AS/S Through the Ages: Too Much Fighting on the Dance Floor, NC-17
Names: Jezzifishie and Ashesto
Title: Too Much Fighting on the Dance Floor
Time/Setting: London, 1980s
Word Count: 3.231
Betas: whydoesitcry
Rating: NC-17 (I think?)
Media (only for art): Music, CD covers
Summary: Al sees Scorp Malfoy dancing. What on earth is going on?
Author's/Artist's Notes: Songs by Si and the Snakes!
Art:
Download the Soundtrack: Waiting For The Damned/Soundtrack To My Heart, lyrics to both songs, cover art for both songs
Too Much Fighting On The Dance Floor
Songs used--
Ghost Town - The Specials
Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - The Eurythmics
Scorpius Malfoy is the last person Albus had ever expected to see at the club.
He even thinks he'd been mistaken at first; a man with white blond hair does not, necessarily, make a Malfoy. But then the man turns around, moving to the beat of the music, and well. For all the makeup and delicately-mussed hair, there is no mistaking those pointy features.
Scorpius hasn't noticed him yet. And given his own overwhelming feeling of surrealism, Albus isn't sure he's not hallucinating this whole thing in the first place.
"Rose," he hisses. This is important; he needs to make sure he's not going crazy, who cares if his cousin's getting chatted up right and proper. "Rosie dear. Cuz!" The pet name's what catches Rose's interest, (it's funny how much Rose dislikes nicknames), and though his cousin now looks like she wants to castrate him, he has her attention. "Look. Over there. Tell me if I'm seeing things." He jerks a thumb in the vague direction of Malfoy.
Rose rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. She does give a vaguely apologetic look to the man conversing with her though. "What am I supposed to be looking for?" By now, Rose is used to dealing with her cousins' whims, a byproduct of growing up with them. The Potter-Weasley clan is a tight-knit one.
"Scorp Malfoy, of course! What's he doing in a Muggle club?"
Ah. Scorpius, of course. And it is him, after all, which does surprise her. She's kept up with him since graduation, but he's always looked the model wizard then. This him is... interesting. Intriguing even. "Oh, he can be at a Muggle club if he wants. Scorpius!" she waves and calls him over. She's not above using a little magic to ensure he hears, either. "Over here!"
Beside her, Albus buries his head into the wood of the bar and groans. "Roooooose. How could you?"
If Harry Potter spent sixth year being slightly obsessed with Draco Malfoy - and Rose has heard all about it from her Mum - then his son spent most of his time at Hogwarts avoiding Draco's. No one had ever gotten out of Al why either, especially since every time someone actually asked, Al just mumbled something under his breath and ran. Not that everyone didn't have their own little theories already. Well, Scorpius Malfoy is her friend, even if he doesn't regard her as likewise if he didn't bother telling her about this.
"Rose!" Scorpius is grinning when he finally jabs his way through the crowd. "If I'd known you came here I'd have invited you myself."
"And how come I didn't know you came, hm?" Rose retorts. It's a fair point, so Scorpius concedes his fault with a small bow. "Does your father know you're here?"
"No, so don't tell him!" and they both laugh, and Al feels sulkily alone. As Rose and Scorpius launch into a catching-up conversation, Al turns towards the alcohol. Maybe a drink or five will make him feel better - Rose can be so embarrassing. "Absinthe," he grunts at the pretty girl manning the bar, feeling a little better when she grins and winks at him.
"Come on, it can't be that bad!" the girl says as she hands him a glass. "There are much better girls here than that bushy-haired one you were chatting up."
Albus chokes even more than he usually does after drinking absinthe and thinks it's a good thing Rose didn't hear. Ego boost that she's been paying attention to him or not, the idea of him and Rose- ugh, no. "She's my cousin! Not a chance!" he manages to cough out, looking scandalized. He throws back the rest of his drink after that, before turning to fight his way back across the packed dance floor, trying to ignore the peals of laughter behind him.
Through the ambient noise, he catches snatches of lyrics: ...is coming like a ghost town/Bands won’t play no more/Too much fighting on the dance floor. It's exactly what his current mood requires - something dark and bleak. He elbows himself a little more space (it is Saturday night after all, he muses), and starts to sway and hum along to the music.
