A/N: Hi everyone! So sorry for the delay in update. I've just been lost in writing this other story and time got away with me. I will not - I won't! - drop this story, however, certainly given that I've already finished the first draft, but I just felt I needed to confess my absence.

Just as a heads up, I also sort of sheepishly apologise for the first conversation of this chapter. It is very much a product of my fangirl rearing her head and demanding inclusion, so for that... sorry.

And also, WARNING: this chapter contains graphic descriptions of sexual situations. If you don't like it, please don't read it because you WON'T like it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 11: A New Kind Of Wonderful

~Scorpius~

"But the real question," Rhali said solemnly, her face intense above her clasped fingers, "is which is actually more evil: the Angels or the Demons."

"Demons," Ozzy replied instantly.

"Angels. Definitely," Al quickly followed, nearly overriding him.

Ozzy snorted, tossing a piece of popcorn across the little room in a feeble display of disgruntlement. It barely made it the short distance across the rug that spread across the greater part of the Niche's floor, soaring over Rhali's sprawled figure where she lay on her customary bed of the floor. "No way, the Demons are definitely more demonic. Pun unintended. Evil is a part of their character."

Al, stretched sideways along the couch beside me with his les dangling over the arm, picked up the popcorn from the front of his jumper and contemplated it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. I admired that he could manage as much with the Gum between his teeth yet refrain from swallowing the both of them. He turned his head from where it butted against my thigh to stare at Ozzy. "You're generalising because of preconceived conceptions. That Demons are, innately, evil, just because of what they are. And for the same reason, you're assuming that Angels are naturally good."

"I'm not assuming that," Ozzy counteracted. "I'm saying it because it's true. As a race, Angels are fighting against the invasion of Demons –"

"Who aren't actually doing anything wrong in the first place."

"What part of invasion don't you understand?!" Ozzy seemed unnecessarily frustrated by Al's reply. "They're invading Earth. And killing everyone. How is that not evil?"

Al gave an awkward little shrug into my thigh that wasn't quite visible. His response was evident anyway, however. "You're just speaking from the perspective that killing everyone is wrong."

"I'm disturbed by your viewpoint, Al," Rhali interjected, though she appeared more amused than uneasy. I could see where she was coming from; I was in a likeminded state, torn between mirth and disturbance at Al's blasé attitude towards the end of the human race. Even if the popular chronicles of The Dark Angel's Fury was a work of fiction, such an attitude was surely concerning.

"No, seriously," Al replied, pushing himself up onto his elbows to turn towards the room at large more easily. "The main problem you have with the Demons is that they're invading Earth, right? Invading it and basically forcing humans out of the way to make room for them."

"Right," said Ozzy and Rhali, speaking in tandem.

"Right. But the only reason they have to invade is because their own world is being gradually chipped away at by this 'side of light' as the Angels are attempting to eradicate the Demon World and in doing so basically committing genocide."

"Upon a race that shouldn't exist in the first place," Ozzy pointed out, picking distractedly through the half-empty bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"That's irrelevant, Ozzy. Just because they 'shouldn't exist in the first place' doesn't mean that they should continue their non-existence when they're actually existing."

"Demons are evil, Al. That's why they shouldn't exist."

"They're only evil because they're against humans and you're sympathetic towards humanity's plight."

"Can't argue with that logic, Ozzy," Rhali said, rolling onto her back and kicking one foot lazily into the air.

"No," Ozzy frowned, glancing up from his bowl. "I'm against them because they're wrong. They have no compassion for the welfare of an entire people and show no sympathy for their deaths."

"Hmm, I've got to say, relate though I can to the Demon's attitude towards people in general, I do have to agree with you on that one, Ozzy," Rhali muttered thoughtfully.

Al huffed, dropping his head back onto the couch and catching it on the edge of my lap instead. Neither of us made a move to shift from the situation. "You're overlooking the key fact that the Angels are bastards."

"How so?" Ozzy asked.

"Because they have absolutely no incentive to eradicate the Demons in the first place! The Demons aren't attacking or even threatening them and they're making it their personal vendetta to wipe them off the face of the earth!"

"There's a reason for that," Ozzy replied, raising his eyebrows towards Al pointedly.

"No, I have to agree with Al on this one," I spoke up for the first time in what must have been about five minutes. It was hard to get a word in when they were all arguing so passionately. "The Angels seem more hell bent on simply committing acts of violence and destruction in the name of preserving humanity than actually 'doing good'."

"Quiet, you," Ozzy frowned at me. "You have no place in this intricate discussion. You've only read two of the books and that was, what, six years ago?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, but Al's given me the run down."

"That doesn't count!"

"It does count," Al countered, diving in to my rescue. "I need someone on my side to combat you two's mutual stupidity."

