an aurora of colors across the sky.
"Scorpius?" Albus whispered.
Scorpius turned his head to look at his friend and Albus suddenly wished he'd said nothing at all earlier in the Great Hall. Albus knew first hand that when one harbored secret feelings for one's best friend, telling the receiver of those feelings the truth was not the easiest of things to do. But Al knew. If ever there was a time, it was now.
Albus's eyes wandered, trailing down Scorpius's pale, perfect neck and down a slender shoulder to where the adolescent's hand lay, fiddling mindlessly with a blade of grass. Albus figured that his gaze had held for a little two long when Scorpius flicked that piece of grass from his fingertips, bringing them to his lap and turning his head slightly.
Albus's eyes flicked to his friend's throat, where the blonde's adam's-apple was shifting nervously, and back to the boy's face, where a curious flush had spread across his cheeks.
He couldn't look at Scorpius any longer and turned away. There was a reason he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, he concluded. He was a bloody coward.
Albus was worried. Things had never been awkward with Scorpius. The two had always been able to communicate silently, with an exchanged glance or a minute twitch of the lips. Al had never been as entirely lost regarding Scorpius then he did at that particular moment.
Al glanced out at where the sun was setting quietly between the mountain faces; at the sparkling rays of water that reflected off into the distance, and, once again, became distinctly aware of how close Scorpius was to his body.
Their hands were almost touching. Al could see Scorpius's fingertips almost brushing his own and swore he could almost feel the heat eminating from the Malfoy.
"Albus?" Scorpius questioned. "You were saying something?" He spoke, turning to look at the dark haired boy. Scorpius's mouth was pulled into a half, almost hopeful smile, but he could see the nervousness behind Scorpius's lips- he always could. It was times like this that Albus didn't understand his best friend at all.
"Oh, yeah. I was just going to ask if you wanted to, ehm, take a dip?" Albus asked, gesturing with his head toward the calm waters a few paces from their feet. After a few moments of silence, Albus chastised himself. Stupid, stupid, I'm bloody stupid, he thought, forcing the start of a blush from his tanned cheeks.
A smile spread across Scorpius's face as he looked around, testing the temperature of the air. It was relatively warm.
"Sure, why not?" Scorpius replied, standing from his position and pulling off his sweater. Albus stood as well, unbuttoning his jumper quietly.
Albus surveyed Scorpius's lean body as he toed out off his shoes. Scorpius was dipping a foot into the water reluctantly. He whipped his head around sharply, his eyes wide.
"It's COLD Albus." The blonde said with an aghast frown. Albus rolled his eyes at the boy. Scorpius, now turned around and gazing into the depths of the Black Lake, was unprepared for Albus's ambush. The Potter rushed forward, pushing the unsuspecting Malfoy into the lake. Scorpius emitted a girlish shriek as he fell into the water, flailing his arms all the while.
Albus waited for the boy to surface gleefully. After the water had settled and the better portion of a minute had elapsed without Scorpius surfacing, Albus began to feel worry wiggling into his thoughts. All sorts of horrible possibilities rose to mind- Grindylows, Mermaids, a grumpy giant squid- he had to work to keep himself from panicking.
"Scorpius?" Albus called cautiously. He stepped towards the edge of the bank, calling the boy's name again. "Scorpius!" Al gripped the side of the bank with white knuckles and leaned out over the water, searching the murky depths for a flash of blonde hair.
Before he could understand what had occurred, a mass sprang from the water and two arms were around his neck, pulling him into the water head first. Albus shrieked, but the noise was swallowed by the lake.
Al fought against the body fiercely, kicking and pushing against it with the power of adrenaline. When he felt the slim torso and silky hair underneath his hands, Albus stopped fighting. He toed the grime at the bottom of the lake and found he could stand.
Albus stood bringing the mass, which he had correctly identified as Scorpius, with him. The water lapped lazily against his waist.
Scorpius was cackling merrily, wrapped around Albus. His legs were around Albus's hips loosely, his arms snaked around the Potter's neck.
"Not funny, Scor." Albus said, blushing and looking left. Scorpius smirked down from his slightly elevated position, clutching Al tightly.
"Serves you right." Scorpius chided, sticking his tongue out like a child. He smiled down at Al, and Albus found he couldn't help but smile back. A silence spread between the two and Scorpius's expression shifted, seeming to search for something on Albus's face. Albus hoped that he didn't spot the adoration barely masked there.
Apparently Scorpius found what he was looking for, because the next thing Al knew, Scorpius's lips were on his, and he wasn't complaining. The two teen's mouths moved frantically against each other, years of restrained feelings and repressed sexual tension flowing from them both in the course of a few moments.
Scorpius tasted exactly how Albus imagined. He couldn't describe the satisfaction that came with the ability to kiss his best mate like he'd literally dreamed of. Albus felt the water rushing between their bodies, and the feel of the muck between his toes, and the soft slosh of water hitting the bank a few feet away, but everything was dulled to the feel of Scorpius against him.
Nothing felt as good as Scorpius did, and Albus was beyond willing to take complete advantage of what he'd finally been granted.
James sat atop a cool stone bench. A breath-taking view of the Black Lake was disappearing with the sun, and with the final shreds of light the dusk took the image of two boys entwined beneath the water's darkened surface.
James clutched a wrinkled piece of paper between the fingers of his right hand. He glanced down at it, wrinkling his nose and shaking his auburn head minutely. He could barely make out a phrase describing Scorpius's hair that included the words "delicious" and "shag-worthy". James promptly drew his wand from his jean pocket muttered a disgusted Incindio at the paper, flicking his eyes down the hillside to where his brother and a Malfoy were snogging with more fervent then was socially acceptable. He turned, intent on reaching the Gryffindor tower before his brother stumbled up the hill toward the Slytherin common room to do unspeakable things, most likely with a raging libido and a blond Malfoy in tow.
Sometimes, what people needed was right in front of them, and all they needed was a nudge in the right direction.
That, James concluded, was what had forced him to quote Albus's pathetic excuse for poetry in the Great Hall.
And, of course, James loved his brother.
James felt this was reason enough.
A/N: I swear, I have a Fetish for the black lake or something. ;)
Horray! It's finally done! I'm looking for a beta. I've been super busy lately, and really haven't had much time to write THAT much, but I want the occasional little dibble dabble I DO post to be the best it possibly can be. Anyway, click that little review button down there. Please?