He gets so lost in the moment that he doesn't notice Scorpius making a beeline for him, the blond surreptitiously using his wand to convince those in his way that they need the loo right now. If he had, he'd have tried to run away.
"Oh! You made me jump!" gasps Al, when Scorpius claps a hand on his shoulder. He receives a smirk in reply that makes him feel weak at the knees, a reaction he's not going to examine too closely. Instead, he asks, "Where's Rose?" and attempts to regain his composure.
"She's over there somewhere,” shrugs Scorpius. "Trying to steal cigarettes from someone, I think. I didn't ask."
"Better not be that bloke she was with earlier, he was a complete wanker."
Scorpius pretends not to hear and instead moves closer. Albus's brain nearly sputters to a stop at that, and actually does when Scorpius purrs in his ear. "Looks like it's just us. Excellent, I want to get to know you better."
On the one hand, Al thinks as his brain restarts, that right there just made a humdrum evening rather more interesting. On the other, he kind of did spend seven years of Hogwarts trying to make himself invisible from Scorpius. To his vast relief a shrill voice breaks through his thought processes before he can make a decision. "Al! Albus? ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER GET YOUR SKINNY ARSE OVER HERE NOW!"
"Fuck!" breathes Al, which earns him a raised eyebrow from Scorpius.
Into his ear, Scorpius whispers back, "Later," and then he is gone, lost in the crowd, escaping from Rose's wrath.
"There you are!" Rose humphed, grabbing Al by his shoulders and spinning him around to face her. "The rat bastard had wandering hands. I swear he was about to undo my bra!" Al knows he should be angry on his cousin's behalf, but he can't quite summon the energy. Rose is more than capable of defending herself - his Aunt Hermione has made sure of that, and Al has been covered in bruises on numerous occasions when Rose wanted to 'practice' her techniques.
"What a git," he merely replies. "Does it really mean we have to leave though? Not everyone here is like that, and I've just started dancing…" Rose glares at Al, just as he becomes aware that he is whining like a two year old. Classy.
Rose doesn't dignify him with a response; instead she grabs Al's arm and drags him out of the club. This is what usually happens - Rose leads and he follows. It certainly hadn't been his idea to come here in the first place; Rose had wanted to experience Muggle culture in order to become a 'well-rounded witch'. Al can detect a hint of Aunt Hermione there too, and he's been at the receiving end of enough talks. Still the night hadn't been all bad, he reflects, thinking of Malfoy.
Scorpius, he corrects his brain, and then stops thinking on it.
------
The next week seems to crawl. By Wednesday he's about to crack, and he floos over to Rose's place. Before he knows it he's sitting on Rose’s bed, nursing a cup of tea, and Rose has her no-nonsense face on and is pushing him to talk. "Out with it, I haven’t got all day. What's wrong with you? You've got a face like a wet weekend."
Al aims for a relaxed and casual pose in an attempt to put Rose off the coming conversation, but suspects that he just looks foolish. This suspicion is confirmed when he loses his balance and falls off the bed, spilling his tea in the process.
"Oh for Merlin’s sake!" Rose huffs, and spells the mess away. "If you're trying to tell me that you have a crush on Scorpius, then don’t bother. It's horribly and painfully obvious."
"You knew!?" He nearly spills his tea again, and then a little too eagerly for his liking, tacks on, "Are we going back on Saturday to see him?" Play it cool, Al, he has to tell himself sternly. No need to go all Hufflepuff over this.
His heart still sinks when Rose says no. "I've got my Soroptimists meeting with Mum," Rose is saying. "She's still going on about the glass ceiling." Al nods and tries to look interested and understanding, but he has no idea what Soroptimists do, and frankly he doesn't care all that much. (Anyway, he suspects it has something to do with Muggle women wearing power suits with absurdly large shoulder pads, but that may just be him.)
"You should go by yourself, really," continues Rose. "You won't want me around if you're getting it on with Scorpius." Al opens his mouth to disagree, but before he can get any further he's suddenly pushed toward the floo by Rose. "The time! I'm late! Oh, I'm a very busy woman!" she yelps, dashing around her room grabbing various bits and pieces. Al waves, and then floos back to his house. How is he ever going to prepare for Saturday?