Rhali and Ozzy spluttered in mock indignation and the topic of The Dark Angel's Fury fell into the past for a debate of Greater Import. I smiled at the exchange, simply comfortable in listening to their avid, good-natured arguing. True, I hadn't read more than the first two books in what had become one of the most popular horror series of our generation – and it really was quite gruesome, so of course my three friends loved it – but that hardly mattered when it came to having an opinion. Regardless of what Ozzy said.

It was the first night back from the Christmas Holidays and we were revelling in one another's company once more. Al told me it was their tradition of sorts to spend the first night back at school either bathing in Harproot or chewing Happy Gum. I don't know exactly why they felt the need for either the drugs or the meet; they'd seen each other every other day in the holidays, so it wasn't like there was all that much to tell.

Still, I appreciated the situation, whatever the reasoning behind its inception. I myself had not seen Rhali or Ozzy all holidays, and Al only twice; the second time was hardly more intimate than the first, when he'd actually come to visit Drisella with me. I'd figured she'd be the most forgiving with the intrusion of a stranger which, giving her credit where it was due, she was. It hadn't lasted long, however, and a request to meet for dinner with Drisella's father cut our catch up frustratingly short.

We'd all four met up on platform nine-and-three-quarters before boarding the train. It was by chance, really, that we'd even bumped into each other. Or perhaps coordinated chance, with several key players actively influencing the odds. Because though I'd spoken to Al on the phone just before leaving home, it was Ozzy that I ran into first.

It was an awkward confrontation. Very awkward. I wasn't one to reveal my discomfort in unnerving situations, but that meeting had tested my limits. We'd literally run into one another in the thick crowds choking up the platform and there was an extended and tense pause between us as we'd simply stared at one another. I knew about his secret, and he knew about my relationship with Al, and it made things very, very… awkward.

Ozzy was the one to shake himself from his silence first. "Scor. Sorry, I didn't see you there. How were your holidays?"

I met his dark gaze warily, feeling myself tense unnecessarily. What, did my body honestly think I was going to make a run for it? "Well enough. Informative. And yourself."

Nodding slowly, Ozzy's eyes darkened infinitesimally. "Yes. Informative would be a good way of putting it."

There was silence between us for a moment, and it would have been thoroughly unnerving had the buzz of the crowd around us not broken up the lull quite nicely. I was just contemplating what I could possibly say to ease the tension when Ozzy spoke up.

"I know. About… about you and Al."

"I know," I replied. "I know that you know."

Ozzy had nodded, pursing his lips and sucking a tooth. His eyes were still eerily dark, but he seemed more thoughtful now. I'd wondered for a moment if he'd simply leave it at that, leave the exchange hanging in the air like a bad, lingering smell but, thankfully, he didn't. "Just so you're aware, if you ever hurt him, ever so much as think of hurting him, I'll grind you into a pulp."

I'd blinked at Ozzy, surprised even though I shouldn't have been. "Really?"

My reply wasn't condescending. I was honestly curious; mostly that Ozzy would consider himself capable of 'grinding me to a pulp'. I'd never considered the amicable Gryffindor to be a bold or particularly aggressive person and, until that moment, hadn't thought him capable of such acts of violence. Except… yes, in that moment, tall and thin and gangly as he was – he was actually just a little taller than me, even if he did lack any particular breadth – there was something about the determination in Ozzy's gaze that assured me he was very much capable of making good his threat.

He'd folded his arms across his chest as his jaw tightened noticeably. "Yeah, really. I can accept that you two are together – really, I can. Honestly, I knew nothing was ever going to happen between me and Al – but if you even think about acting like an arse…"

He'd trailed off, and that had actually been more profound than any threat could have been. I'd found myself nodding slowly, respectfully. "And I wouldn't want it any other way. If I ever did hurt him, I'd gladly take anything you could dish out. Because I would surely deserve it."

Ozzy had stared at me intently for a moment longer. His eyes were hard and flat, calculating, and I'd felt like a convict before a judge, awaiting my sentence. For some reason it felt vitally important that I receive Ozzy's approval, and not only because it would be hard won. Ozzy was important to Al, and Al to me; of course I wanted to be on solid terms with his friends. With my friends, I reminded myself. Because they were that too.

After a moment, Ozzy had nodded slowly and I'd felt myself able to breathe comfortably once more. He'd given a small smile and abruptly the intimidation game he'd been playing ended and the old, familiarly placid Ozzy remained in its place. "Right. Great. That's all I wanted to hear."

I would have spoken further, except in that moment Al and Rhali had appeared. The pair of them didn't call out, didn't wave excitedly at the sight of Ozzy and myself, but their presence was noticeable nonetheless and effectively quelled any further discussion on the topic at hand. As a quartet we'd picked up our trunks and boarded the train.

To be honest, it was the best trip on the Express I'd ever had. Better even than those I'd shared with my elder friends before they'd left school and certainly better than the two I'd taken earlier that year. Al, Ozzy and Rhali were just… fun. They in no way tried to be, but managed it somehow anyway.

