fic: Marshmallows and Painters
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius
Rating: R
Spoilers: Nothing beyond their existence.
Word Count: About 1600
Summary:
Al wants to show Scorpius the joys of camping. Just a bit of fluff (and a tiny bit of smut) for the prompt "marshmallows" (thanks Tessa, hope this is ok).
Marshmallows and Painters
Scorpius wasn’t sure entirely sure how his present situation had come about. He knew where the idea had come from, of course, but having an idea was not the same as acting on it.
They had been lying on the couches in the common room discussing Professor Longbottom’s terrible new haircut earlier that day; he supposed that was the start of the chain. Professor Longbottom’s hair then turned into the renovations to Greenhouse 3, which were taking a strangely long time for something that really could have been done with a few flicks of a wand. This led to Al’s story of how one time his Dad had dragged them on a road trip, and the muggle hotel they ended up in right in the middle of nowhere had been half under construction. And finally, it came up. Camping.
Scorpius wished he had never asked why on earth anyone would recreationally camp. He knew the minute the words were out of his mouth that it was a mistake. That was the problem with hanging around Al Potter; Al never offered a simple explanation. No, his eyes had lit up and a grin had broken across his features, and Scorpius had barely had time to say “don’t even think about it” before Al was conjuring sleeping bags from thin air. From there, it was only a matter of minutes before Scorpius gave in.
Al was a force of nature, and there was no stopping him, or so Scorpius liked to tell himself. But deep down, Scor knew he just liked to see Al happy. Even if that meant spending the night in a rather uncivilized manner.
The invisibility cloak, hastily ‘borrowed’ from James had gotten them out, onto the grounds. Al had initially veered towards the Forbidden Forest, but this was one thing Scorpius would not budge on. So they set up a tent on the Eastern shore of the lake, beneath a copse of trees.
“Done,” Al muttered happily as he stood back from his creation. The bright blue tent was not a sturdy erection by any means. It slanted in all the wrong places, and the roof looked like a small pebble would make it fold in on itself. Scorpius was not quite so enamored.
“Are you sure that’s not going to fall in on us, suffocate us in the night?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Scor. A tent is not going to suffocate you.”
“Well, alright. I suppose there will be a fair amount of room inside anyway. I’ll check it out.” Scorpius pulled back the entrance flap, and stopped short.
“Al…where are all the rooms?” he asked quietly.
“No rooms. It’s a muggle tent. Exciting, see?” Al squeezed past the incredibly unimpressed blond boy and slid into the gloomy, saggy tent. “Dad always said this is real camping. You can fit two people in here, easy.”
“Easy? Al, I think my bed is bigger than this tent,” Scorpius responded, backing out. He grabbed the sleeping bags and threw them inside, drowning Al in a wave of bedding. “Now what?”
“Now we have a fire,” Al said as he wriggled out to join Scorpius. “And marshmallows.”
Scorpius shrugged as he got a fire going. “I have no idea what those are.”
Al positively beamed. “Your life is about to change. Trust me.” He produced a small bag of the pink fluffy candy and came to sit beside Scorpius.
“You can toast them. On sticks. See?” He speared a marshmallow and held it over the flames, then wiggled the end of the stick in Scorpius’ face. “Eat it.”
Scorpius put aside the slight twitch of annoyance he felt at having his food fed to him like a three year old, and instead plucked the marshmallow off with his teeth. “Gooey,” he said thoughtfully. “I like it.”
A look of triumph spread across Al’s face, but he didn’t gloat, just plucked out another marshmallow for himself.
Scorpius looked back at the sorry excuse for a tent they had brought; surely that was not the allure of a night spent outside. So instead he followed his train of logic to food, and held the bag of marshmallows up in the light of the fire to examine them. “Is this why people go camping, Al? To eat the marshmallows? Because it seems to me that that is something one can do perfectly well in a kitchen.”
Al smiled into the fire. “No, Scor. That’s not why people go camping. Well, not most people. Although, I don’t know a lot of people who would allow an open flame in their kitchen just for marshmallow toasting.”
Scorpius sighed, and stretched his arms out behind him to rest on his hands, and felt a twig digging into his thigh. He turned to look expectantly at Al. “Would you mind enlightening me then?”