------
Al feels rather silly, sneaking around in his own home. Looking left and right, he tiptoes onto the landing, making sure he isn't seen or heard. This is a top-secret mission, and it is vital that he isn't discovered. "Finally, it's Saturday!" he whispers to himself, as he opens the door to Lily's bedroom. Creeping over to her makeup drawer, he carefully selects some black liquid for around his eyes, some black powder for his eyelids, and some glitter. Al's not entirely sure what he’s going to do with the glitter, but hopefully inspiration will strike. Rose had been the one to fix him up last time. As he sneaks back to his room, he breathes a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished!
Makeup, and then clothes. He has no idea how Scorpius does it, but he nearly makes a mess of things before managing to get the liner and eyeshadow on. Scorp's makeup had looked experienced. Clothes are easier to put on, at least; Al shrinks a pair of black jeans so they are skintight, and adds a black T-shirt and boots atop it. There, he nods, satisfied. He still doesn't have a clue what he's doing, but he thinks he should fit in a bit more now.
Suddenly the door opens, and his dad walks into the room. "Al, have you seen my..." his dad begins, then stops dead when he realises what Al looks like.
"Hi Dad," mumbles Al back, staring at the floor, while his Dad laughs hysterically.
"Where on Earth are you going, dressed up like that?" gasps Harry, between bouts of laughter.
Al sulks. He thinks he looks perfectly fine. Hopefully. Maybe. "Just out. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late," and then he scurries out of the room as quickly as possible. He's getting tired of people laughing at him.
He can't spot Scorpius when he arrives at the club, so he decides to take stock of his surroundings instead. He'd been a bit distracted last time, so he hadn't had a chance to really look around. It's difficult to tell because of the smoke, but the club seems even busier than last week.
Slowly, Al becomes aware of someone behind him, before hands are placed over his eyes. "Guess who," Scorpius croons, and then licks his ear. While he's still dazed at it, Scorpius takes advantage and drags him onto the dance floor.
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to be used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
The loud music stirs something within Albus, and he wraps himself around Scorp as though he had been turned into Devil's Snare. Scorpius likes him, he thinks, and with no warning, he is diving on Scorp's mouth, causing the other man to jump slightly before settling into the kiss. It is hot and needy, with both of them battling for dominance. They stay on the dance floor for a while, grinding against each other and kissing. Eventually, it's too much and they pull apart.
"My place?" murmurs Scorpius, running his hand through Al's messy hair. Al doesn't even reply, he is already heading for the door, dragging Scorp behind him. Once outside, they grab for each other again, and with barely a glance to make sure no one can see, Scorp apparates them straight to his bedroom.
The sight of the bed sobers Albus like nothing else, and suddenly, with nobody else but the two of them he turns shy. "Er," he says, and then pauses. Scorpius, who had been leaning in, looks at him questioningly. He rubs at the back of his head nervously and then asks in a rush, "Soarewedatingorsomething?"
Scorpius cocks one eyebrow, prompting clarification, and fuck, that shouldn't look so sexy. Albus takes a deep breath, and then another, slowing down. "Are we dating? Or something?"
"You're surprisingly traditional," Scorpius says in response to that. But the blond gives a shrug and a grin, too, which is more reassuring. "Sure, why not? Now let me show you just what us Ravenclaws have learned from our books."
That's a terrible pick-up line, is Al's last thought before his brain fitzes out. Scorpius had started kissing his way down Albus's neck, pausing only long enough to tug Al's shirt off, and between that and Scorpius's delightfully pale fingers stroking his thigh, Al really can't string together a thought. They make it to the bed, somewhere along the way, and - oh! Scorpius really was learned at this - Al lets his own hands fumble over Scorp's skin as they tumble onto the sheets.
"Mmm, yes, keep doing that," Scorpius murmurs against his shoulder as Al tweaks a nipple. "Done this before?"
"Um, what?" comes out only halfway coherent.
Scorpius gives a wicked grin. "Sex. With a guy."