I wondered how I'd ever missed such enjoyable people in my own year. Regretted it too; how much had I truly missed out on?

Ozzy had been as friendly as always ever since. There were times, true, when he looked a little sad. I felt bad about that, really, I did. But to be honest, there's nothing I could, nor was willing, to do about it. I wasn't going to break up with Al over it, nor even allow myself to feel overly guilty over the idea that Ozzy was so obviously pining. Just as that reporter Picket had no say in our relationship, I didn't think Ozzy should either. Not really. And Rhali… well, Rhali didn't seem to care at all. I was sure she knew about us – and not only because Al had told me she knew – but she acted exactly the same as she always did.

So when Ozzy frowned at me and scolded me for my lack of investment in The Dark Angel's Fury, and when Rhali rolled her eyes as Al proceeded to stand up for my contribution and proclaim their stupidity, I didn't feel particularly perturbed. No more than I usually would have at having my opinion brushed off.

I tuned back into the conversation when I registered that it had very definitely moved on.

"But you don't know how to juggle! How would that even work?!"

Rhali and Al were clutching their bellies as they cackled with laughter, completely ignoring poor Ozzy's words and smiling indignation. I wasn't exactly sure of the segue onto circus acts, but filed the words away for later consideration: Al couldn't juggle. Noted.

Before Al and Rhali could really calm themselves, a ringing resounded throughout the room. All eyes turned towards the roof, pointlessly seeking the source of the Alarm Charm we'd set at the beginning of the night. My idea, that one. Apparently the thought had just never occurred to the rest of them in the past. It was probably why they were always caught out after curfew.

Me, being the prefect that I was, could hardly condone such behaviour. They were my friends, yes, but some things should not be shirked. And besides, ten o'clock was late enough to have spent in one another's company, wasn't it?

"What, ten already?" Rhali grumbled. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm still riding on my Happy; there'll be no sleeping for a couple hours at least."

Well. Apparently ten o'clock wasn't late enough.

Al, however, groaned and pushed himself up to sitting once more. "Come on, you. We've got a prefect in our ranks now. That means following the school rules every now and then."

"I'm fairly certain that taking drugs on school grounds is breaking at least a couple of those rules," I considered aloud. There was no real force to my accusation, though. How could there be, when I was a major participant in the act?

"Yeah, but you're doing it too," Rhali pointed out, voicing my thoughts. "So you can't get us in trouble for it or anything."

"Don't you think if I was going to dob you in I would have already done it by now?" I said with a sighed.

"You never know. It could be some elaborate conspiracy."

"Oh, and I'm sure dating Al was a part of that conspiracy," Ozzy contributed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I gave a small smile as I turned towards the door, leading the troupe behind me. That was one thing that I truly admired about Ozzy; he accepted the situation and didn't attempt to shunt it to the shadows because it didn't agree with him. He accepted it, and lived it. No avoidance involved.

We stepped out into the corridor, each of us lighting our wands with yellow-white Lumos, and I felt myself smirking at the immediate wariness the rest of them. It was a conditioned response, I knew; I'd noticed them doing as much before, as though they were keeping an eye out for anyone who could spring them in the act. Even with me at their side they still acted like there were a pair of eyes constantly affixed to each of them with scolding accusation.

At the T in the end of the hallway, we paused and turned towards one another. Rhali gave me – very distinctly me – an long, unreadable stare, quirked her lips and shrugged in a motion of decisiveness. "Alright. I'm off then."

"What, no demands for an escort tonight?" Ozzy teased. He received a whack on the shoulder for voicing his thoughts.

"Actually, I just assumed that we'd all consider it the duty of the chivalrous to walk the lady back to her common room."

"Such might be the case if we actually had a lady amongst us," Ozzy pointed out, running his eyes up and down Rhali speculatively.

"Oh, but we do," Rhali replied, slipping her arm through Ozzy's. "And that is why chivalrous me is going to be the one walking you back to your common room." And she spun them in a rather graceful turn and tugged Ozzy along one arm of the corridor.

It took a few moments for Ozzy to steady himself enough to actually reply. "Are you calling me a helpless damsel in distress?"

"If anyone would be out of the four of us it would be you."

"I disagree! It's obviously Scor."

The echoes of their banter rebounded down the hallway, the reflexive wariness that had arisen upon stepping from the Niche fading from their retreating figures. Neither even bothered to glance behind them to discern whether Al and I were following or leaving ourselves, nor even to say goodnight.

"That… was weird."

Al glanced towards me at my words. "Not really. It's just their way of giving us some privacy." He gave a fond smile. "They're not the best with subtlety, but the attempt is appreciated nonetheless."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise as I glanced towards him. "That was planned?"

Al shrugged. "Maybe not planned, but we've known each other long enough to pick up on cues like that. Ozzy caught on straight away. It's why he didn't make a fuss."