Al made a tutting noise. “So impatient. But fine. Look,” he said, and moved over to sit properly beside Scorpius. “Nature,” he said, making a sweeping gesture.
“Where?” Scorpius muttered, and Al clapped him on the head.
“Don’t be a smart arse.”
“Sorry, sensei.” Scorpius felt Al lean against him a little bit, and his heart involuntarily sped up. He tried to ignore it, as he was so used to doing. “So, nature. At night. And I’m…appreciating it?”
Scorpius felt Al shake his head. “When I was 13,” Al murmured, “we went to Paris. To the Musee d’Orsay. Well, among others. I swear, Paris isn’t a city, it’s a collection of museums. Anyway. In the Musee d’Orsay, they have some of the works of this muggle painter called Van Gogh.”
“I know who he is, I think.”
“Yeah, a lot of people do. You see his paintings reproduced everywhere, on cards and on TV. And I never got why he was considered so special. I’d seen these reproductions over and over, didn’t think much of them. But that’s the thing. They look nothing like that in person. When you look at them for real, the colours are just…god, Scor, it’s wonderful. It’s like the whole world has been captured inside one bit of canvas.” Al sighed. “I think maybe being out in nature is like that. That’s all.”
There was a silence between them as Scorpius tried to see the world that way. He supposed the lake looked terribly pretty, glinting with the light of Hogwarts and the dimmer pinpricks of the stars. But he was also uncomfortably aware of the cold ground, and the pebble digging into his palm, and more than anything the sensations that coursed through him every time Al shifted against his skin.
“It’s also terribly romantic,” Al drawled suddenly, and Scorpius let out a nervous laugh.
“Oh Al! I’ll have you know, I’m not that kind of lady.”
They giggled into the darkness, sides pressed against each other, feeling the other vibrating with laughter. Scorpius thrilled at the warmth and closeness, felt a blush spread across his cheeks, and didn’t dare look up for fear of the firelight giving him away.
“I don’t think I’m really the camping sort,” Scorpius said quietly, running his finger over his shoe. “But it’s sweet that you can see the beauty in it, Al.”
“I’m just glad you’re here with me anyway, Scor,” Al murmured, and Scorpius thought there was something strange in his voice. He looked up, to find Al’s eyes burning into his with a look on intensity he had never seen directed at himself before.
“Al?” Before he could say anything else, Al had curled one hand around Scorpius’ neck and brought their lips together. Heat raced through Scorpius as he fell into it, his hands clutching at Al’s shirt as the kiss grew in force. He heard Al moan quietly against him; the sound sent shivers through his stomach. He felt Al’s hands move down his chest, over his stomach, coming to rest at his belt buckle.
And then Al drew back with a jerk, staring wide eyed at Scorpius. “God, Scor, I’m sorry if I…I can’t help it, I can’t hold it in any more. You make me feel dizzy when I’m with you and I just…” He stopped, panting for breath.
“The day we met,” Scorpius whispered, not making eye contact.
“What?”
“The day we met, Al. That’s when I fell for you.”
And then they were entangled once more, and Al managed to get Scor’s belt undone and open. His hands roamed over then under Scor’s pants, pulling them down, and Scorpius gasped against Al’s lips as Al took his cock in one hand and began to glide up and down it, gaining in speed.
Scorpius managed to get Al’s jeans unbuttoned with one hand before losing it, his mind going numb. His teeth pressed into Al’s shoulder as he shuddered to climax.
Al pressed his lips to Scor’s, but Scorpius drew away, pushing Al gently to the ground before moving down his body. Scorpius slowly took Al’s cock out, then grinning wickedly up at the black-haired boy he took it in his mouth, reveling in the way Al thrust towards him. His teeth grazed the shaft, and he felt Al jerk beneath him as if he'd been struck by lightning. It didn’t take long until Al came hard with a cry.
“Um,” Scorpius uttered as he collapsed beside Al, his breathing ragged and his eyelids suddenly heavy.
“Yeah,” Al agreed, shifting where he lay. “That was not what I had planned. Really.”
“I’m not complaining,” Scorpius said with a grin. “Hell, camping doesn’t seem so bad anymore. I would do it again.”
Scorpius felt Al laugh beside him. Their fingers intertwined upon the cold hard ground.
Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius
Rating: R
Spoilers: Nothing beyond their existence.
Word Count: About 1600
Summary:
Al wants to show Scorpius the joys of camping. Just a bit of fluff (and a tiny bit of smut) for the prompt "marshmallows" (thanks Tessa, hope this is ok).
Marshmallows and Painters
Scorpius wasn’t sure entirely sure how his present situation had come about. He knew where the idea had come from, of course, but having an idea was not the same as acting on it.
They had been lying on the couches in the common room discussing Professor Longbottom’s terrible new haircut earlier that day; he supposed that was the start of the chain. Professor Longbottom’s hair then turned into the renovations to Greenhouse 3, which were taking a strangely long time for something that really could have been done with a few flicks of a wand. This led to Al’s story of how one time his Dad had dragged them on a road trip, and the muggle hotel they ended up in right in the middle of nowhere had been half under construction. And finally, it came up. Camping.
Scorpius wished he had never asked why on earth anyone would recreationally camp. He knew the minute the words were out of his mouth that it was a mistake. That was the problem with hanging around Al Potter; Al never offered a simple explanation. No, his eyes had lit up and a grin had broken across his features, and Scorpius had barely had time to say “don’t even think about it” before Al was conjuring sleeping bags from thin air. From there, it was only a matter of minutes before Scorpius gave in.
Al was a force of nature, and there was no stopping him, or so Scorpius liked to tell himself. But deep down, Scor knew he just liked to see Al happy. Even if that meant spending the night in a rather uncivilized manner.
The invisibility cloak, hastily ‘borrowed’ from James had gotten them out, onto the grounds. Al had initially veered towards the Forbidden Forest, but this was one thing Scorpius would not budge on. So they set up a tent on the Eastern shore of the lake, beneath a copse of trees.
“Done,” Al muttered happily as he stood back from his creation. The bright blue tent was not a sturdy erection by any means. It slanted in all the wrong places, and the roof looked like a small pebble would make it fold in on itself. Scorpius was not quite so enamored.
“Are you sure that’s not going to fall in on us, suffocate us in the night?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Scor. A tent is not going to suffocate you.”
“Well, alright. I suppose there will be a fair amount of room inside anyway. I’ll check it out.” Scorpius pulled back the entrance flap, and stopped short.
“Al…where are all the rooms?” he asked quietly.
“No rooms. It’s a muggle tent. Exciting, see?” Al squeezed past the incredibly unimpressed blond boy and slid into the gloomy, saggy tent. “Dad always said this is real camping. You can fit two people in here, easy.”
“Easy? Al, I think my bed is bigger than this tent,” Scorpius responded, backing out. He grabbed the sleeping bags and threw them inside, drowning Al in a wave of bedding. “Now what?”
“Now we have a fire,” Al said as he wriggled out to join Scorpius. “And marshmallows.”
Scorpius shrugged as he got a fire going. “I have no idea what those are.”
Al positively beamed. “Your life is about to change. Trust me.” He produced a small bag of the pink fluffy candy and came to sit beside Scorpius.
“You can toast them. On sticks. See?” He speared a marshmallow and held it over the flames, then wiggled the end of the stick in Scorpius’ face. “Eat it.”
Scorpius put aside the slight twitch of annoyance he felt at having his food fed to him like a three year old, and instead plucked the marshmallow off with his teeth. “Gooey,” he said thoughtfully. “I like it.”
A look of triumph spread across Al’s face, but he didn’t gloat, just plucked out another marshmallow for himself.
Scorpius looked back at the sorry excuse for a tent they had brought; surely that was not the allure of a night spent outside. So instead he followed his train of logic to food, and held the bag of marshmallows up in the light of the fire to examine them. “Is this why people go camping, Al? To eat the marshmallows? Because it seems to me that that is something one can do perfectly well in a kitchen.”
Al smiled into the fire. “No, Scor. That’s not why people go camping. Well, not most people. Although, I don’t know a lot of people who would allow an open flame in their kitchen just for marshmallow toasting.”
Scorpius sighed, and stretched his arms out behind him to rest on his hands, and felt a twig digging into his thigh. He turned to look expectantly at Al. “Would you mind enlightening me then?”