"Oh. No. That bad?" Now that Scorpius is talking and thus has made himself more accessible, Albus ducks his head to teeth the aforementioned nipple. Never let it be said he didn't pick things up quickly. Scorpius makes brilliant noises at his ministrations, which only encourages him to keep at it.
"No. Do you- nnn, yes- do you know the mechanics?"
"Can I wank you off?" he answers, not really thinking. To be honest, he doesn't have the brainpower at the moment to seriously consider words like 'mechanics'; Al thinks Scorpius needs to stop talking and get on to the sex. Sex! He's sure he can figure that out. Brilliant as this is though, it would be even more so if Scorpius weren't distracted. "Stop talking," he commands, and reaches for Scorp's cock to emphasize his point.
Scorpius jerks his hips against Albus beneath him at the touch. "Fuck! No, Al, let me show you the joys of gay sex," and batting Albus's hands away, Scorpius shifts so he can reach the bedside drawer. From it he pulls out lube, deftly popping the cap open and squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers. "Geez, once you get started, you really get started, don't you? Ready?"
As if he weren't. Albus just stares at Scorpius to get on it, because whether he realized it or not, he's kind of been waiting for this for years. And then Scorpius plunges one slick finger into his arsehole, and - oh fuck, that felt weird! - began gently loosening the muscles and murmuring, "Relax, Al, c'mon."
They go slow now, despite their speed earlier, though when Scorpius finally guides his cock against Al's entrance it still burns at the stretching. It can't be helped though, and both of them are panting when Scorp is actually inside Al, Al gritting his teeth as he adjusts to the intrusion. His ass clenches reflexively, drawing a breathless moan from Scorpius's lips.
Then Scorpius moves.
It takes the blond awhile to build up a rhythm, but once Al gets used to it and moving with him, it feels really, really good. Stupendous, astronomical - really, Al could come up with a million words that wouldn't encompass the feeling, so he just goes with really, really good. There's a brief road bump when Scorpius changes his angle; his irritation melts into babbling though when pleasure explodes with each thrust. "Oh, oh, oh, Scor-"
After that, it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come. "Sorry," Al apologizes, but Scorpius just smiles and keeps fucking, curling enough to bite at Al's shoulder as chastisement and reassurance both.
As soon as Scorpius feels his building climax he lets himself go.
They slump against each other, in a post-orgasm haze. It's probably a good thing there's no one expecting him to be home any time soon, Al figures; he's not sure he'd be able to go anywhere any time soon if he had to. The heat of sex is quickly dissipating with their cooling sweat, and where he's not covered by Scorp his skin is popping goosebumps. He's arsed to bother with blankets either, though.
Neither of them hear the key turning. It's only when they hear a footstep that they realize there's someone else in the flat. "Were you expecting someone?" Al asks.
"Nnooooo," Scorpius draws out, unsure. He's fairly sure he had no previous engagements.
Their questions are answered when an annoyingly familiar voice ring through the place. "Son! I know you're home; your shoes are actually here for once. For Merlin's sake, I told you to stop skipping the family dinners, you know they're every Saturday! What's your excuse this..." and then Draco reaches the bedroom. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Potter junior the second."
"Your dad nags like a fussy mother," Al grumbles, sotto voce, more to cover up the embarrassment of being caught out by his new boyfriend's dad than anything. Scorpius shoots him a dirty look for it, jerks the blanket over the two of them with more force than necessary.
"Father."
Draco shuts his mouth with a clack. He takes in the alarming amount of skin, the smeared make-up on both their faces, the glitter. "I blame this on Potter," and neither Al nor Scorpius are sure which Potter he means, before he turns on his heel and lets himself out.
Albus buries his face into the comforter. "Well that was awkward."
"You called my dad a fussy mother!" Judging by the look on Scorpius's face, he's wibbling between horrified laughter at the whole situation or smacking Al.
He makes up his mind when Al grumbles back, "Well, he is," and thumps Al one on the back of the head.
"Well, how would your dad react to seeing us like this?" he asks, and Al just makes a face at him, like the other man's remembering something horrifying.
"He laughs," Al says. "A lot."
And after that he refuses to say anything more.
(The story behind it turns out to involve James, Teddy, and Victoire, and Scorpius has to admit - he didn't want to know.)