Turning back towards the now empty corridor down which our friends had departed, I shook my head slowly. Well, I'll be. I hadn't seen that coming. Not from Ozzy, given I'd assumed he'd likely do his utmost to avoid promoting our relationship, and certainly not Rhali who, though she'd accepted me as her friend, still seemed to find it a personal triumph whenever she waylaid me in any matter. It was unexpectedly considerate of them and… I was oddly touched.

"Come on, then," Al broke into my thoughts, nudging my side with an elbow.

I turned my attention back towards him. "What? Where? Our common rooms are in opposite directions."

Sighing in amused exasperation, Al tilted his head up at me with a crooked smile upon his face. "Look, Scor. I've got this prefect with me who will basically enable me to wander through the halls outside curfew and I'm finding that I'd actually quite like to spend some more time with him. If that's okay with you, of course?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you asking me to deliberately break curfew with you?"

"Well, we haven't really actually been alone since we got together. I thought you'd appreciate the opportunity as much as I would. But if you'd rather not…" Al trailed off, turned his eyes to the side and pursed his lips. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face as he shrugged one shoulder.

"I could think of nothing I'd rather more," I replied before I even knew what I was saying. And it was certainly what I should have been saying, because nothing that brought such a smile to Al's face could be anything but entirely appropriate. I was finding that, when it came to Al, I was increasingly able to push quite a lot to the side as a secondary priority. Studies were important, yes, and networking for my future just as much, but… not right now. So I eagerly followed Al as he gestured down the opposite hallway with a tilt of his head, leading me to an unknown destination.

I found that, for the first time in a long time, I had absolutely no inclination to arrange my every act to assist the progression towards my future career. And that… that was a big thing for me. I'd always been focused upon my looking far forwards, to the point where my initial understanding that I didn't even particularly like the direction I felt obligated to follow faded into obscurity. Now, it was simply something I did.

But I'd spent the entire holidays working, boring and seemingly redundant as that work might be at times. An entire holiday that I could have better spent with people – or, more specifically, one person – that I truly desired to be with. It was a bit of a shock, as though being doused in cold water. An awakening; because I knew that I would follow my father into LeFay, but at the same time… no, I didn't want to be consumed by that role. Consumed as I'd considered I had to be, as many of my old friends were being.

And following Al, completely disregarding the fact that classes begun the next day, was a massive step out of my comfort zone that felt entirely exhilarating. I wasn't not sure it was only because I was spending that time with Al, though I was certain that his presence was an exceptionally big part of it. I wondered if that disregard had anything to do with the effects of the Happy Gum I'd been revelling in for the past three hours.

We wandered in relative silence throughout the dark corridors of the sleeping castle, myself directionless but Al moving with distinct purpose. I registered that we were on the seventh floor when he eventually slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, glancing around me at the unremarkable corridor. It was empty of doors and even wall hangings except for what I could make out in the gloom as a tapestry of some wizard sitting amongst a ring of weary trolls wearing tutu's.

Al turned towards me from the blank wall opposite the tapestry. "I'm about to reveal to you one of the absolute best secrets of Hogwarts. Are you ready?"

I raised my eyebrows, half in surprise and half in amusement. "You've got a secret about the school that I don't know about?" That was saying something. As a prefect, it was my duty to know as much of the school as I could, including any hidden corridors and rooms that might harbour students skipping classes. A map was issued to each prefect at the initiation of their duties, one we were told to familiarise ourselves with before it was returned to our head teacher a week later. For privacy reasons, of course. We couldn't have every student knowing every secret of the school. Apparently it was a tradition that had been added to the duties of prefects about twenty years ago.

"You're going to show me a secret?" I smiled, pushing forth the condescension that I felt at the suggestion. "I think there's little that could impress me, actually. I'm quite familiar with the ins and outs of the school. It's sort of my thing."

Al returned my stare with equal levels of condescension. "Well, then prepare to be surprised."

"How can one prepare to be surprised?" I asked rhetorically. Al ignored me. He'd turned from me once more and, in the most random display I'd witnessed in some time, closed his eyes, furrowed his brow and walked resolutely down the corridor. I watched him in bemusement as he drew away and was just taking a step to follow him when he turned and walked back the other way, eyes still closed and face fixed in concentration.

"What…?" I began, but Al waved his the hand free of his wand at me for silence and continued his pacing. I watched him in mounting confusion until, after the third trip, he stopped in front of me. "What was that all about?"

By way of explanation, Al gestured towards the blank wall beside us. Or the wall that had been blank. Because it wasn't anymore, but instead boasted a dark, modest oaken door with a golden doorknob. I blinked at it in surprise before shifting my glance towards Al. He appeared, quite rightly, a little smug.

"What is that?"

"It's a secret room."

