A/N: This is for the Romantic Drabble Challenge, over at HPFC.
Pairing: AlbusScorpius
Tidy Time
Albus stumbled into the Great Hall, dragging his overly-large feet against the stone floor as, with a loud humph, he sat down beside Scorpius.
Scorpius glanced at him, both bemused and wary, and continued to eat his toast. Grumpily, Albus grabbed and apple, biting into it with the aggression and vigour that usually accompanied early mornings such as these. Seven times – he'd hit his snooze button seven times before he'd managed to drag himself out of bed. It wasn't exactly his fault though – whatever Scorpius had been doing to him the night before had left him exhausted to say the least. Albus yawned, and Scorpius could barely stifle a giggle.
"Late night?" the blond asked, his innocent tone clashing harshly with the delighted smirk playing around his lips.
Albus glared, trying to kick Scorpius under the table, and failing completely. Scorpius grabbed onto Al's leg, squeezing his thigh slightly as Al tried to stamp on his best friend's toes.
"Best night's sleep of my life, actually," Albus retorted, grabbing a buttered piece of toast from Scorpius' plate, "Nothing really interesting happened, so you know, I had time to relax." Albus sent a stretched, sarcastic smile to Malfoy as he bit, pointedly, into his toast. If he hadn't have known Scorpius as well as he did, he would've said he was pouting.
"Really," Scorpius said, as his grip on Albus' leg became almost painful, "Because to be honest, Albus, it doesn't exactly look like it."
Albus looked his dishevelled, crumpled and now crumb-laden appearance up and down – he'd seen worse days, that was for sure, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well," said Scorpius, sceptical eyes glowering at his appearance, "Have you even looked at yourself in the mirror this morning?"
"Do I look like a person who had time to look in the mirror this morning?" Albus snapped, "And anyway, there's nothing wrong with me. I look like my ruggedly handsome self."
"That," said Scorpius, "Is debatable. However, your shirt is buttoned up wrong, you've got yesterday's dinner spilt down the front of your robes, there's sleep in your eyes, and not that I mind, but your flies are down."
Albus buried his tired head in his hands, hiding his blushing cheeks as Scorpius' hand slipped under the table, discreetly pulling up his zipper, "I'm a mess, aren't I."
"Yes," Scorpius reassured him, as he began to correctly fasten the buttons of Al's shirt, "But it's okay – at least I'm here to clean you up."
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