-End-
Title: Too Much Fighting on the Dance Floor
Time/Setting: London, 1980s
Word Count: 3.231
Betas: whydoesitcry
Rating: NC-17 (I think?)
Media (only for art): Music, CD covers
Summary: Al sees Scorp Malfoy dancing. What on earth is going on?
Author's/Artist's Notes: Songs by Si and the Snakes!
Art:
Download the Soundtrack: Waiting For The Damned/Soundtrack To My Heart, lyrics to both songs, cover art for both songs
Too Much Fighting On The Dance Floor
Songs used--
Ghost Town - The Specials
Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - The Eurythmics
Scorpius Malfoy is the last person Albus had ever expected to see at the club.
He even thinks he'd been mistaken at first; a man with white blond hair does not, necessarily, make a Malfoy. But then the man turns around, moving to the beat of the music, and well. For all the makeup and delicately-mussed hair, there is no mistaking those pointy features.
Scorpius hasn't noticed him yet. And given his own overwhelming feeling of surrealism, Albus isn't sure he's not hallucinating this whole thing in the first place.
"Rose," he hisses. This is important; he needs to make sure he's not going crazy, who cares if his cousin's getting chatted up right and proper. "Rosie dear. Cuz!" The pet name's what catches Rose's interest, (it's funny how much Rose dislikes nicknames), and though his cousin now looks like she wants to castrate him, he has her attention. "Look. Over there. Tell me if I'm seeing things." He jerks a thumb in the vague direction of Malfoy.
Rose rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. She does give a vaguely apologetic look to the man conversing with her though. "What am I supposed to be looking for?" By now, Rose is used to dealing with her cousins' whims, a byproduct of growing up with them. The Potter-Weasley clan is a tight-knit one.
"Scorp Malfoy, of course! What's he doing in a Muggle club?"
Ah. Scorpius, of course. And it is him, after all, which does surprise her. She's kept up with him since graduation, but he's always looked the model wizard then. This him is... interesting. Intriguing even. "Oh, he can be at a Muggle club if he wants. Scorpius!" she waves and calls him over. She's not above using a little magic to ensure he hears, either. "Over here!"
Beside her, Albus buries his head into the wood of the bar and groans. "Roooooose. How could you?"
If Harry Potter spent sixth year being slightly obsessed with Draco Malfoy - and Rose has heard all about it from her Mum - then his son spent most of his time at Hogwarts avoiding Draco's. No one had ever gotten out of Al why either, especially since every time someone actually asked, Al just mumbled something under his breath and ran. Not that everyone didn't have their own little theories already. Well, Scorpius Malfoy is her friend, even if he doesn't regard her as likewise if he didn't bother telling her about this.
"Rose!" Scorpius is grinning when he finally jabs his way through the crowd. "If I'd known you came here I'd have invited you myself."
"And how come I didn't know you came, hm?" Rose retorts. It's a fair point, so Scorpius concedes his fault with a small bow. "Does your father know you're here?"
"No, so don't tell him!" and they both laugh, and Al feels sulkily alone. As Rose and Scorpius launch into a catching-up conversation, Al turns towards the alcohol. Maybe a drink or five will make him feel better - Rose can be so embarrassing. "Absinthe," he grunts at the pretty girl manning the bar, feeling a little better when she grins and winks at him.
"Come on, it can't be that bad!" the girl says as she hands him a glass. "There are much better girls here than that bushy-haired one you were chatting up."
Albus chokes even more than he usually does after drinking absinthe and thinks it's a good thing Rose didn't hear. Ego boost that she's been paying attention to him or not, the idea of him and Rose- ugh, no. "She's my cousin! Not a chance!" he manages to cough out, looking scandalized. He throws back the rest of his drink after that, before turning to fight his way back across the packed dance floor, trying to ignore the peals of laughter behind him.
Through the ambient noise, he catches snatches of lyrics: ...is coming like a ghost town/Bands won’t play no more/Too much fighting on the dance floor. It's exactly what his current mood requires - something dark and bleak. He elbows himself a little more space (it is Saturday night after all, he muses), and starts to sway and hum along to the music.