"Yes, I'd gathered as much. But what is it?" Surely I'd know of a concealed room in the seventh floor corridor and yet no memory of one was presenting itself. It was actually quite infuriating.

"It's called the Come and Go Room by the house elves because that's what it does: it only appears when you need it – or ask for it – and supplies you with what it is you want. It's also sometimes called the Room of Requirement."

The name triggered a memory and I let out a hum of understanding. Yes, the Room of Requirement. I had heard of that, although not because I was a prefect. Father had mentioned it on one occasion, stating that he'd used it numerous times during his schooling years and that by and large it flew under the radar with the teacher's floor plan. Likely because it was not always present, if what Al had said had any valid basis.

"You've heard of it?"

I nodded. "Yes, Father mentioned it several times."

"I'll bet he did," Al murmured with a nod. I frowned at him questioningly, but he only waved a hand at me, disregarding my curiosity. "Come on. Want to have a look?"

Of course I did. Al didn't even need to ask. It could have been a broom closet and I likely would have followed Al inside. Actually, dusty as a broom closet was, the thought had an appeal of its own. Al didn't wait for a reply and, stepping up to the door, jiggled the handle for a moment before stepping through the opening door. I followed right on his heels.

The interior of the Room of Requirement was… gorgeous, in a word. I liked to think I had a taste for fine home furnishings, and this one ticked all of the boxes. To my particular preferences too. All dark and light, contrasting colours, rich carpet, a wide fireplace at one end that actually had a fire crackling away on the hearth and comfortable-looking sofas that somehow still managed to appear refined despite their obvious softness. The room was illuminated by both the fire and a ring of elaborate wall candles, each beaming their soft light throughout the room. From what I could see, apart from the couches it was fairly bare, except that across the other side of the room –

Al gave a groan at my side, and glancing towards him I saw he'd dropped his head into one hand and appeared to be attempting to bury his face from view. What little I could make out of his expression through his fingers was flushed red. "I did not ask for that."

"What?"

"That." Al lifted his head as he gestured towards the thick mattress and pristine lines of the duvet tucking each corner of the double bed across the room. It was piled high with cream pillows atop a matching quilt and looked nothing is not tempting. "I specified somewhere that we could be alone together, somewhere that you'd feel comfortable in, and in no way, insinuated anything untoward."

I felt a grin threatening to spread across my face and had to bite it back because it would most likely send Al into burying his face in his hands again. He could get strangely embarrassed and withdrawn over some things, regardless that he was, in general, quite forward in an exclusive context. "I don't really see anything wrong with it."

Al heaved a frustrated sigh. "I didn't mean to suggest anything, Scor. Honestly."

"Oh, I believe you."

"It just sort of happened."

"And I am in no way complaining."

Finally catching onto what I was suggesting, Al quirked an eyebrow at me. "You're not weirded out?"

I folded my arms across my chest as I wandered across the room. With deliberate casualness, I tested the thickness of the bed's mattress before lowering myself onto it. I kicked my feet out before me and regarded Al from where he stood by the door. "Why on earth would I be 'weirded out'?"

Shaking his head, Al took a handful of hesitant steps after me. "I just thought that you might think I was being a bit too forward."

I let my smile spread this time. "Really, Al? I am most welcome to any kind of forwardness you could offer. And," I made a show of glancing around me, considering the room. I'd have to keep this Room of Requirement in mind for future reference; it really was quite nice. "I could hardly think of a better place to act as such."

Continuing in his steps, Al slowed to a stop before me. "You honestly don't mind?"

"I'd say I'm far from minding."

"Good," Al nodded curtly. The last of his embarrassment fell away, replaced by small smile and a light in his eyes that was ever so slightly intoxicating in its simple presence. "Then you won't mind if I take advantage of the privacy we've been so graciously afforded."

And with that Al was crawling into my lap. In a display of the forwardness he'd been apologising for seconds before, he straddled my thighs, cupped my head in his hands and brought our lips together. It was a deep, soft kiss, as though we were sinking into each other, and I found my arms rising to wrap around him and draw down into me. Anything to reduce the distance between us and just let me feel him.

Because God did I want to. Even in such a short time, I'd never been so quickly turned on in my life. Yes, I hadn't known if I was actually gay or just curious, or if it was simply Al himself that seemed attractive to me, but whichever explanation was the truth didn't deny the fact that it was incredibly hot. Pressing against one another, turning our heads to deepen the kiss further, wrapping tongues in a breathy dance as our hands sought to run over one another. I couldn't get enough of it, of simply touching Al, running my hands over his back, along his thighs, creeping up his shirt. For his part, Al forsook his cradling of my head in short order, seemingly just as eager to explore me with his own hands as I was him.