Al made a tutting noise. “So impatient. But fine. Look,” he said, and moved over to sit properly beside Scorpius. “Nature,” he said, making a sweeping gesture.
“Where?” Scorpius muttered, and Al clapped him on the head.
“Don’t be a smart arse.”
“Sorry, sensei.” Scorpius felt Al lean against him a little bit, and his heart involuntarily sped up. He tried to ignore it, as he was so used to doing. “So, nature. At night. And I’m…appreciating it?”
Scorpius felt Al shake his head. “When I was 13,” Al murmured, “we went to Paris. To the Musee d’Orsay. Well, among others. I swear, Paris isn’t a city, it’s a collection of museums. Anyway. In the Musee d’Orsay, they have some of the works of this muggle painter called Van Gogh.”
“I know who he is, I think.”
“Yeah, a lot of people do. You see his paintings reproduced everywhere, on cards and on TV. And I never got why he was considered so special. I’d seen these reproductions over and over, didn’t think much of them. But that’s the thing. They look nothing like that in person. When you look at them for real, the colours are just…god, Scor, it’s wonderful. It’s like the whole world has been captured inside one bit of canvas.” Al sighed. “I think maybe being out in nature is like that. That’s all.”
There was a silence between them as Scorpius tried to see the world that way. He supposed the lake looked terribly pretty, glinting with the light of Hogwarts and the dimmer pinpricks of the stars. But he was also uncomfortably aware of the cold ground, and the pebble digging into his palm, and more than anything the sensations that coursed through him every time Al shifted against his skin.
“It’s also terribly romantic,” Al drawled suddenly, and Scorpius let out a nervous laugh.
“Oh Al! I’ll have you know, I’m not that kind of lady.”
They giggled into the darkness, sides pressed against each other, feeling the other vibrating with laughter. Scorpius thrilled at the warmth and closeness, felt a blush spread across his cheeks, and didn’t dare look up for fear of the firelight giving him away.
“I don’t think I’m really the camping sort,” Scorpius said quietly, running his finger over his shoe. “But it’s sweet that you can see the beauty in it, Al.”
“I’m just glad you’re here with me anyway, Scor,” Al murmured, and Scorpius thought there was something strange in his voice. He looked up, to find Al’s eyes burning into his with a look on intensity he had never seen directed at himself before.
“Al?” Before he could say anything else, Al had curled one hand around Scorpius’ neck and brought their lips together. Heat raced through Scorpius as he fell into it, his hands clutching at Al’s shirt as the kiss grew in force. He heard Al moan quietly against him; the sound sent shivers through his stomach. He felt Al’s hands move down his chest, over his stomach, coming to rest at his belt buckle.
And then Al drew back with a jerk, staring wide eyed at Scorpius. “God, Scor, I’m sorry if I…I can’t help it, I can’t hold it in any more. You make me feel dizzy when I’m with you and I just…” He stopped, panting for breath.
“The day we met,” Scorpius whispered, not making eye contact.
“What?”
“The day we met, Al. That’s when I fell for you.”
And then they were entangled once more, and Al managed to get Scor’s belt undone and open. His hands roamed over then under Scor’s pants, pulling them down, and Scorpius gasped against Al’s lips as Al took his cock in one hand and began to glide up and down it, gaining in speed.
Scorpius managed to get Al’s jeans unbuttoned with one hand before losing it, his mind going numb. His teeth pressed into Al’s shoulder as he shuddered to climax.
Al pressed his lips to Scor’s, but Scorpius drew away, pushing Al gently to the ground before moving down his body. Scorpius slowly took Al’s cock out, then grinning wickedly up at the black-haired boy he took it in his mouth, reveling in the way Al thrust towards him. His teeth grazed the shaft, and he felt Al jerk beneath him as if he'd been struck by lightning. It didn’t take long until Al came hard with a cry.
“Um,” Scorpius uttered as he collapsed beside Al, his breathing ragged and his eyelids suddenly heavy.
“Yeah,” Al agreed, shifting where he lay. “That was not what I had planned. Really.”
“I’m not complaining,” Scorpius said with a grin. “Hell, camping doesn’t seem so bad anymore. I would do it again.”
Scorpius felt Al laugh beside him. Their fingers intertwined upon the cold hard ground.