He gets so lost in the moment that he doesn't notice Scorpius making a beeline for him, the blond surreptitiously using his wand to convince those in his way that they need the loo right now. If he had, he'd have tried to run away.
"Oh! You made me jump!" gasps Al, when Scorpius claps a hand on his shoulder. He receives a smirk in reply that makes him feel weak at the knees, a reaction he's not going to examine too closely. Instead, he asks, "Where's Rose?" and attempts to regain his composure.
"She's over there somewhere,” shrugs Scorpius. "Trying to steal cigarettes from someone, I think. I didn't ask."
"Better not be that bloke she was with earlier, he was a complete wanker."
Scorpius pretends not to hear and instead moves closer. Albus's brain nearly sputters to a stop at that, and actually does when Scorpius purrs in his ear. "Looks like it's just us. Excellent, I want to get to know you better."
On the one hand, Al thinks as his brain restarts, that right there just made a humdrum evening rather more interesting. On the other, he kind of did spend seven years of Hogwarts trying to make himself invisible from Scorpius. To his vast relief a shrill voice breaks through his thought processes before he can make a decision. "Al! Albus? ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER GET YOUR SKINNY ARSE OVER HERE NOW!"
"Fuck!" breathes Al, which earns him a raised eyebrow from Scorpius.
Into his ear, Scorpius whispers back, "Later," and then he is gone, lost in the crowd, escaping from Rose's wrath.
"There you are!" Rose humphed, grabbing Al by his shoulders and spinning him around to face her. "The rat bastard had wandering hands. I swear he was about to undo my bra!" Al knows he should be angry on his cousin's behalf, but he can't quite summon the energy. Rose is more than capable of defending herself - his Aunt Hermione has made sure of that, and Al has been covered in bruises on numerous occasions when Rose wanted to 'practice' her techniques.
"What a git," he merely replies. "Does it really mean we have to leave though? Not everyone here is like that, and I've just started dancing…" Rose glares at Al, just as he becomes aware that he is whining like a two year old. Classy.
Rose doesn't dignify him with a response; instead she grabs Al's arm and drags him out of the club. This is what usually happens - Rose leads and he follows. It certainly hadn't been his idea to come here in the first place; Rose had wanted to experience Muggle culture in order to become a 'well-rounded witch'. Al can detect a hint of Aunt Hermione there too, and he's been at the receiving end of enough talks. Still the night hadn't been all bad, he reflects, thinking of Malfoy.
Scorpius, he corrects his brain, and then stops thinking on it.
------
The next week seems to crawl. By Wednesday he's about to crack, and he floos over to Rose's place. Before he knows it he's sitting on Rose’s bed, nursing a cup of tea, and Rose has her no-nonsense face on and is pushing him to talk. "Out with it, I haven’t got all day. What's wrong with you? You've got a face like a wet weekend."
Al aims for a relaxed and casual pose in an attempt to put Rose off the coming conversation, but suspects that he just looks foolish. This suspicion is confirmed when he loses his balance and falls off the bed, spilling his tea in the process.
"Oh for Merlin’s sake!" Rose huffs, and spells the mess away. "If you're trying to tell me that you have a crush on Scorpius, then don’t bother. It's horribly and painfully obvious."
"You knew!?" He nearly spills his tea again, and then a little too eagerly for his liking, tacks on, "Are we going back on Saturday to see him?" Play it cool, Al, he has to tell himself sternly. No need to go all Hufflepuff over this.
His heart still sinks when Rose says no. "I've got my Soroptimists meeting with Mum," Rose is saying. "She's still going on about the glass ceiling." Al nods and tries to look interested and understanding, but he has no idea what Soroptimists do, and frankly he doesn't care all that much. (Anyway, he suspects it has something to do with Muggle women wearing power suits with absurdly large shoulder pads, but that may just be him.)
"You should go by yourself, really," continues Rose. "You won't want me around if you're getting it on with Scorpius." Al opens his mouth to disagree, but before he can get any further he's suddenly pushed toward the floo by Rose. "The time! I'm late! Oh, I'm a very busy woman!" she yelps, dashing around her room grabbing various bits and pieces. Al waves, and then floos back to his house. How is he ever going to prepare for Saturday?