There was something exceptionally frustrating about the presence of clothing. Something that no amount of pressure, of pressing against one another or rubbing for friction, could alleviate. I wasn't usually such a forward person myself when it came to physical relationships. At least, I hadn't been with Winona. Maybe it was because I'd never felt entirely comfortable with her. But with Al? It was completely different. I couldn't get enough, couldn't feel enough, and though there was an incredibly annoying part of me cautioning in the back of my mind that things were escalating exceptionally fast, the greater part was revelling in the moment.

Apparently Al was of a similar mindset, for with what appeared to be a very real struggle he drew himself away from me. Though his hands still held me, one tangled at the hem of my shirt and another clasped around the back of my neck, he very deliberately resisted the kiss I sought to chase him with.

With hooded eyes half hidden behind his fringe and gasping voice he spoke. "Um… maybe we should…"

"Please don't," I replied, just as breathlessly.

"Scor, please don't have to feel like you have to."

"Have to?" My mind was sluggish and heavy, thickly swaddled in the scent, the sight, the feel of Al. Nothing else could possibly be more important in that moment, not even words.

"I mean, it's really… it's really alright if you'd rather take it slow."

Those words drew me up short for a moment. I blinked the confusion from my foggy mind, peering up to Al's heavy, intent gaze. It didn't help that I was distracted along the way by his lips, their curving cupid's bow flushed red and intensely attractive in that moment. "Do you want to take it slower?"

With a scoff, Al rolled his eyes. "Do I really look like I want to?"

I felt a smile tug at my lips. "Do I?"

A slow, mirroring smile spread across Al's face in return. It caught, however, and his became thoughtful. Almost wary. "You've never been with a bloke before, right?"

I pursed my lips, shifting slightly beneath Al's weight. My arousal, warm and uncomfortable beneath the pressure he afforded in my lap, was intensely distracting. "Is that a problem?"

"Well, there's actually a bit that's quite different between girls and guys."

"I know that." Oh Merlin how I knew that. I very much knew that, and I was revelling in every instant of heightened understanding of such knowledge. "I read about it."

Al snorted, the sound oddly erotic given our positioning and his rumpled appearance. My hands tightened unconsciously where they locked around his waist. "Of course. Trust you to do your homework."

"Naturally."

"When did you even get the time for that?"

"Don't ask irrelevant questions. I made the time." A sleepless night or two over the holidays, because really, after reading some of that which was writ across the internet – and more, watching it – made sleep next to impossible. If anything could encourage my belief in my diverted sexuality it was the surplus of Muggle websites on the subject. And the pictures. So, so many pictures.

"And you really think you're okay with it?" Al's expression was dubious, his tone faintly disbelieving.

"With what?"

"With… with…" Al struggled for a moment, fingers rising from my neck to wave redundantly in the air. "With all of it. I mean, I'm not saying we have to go the whole way tonight or anything –"

"You're not?" I wasn't going to pretend that the thought didn't disappoint me. Yes, we were moving fast, but dammit, it still felt too slow!

Al raised an eyebrow at me. "Do you want to?"

"You have no idea."

The smile in reply denied my words. "Oh, I think I might."

"Then… if you want to…?"

Al dropped a kiss onto my lips, soft and chaste at first but quickly becoming impassioned as I leant into it, deepening our contact. When we broke away, I couldn't keep the faint moan from escaping my lips. Al's puffs of breath against my skin were like caresses as he spoke. "I really, really want to."

I drew in for another quick kiss. "Then please… let me…" And I paused, caught on a thought. "Wait, how did you want to do it?"

Al cocked his head questioningly. His eyes were trained on my own lips, however, and the soft movements of his hands as they stroked along my back suggested his thoughts were definitely elsewhere. "I thought you said you knew how."

"I mean which… way. What would you prefer? I mean," I struggled to get the words out. I knew exactly what I should be saying, but actually referring to something as blatant as positioning aloud for the first time was unreasonably embarrassing. "Do you usually…?"

Al's expression was far too innocent, and I knew even before he spoke that he knew exactly of what I was referring to. "Are we a little bashful, Scor?"

"Oh, do shut up."

"Tut, tut, I'm merely confirming." He dropped a peck on my cheek that went a long way in mollifying my disgruntled pride. "You mean do I prefer to top or bottom?" At my nod, Al leant back slightly in my lap. Which was both not okay because it meant he drew away from me and very, very appreciated because the pressure on the tightness in my trousers was just… slightly… "I'm good for either, really, though I do tend to bottom more often than not."

"Why is that?" I asked, digging my fingers into the tops of Al's jeans to provide some grounding to my distracted thoughts.

Al shrugged. It was almost annoying how, despite the flush to his cheeks and the fiddling of his fingers, he appeared entirely comfortable in staving off any continuation of passionate touches. "Because I want to. And because Ozzy usually preferred to top, and he wasn't really all that keen on using Maghdarg's Brew – which is fair enough because it does take some getting used to – so –"

"Maghdarg's Brew?" The mention of Ozzy drew a grumble of possessiveness from me that caused me to unconsciously tighten my hold around Al's waist. Al didn't even seem to notice that he'd said anything that could be construed as triggering – and maybe he honestly didn't think of it that way; both he and Ozzy had been remarkably okay with everything since our initial and unintentionally climatic announcement – but I couldn't quite help myself from tugging Al slightly more firmly onto my lap. If that was even possible which, really, it wasn't.

