"Why won't you look me in the eye?" Scorpius asks. His voice is smaller than Albus has ever heard it, and it's almost lost in the roaring winds that gust around the Astronomy Tower. He looks up quickly, before looking down again, a red flush in his cheeks that has nothing to do with the biting cold.

"I do look you in the eye," he mutters. Scorpius doesn't hear him, so he has to repeat it, louder this time.

"No you don't. You don't even look at me, sometimes. You stare over my shoulder. You have ever since you… since you… walked in."

And that was the crux of the matter, Albus thinks. Because Scorpius is right; no matter how much Albus lies and pretends everything's fine, he can't look at his best friend properly.

"I thought you were okay with me," Scorpius says after a while. "With me, you know…."

He doesn't have to say with what.

"Merlin, Scorpius, is that what you think?" Albus asks. "I swear to you, I am fine with it. Even if I don't like Daniel, I'm okay with you liking boys and stuff. It's just… I wasn't prepared to see that."

That is a half-truth. Being prepared isn't the problem; the problem is that Albus hadn't been prepared to like it. He'd thought that, when he'd taken an instant dislike to Scorpius' boyfriend, Daniel, it had been because the boy had some faults, such as talking a little too much and being generally annoying in inexplicable ways. He had never considered the idea that he might be jealous.

Then, last week, he'd accidentally walked in on Scorpius and Daniel having sex. And he didn't just walk in on them partially naked, or even fully naked. They were full on fucking.

It had aroused Albus more than he'd thought possible.

And now, every time he looks at Scorpius, he has to wonder if he isn't as gay as his best friend. Every time he speaks to him, he faces the possibility that he has a huge crush on the blond. Every time he gazes into those stormy grey eyes, he wishes it had been him with Scorpius' cock up his arse rather than up Daniels.

It would make any friendship a little strained.

Scorpius doesn't look appeased by this explanation. "Honestly," Albus assures him. "It would be the same if I caught you with a girl. It's just… awkward."

Which isn't totally a lie, but he's painfully aware it isn't the full truth either.

"Well you'd better hurry up and get over it then," Scorpius tells him, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Albus doesn't blame him. "I feel like we're not really friends anymore." Then his voice turns small again and he adds quietly, "I miss you."

Albus' heart leaps and he has to fight to to supress it. He manages to pass it off as a shiver – after all, the air out above the castle is more than a little chilly. "I'm sorry," he replies. 'I miss you, too,' is the unspoken words that hang between them.

Suddenly, he wonders madly whether he should tell Scorpius. It would be such a relief to get it off his chest and – he quells a leap of excitement in his stomach – Scorpius might possibly return his feelings. But then Scorpius says, "Shit, your lips are turning blue. We should head back inside…," and the moment is lost.

Another time, Albus thinks, as Scorpius pulls him to his feet.

Sometime in an extremely distant future.