------
Al feels rather silly, sneaking around in his own home. Looking left and right, he tiptoes onto the landing, making sure he isn't seen or heard. This is a top-secret mission, and it is vital that he isn't discovered. "Finally, it's Saturday!" he whispers to himself, as he opens the door to Lily's bedroom. Creeping over to her makeup drawer, he carefully selects some black liquid for around his eyes, some black powder for his eyelids, and some glitter. Al's not entirely sure what he’s going to do with the glitter, but hopefully inspiration will strike. Rose had been the one to fix him up last time. As he sneaks back to his room, he breathes a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished!
Makeup, and then clothes. He has no idea how Scorpius does it, but he nearly makes a mess of things before managing to get the liner and eyeshadow on. Scorp's makeup had looked experienced. Clothes are easier to put on, at least; Al shrinks a pair of black jeans so they are skintight, and adds a black T-shirt and boots atop it. There, he nods, satisfied. He still doesn't have a clue what he's doing, but he thinks he should fit in a bit more now.
Suddenly the door opens, and his dad walks into the room. "Al, have you seen my..." his dad begins, then stops dead when he realises what Al looks like.
"Hi Dad," mumbles Al back, staring at the floor, while his Dad laughs hysterically.
"Where on Earth are you going, dressed up like that?" gasps Harry, between bouts of laughter.
Al sulks. He thinks he looks perfectly fine. Hopefully. Maybe. "Just out. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late," and then he scurries out of the room as quickly as possible. He's getting tired of people laughing at him.
He can't spot Scorpius when he arrives at the club, so he decides to take stock of his surroundings instead. He'd been a bit distracted last time, so he hadn't had a chance to really look around. It's difficult to tell because of the smoke, but the club seems even busier than last week.
Slowly, Al becomes aware of someone behind him, before hands are placed over his eyes. "Guess who," Scorpius croons, and then licks his ear. While he's still dazed at it, Scorpius takes advantage and drags him onto the dance floor.
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to be used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
The loud music stirs something within Albus, and he wraps himself around Scorp as though he had been turned into Devil's Snare. Scorpius likes him, he thinks, and with no warning, he is diving on Scorp's mouth, causing the other man to jump slightly before settling into the kiss. It is hot and needy, with both of them battling for dominance. They stay on the dance floor for a while, grinding against each other and kissing. Eventually, it's too much and they pull apart.
"My place?" murmurs Scorpius, running his hand through Al's messy hair. Al doesn't even reply, he is already heading for the door, dragging Scorp behind him. Once outside, they grab for each other again, and with barely a glance to make sure no one can see, Scorp apparates them straight to his bedroom.
The sight of the bed sobers Albus like nothing else, and suddenly, with nobody else but the two of them he turns shy. "Er," he says, and then pauses. Scorpius, who had been leaning in, looks at him questioningly. He rubs at the back of his head nervously and then asks in a rush, "Soarewedatingorsomething?"
Scorpius cocks one eyebrow, prompting clarification, and fuck, that shouldn't look so sexy. Albus takes a deep breath, and then another, slowing down. "Are we dating? Or something?"
"You're surprisingly traditional," Scorpius says in response to that. But the blond gives a shrug and a grin, too, which is more reassuring. "Sure, why not? Now let me show you just what us Ravenclaws have learned from our books."
That's a terrible pick-up line, is Al's last thought before his brain fitzes out. Scorpius had started kissing his way down Albus's neck, pausing only long enough to tug Al's shirt off, and between that and Scorpius's delightfully pale fingers stroking his thigh, Al really can't string together a thought. They make it to the bed, somewhere along the way, and - oh! Scorpius really was learned at this - Al lets his own hands fumble over Scorp's skin as they tumble onto the sheets.
"Mmm, yes, keep doing that," Scorpius murmurs against his shoulder as Al tweaks a nipple. "Done this before?"
"Um, what?" comes out only halfway coherent.
Scorpius gives a wicked grin. "Sex. With a guy."
"Oh. No. That bad?" Now that Scorpius is talking and thus has made himself more accessible, Albus ducks his head to teeth the aforementioned nipple. Never let it be said he didn't pick things up quickly. Scorpius makes brilliant noises at his ministrations, which only encourages him to keep at it.