Al gave me a crooked smile. "Have you been doing most of your homework on Muggle websites, by any chance?"

"Of course," I sighed, exasperated. "Have you any idea how much more content is available to Muggles than solely to wizards?"

"Actually, I do," Al replied. "And I'm not judging or anything. Only that Muggle's don't really have an equivalent, so it would make sense. And it is sort of a lifesaver when it comes to sex between blokes."

"What does it do?" I asked, very pointedly drawing myself away from fixating upon the very mention of sex.

"Basically reduces the need for extensive preparation on whoever's bottoming," Al informed me with an almost lecturing tone. I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on just that little bit more. "It forms a link between arousal and muscle relaxation and… maybe that's a discussion for another time. Might sort of kill the mood a little."

It didn't. It really didn't. I doubted there was anything that could possibly kill the mood at that moment. Even casual conversation hadn't served to ease my arousal one bit. "That sounds awfully convenient."

"Yeah, kind of is," Al grinned, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"And you… you've…?"

"Yeah," Al supplied for my complete lack of eloquence. "It only needs taking once a month, so I'm all good to go."

Good to go… "Then, if you're alright with it?"

"Trust me, Scor," Al admonished. "If I wasn't you would certainly know about it." And to demonstrate just how alright with it he was, Al pressed himself back up against me, cupped my head in his hands once more, and drew our lips together. I fell prey to the sensations letting my body simply respond; I didn't seem to have enough hands to grasp everything I wanted to touch.

I personally would have settled for just charming the clothes off Al's back. Disintegrating them, if I must. Anything to get closer to him, to feel more of that smooth, warm skin that shivered slightly beneath my fingertips. The act of removing clothes – I was so glad we'd had a chance to change from our uniforms before meeting up that night because I was certain that buttons would have popped flying otherwise – happened remarkably quickly but also far too arduously. Each moment that we broke away from joined lips was a regret, however necessary it was to tug jumpers and shirts over our heads. Each shift in our seats was a trial but required to kick off shoes and dislodge.

But it was definitely worth it.

Al's warmth as he sat atop me was almost burning with the absence of layers of clothing. I felt myself nearly gasp at each movement, each slither of skin across skin, each puff of breath upon my cheek as Al planted sucking kisses upon my jaw, my neck, just beneath my ear. And most intensely, the heat pooling between my legs, rushing to my groin, was definitely not abated by the weight of Al in my lap. My arousal was aching yet tender, already straining with the desire for release. It would have been embarrassing except that Al's own arousal was pressing against my stomach, hard and throbbing. I would never have thought it would be such a turn on, to see another bloke in such a state, but Merlin…

With my head buried in Al's shoulder, my hips straining to buck beneath him, anything to achieve some sort of relief from the increasing, throbbing ache, it took me a moment to realise Al had spoken.

It was a struggle to pull my lips from the soft skin of his shoulder. "W… what?"

Al, his head turned towards me, met my gaze. I was captivated for a moment; the flush of his cheeks, the wetness of his lips, the lust-blown darkness of his eyes was absolutely intoxicating. He seemed just as distracted by staring at me but shook his head a moment later and repeated himself. "I… I mean, you definitely had the protection charms put on in fifth year, right? And… and you don't happen to have any lube or anything, do you?"

I froze, numbed for a second. Did I…? "God dammit, no. I don't. I mean I did, but I haven't." I stumbled through my reply, cursing. Of all the bloody practicalities…

Al, however, was shaking his head again distractedly. "'S okay. I didn't think you would. It would be kind of weird if you did, actually, you know, seeing as you didn't even know I was kind of thinking about this all night." He laughed in more of a gasp than actual laughter. "No drama, so long as we're all 'playing it safe' and everything. And for… I… I know a spell and all, it's just that the actual stuff it sometimes better."

Before I could ask what that meant – I couldn't say I was an expert on products tailored for sexual purposes – Al had clambered off my lap and fell onto his knees on the floor beside his trousers. I couldn't help the groan that slipped through my lips at his abrupt absence, tossing my head backwards in frustration; the easing of pressure was not appreciated in the slightest and only made the ache in my groin strain for release all the more. I grabbed myself, squeezing tightly, struggling to hold fast against the urge to jerk off to a quick rush of pleasure.