"No. Do you- nnn, yes- do you know the mechanics?"
"Can I wank you off?" he answers, not really thinking. To be honest, he doesn't have the brainpower at the moment to seriously consider words like 'mechanics'; Al thinks Scorpius needs to stop talking and get on to the sex. Sex! He's sure he can figure that out. Brilliant as this is though, it would be even more so if Scorpius weren't distracted. "Stop talking," he commands, and reaches for Scorp's cock to emphasize his point.
Scorpius jerks his hips against Albus beneath him at the touch. "Fuck! No, Al, let me show you the joys of gay sex," and batting Albus's hands away, Scorpius shifts so he can reach the bedside drawer. From it he pulls out lube, deftly popping the cap open and squeezing a liberal amount onto his fingers. "Geez, once you get started, you really get started, don't you? Ready?"
As if he weren't. Albus just stares at Scorpius to get on it, because whether he realized it or not, he's kind of been waiting for this for years. And then Scorpius plunges one slick finger into his arsehole, and - oh fuck, that felt weird! - began gently loosening the muscles and murmuring, "Relax, Al, c'mon."
They go slow now, despite their speed earlier, though when Scorpius finally guides his cock against Al's entrance it still burns at the stretching. It can't be helped though, and both of them are panting when Scorp is actually inside Al, Al gritting his teeth as he adjusts to the intrusion. His ass clenches reflexively, drawing a breathless moan from Scorpius's lips.
Then Scorpius moves.
It takes the blond awhile to build up a rhythm, but once Al gets used to it and moving with him, it feels really, really good. Stupendous, astronomical - really, Al could come up with a million words that wouldn't encompass the feeling, so he just goes with really, really good. There's a brief road bump when Scorpius changes his angle; his irritation melts into babbling though when pleasure explodes with each thrust. "Oh, oh, oh, Scor-"
After that, it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come. "Sorry," Al apologizes, but Scorpius just smiles and keeps fucking, curling enough to bite at Al's shoulder as chastisement and reassurance both.
As soon as Scorpius feels his building climax he lets himself go.
They slump against each other, in a post-orgasm haze. It's probably a good thing there's no one expecting him to be home any time soon, Al figures; he's not sure he'd be able to go anywhere any time soon if he had to. The heat of sex is quickly dissipating with their cooling sweat, and where he's not covered by Scorp his skin is popping goosebumps. He's arsed to bother with blankets either, though.
Neither of them hear the key turning. It's only when they hear a footstep that they realize there's someone else in the flat. "Were you expecting someone?" Al asks.
"Nnooooo," Scorpius draws out, unsure. He's fairly sure he had no previous engagements.
Their questions are answered when an annoyingly familiar voice ring through the place. "Son! I know you're home; your shoes are actually here for once. For Merlin's sake, I told you to stop skipping the family dinners, you know they're every Saturday! What's your excuse this..." and then Draco reaches the bedroom. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Potter junior the second."
"Your dad nags like a fussy mother," Al grumbles, sotto voce, more to cover up the embarrassment of being caught out by his new boyfriend's dad than anything. Scorpius shoots him a dirty look for it, jerks the blanket over the two of them with more force than necessary.
"Father."
Draco shuts his mouth with a clack. He takes in the alarming amount of skin, the smeared make-up on both their faces, the glitter. "I blame this on Potter," and neither Al nor Scorpius are sure which Potter he means, before he turns on his heel and lets himself out.
Albus buries his face into the comforter. "Well that was awkward."
"You called my dad a fussy mother!" Judging by the look on Scorpius's face, he's wibbling between horrified laughter at the whole situation or smacking Al.
He makes up his mind when Al grumbles back, "Well, he is," and thumps Al one on the back of the head.
"Well, how would your dad react to seeing us like this?" he asks, and Al just makes a face at him, like the other man's remembering something horrifying.
"He laughs," Al says. "A lot."
And after that he refuses to say anything more.
(The story behind it turns out to involve James, Teddy, and Victoire, and Scorpius has to admit - he didn't want to know.)
-End-