Al had fumbled for his wand, extricated it from his pocket and cast an inaudible charm that pooled a thick, translucent liquid into his palm. He discarded the wand a moment later, dropping it onto the pile of clothes on the floor, and immediately stepped back before me, slipping astride me with knees either side of my legs with such practical determination that it was all I could do not to fall backwards beneath him. My arm trembled as it held me up in a sitting position and I watched him with hungry, desperate eyes. With a nudge of his hand, Al urged me to release the tight hold I had upon myself and, with a delicate efficiency that made me groan, wrapped his slickened hand around my length.

I gasped. It was absolutely too good. The only thing I could possibly liken the feel of Al's fingers to was his mouth and… and I shouldn't think about that because I did not want it end it so soon. "Al –"

"Hold on a moment," Al whispered hoarsely, and an instant later those fingers of God unwrapped from my shaft. I moaned at their loss, dragging my heavy eyes down towards Al once more. He was reaching behind him, shifting and… I wasn't sure, could hardly make out through the heat blurring my eyes. My attempts to discern what he was doing were foiled a moment later, however, when, adjusting himself on his knees, Al raised himself onto his knees, edged forwards and positioning himself with a hand upon me once more, slowly lowered himself down.

And that… that feeling was indescribable. Incomparable. It was completely different to being with a girl, a different feeling entirely. And there was absolutely nothing I could think of to complain about that fact. My whole being centred around the point of our connection, that ball of tightness and pleasure that throbbed around my length. Every other concern in the world faded to insignificance.

I moved without direct intention. Half curled beneath the weight of Al on top of me, my hands rose and grasped his thighs, holding him firmly and drawing him further onto me as he sunk to his own weight. My hips writhed and rocked awkwardly, thrusting of their own accord in an attempt to drive deeper, further into him. And with each thrust Al released a gasp that went straight to my arousal, only spurring it on further.

He was more slender than a girl, slim in an entirely different way. His thighs were a different shape and his hips were narrower. His chest was flat and smooth, and where his hands rested, stroking in a raking caress up my own chest to fasten onto my shoulders, his fingers were longer, hands larger. As we rocked in jarring synchrony, gasping in mutual breaths of arousal with my eyes fastened upon him, I knew I'd never seen anything more absolutely gorgeous in my life.

I knew I wouldn't last long. I could barely hold onto myself as it was. With each upwards thrust, Al rolled his hips downwards to meet me, pressing me as deeply into him as possible. The slide of skin on skin, the clenching of muscle, was nearly unbearable. It didn't take long for me to throw restraint to the wind and fall to thrusting and bucking in earnest, chasing that mounting pleasure like a starving man would a loaf of bread. My groans filled the air, intertwining with Al's in a moaning melody. Though my eyes clenched shut of their own accord I could still see the motions of his hips, the clench of the muscles visible in his thighs, the flush of his cheeks as his face leant towards my own bare inches away.

All of a sudden, Al gave a hoarse cry and I felt warm wetness spill across my stomach. At the same time the pressure around my length intensified breathtakingly and in a shout of my own I found myself coming, thick and fast and hard. It was the headiest feeling of pleasure, sending sparks dancing across the inside of my closed eyelids. My body moved of its own accord, bucking in haphazard thrusts to ride out the waves of sensation. It was all I could do to grasp onto Al rather than fall backwards onto the bed.

When it finally eased enough for me to breath, to open my eyes without fear of them popping from my head, I peered up at Al, into his face a bare handbreadth from my own. He was panting, his chest rising and falling heavily, one hand lifted to push sweat-sprinkled bangs from his face. If I hadn't just had the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life, the image of his slumping figure in my lap, his arms draped around loosely over my shoulders, would have definitely sent me to the edge.

Drawing my hands from his thighs up his spine, I wrapped my own arms around him in a tight embrace. It was awkward, given our positions, given the persisting point of our connection that I desperately wished to maintain. But Al folded against me easily enough, pants dying as he wrapped his own arms back around me. I rested my head against the side of his as I felt him shift, fidgeting slightly and unbending his legs to curl them around my back.

"Good?"

Gasping a short laugh, I dropped my mouth down to his shoulder and kissed the damp skin in a smattering of pressed lips. "Do you even have to ask?"

Al laughed in reply, which was an experience of sensations in itself. "Couldn't help myself."

Drawing away from my kissing, I shifted so that I could meet Al's eyes. He looked dreamy, tired and altogether not entirely awake anymore. I couldn't blame him; I wasn't feeling much more with it myself. "You never have to ask. But really. Good?" I snorted, shaking my head. "That's the understatement of the year."

A slow, dopey smile spread across Al's face and he dropped his forehead onto my shoulder. "Aw, and us not even out of January yet. I'm flattered."

I could have said something sarcastic or witty to that. I didn't. Because I really didn't feel the need to. Because it was perfectly comfortable and perfectly acceptable to simply sit in the cradle of Al's arms and legs and bathe in the blessed afterglow like two love-struck teenagers.

Which, I liked to think, we sort of were.

In love… Merlin, I had surely begun to fall.