volumetwo | (no subject)

"Fine," he murmurs, and he should really let him go do it now, but he's reluctant to let him go. Just another few minutes of snogging, he thinks, and then he'll be sated. Surely he will. "Just in a second. I'll toss it in the wash so you can get on your way."

And then he's kissing him again, dragging him closer still.

Scorpius moans. He likes when he can push James to the point of willingness. Or past it, as it seems he has now. Likes when James is the one pulling him in for a change, shoving his tongue into his mouth, and Scorpius feels really, truly wanted. Needed, even. Loved.

It's the reminder of James's little confession over the telephone that has Scorpius rocking against him, groping down his body, sliding a hand between James's legs.

"...bedroom," he hums, a minute later.

"Laundry," James mumbles instead, exhaling a little gasp that he can't quite swallow down when Scorpius actually slides the hand between his legs. His own fingers are sliding up the back of his shirt, rucking it up, privately savoring the fact that it's his shirt that Scorpius is in, his clothes that he's wearing, and he holds the other boy as he grinds up against him, ducking back in for a harder kiss than before.

"Do you ahh --- really want --- hnnn --- to fuck me in the laundry?" Scorpius gasps between kisses, thoroughly turned on just from that alone. James's mouth is so possessive, warm, a little rough but so very affectionate. It's like neither of them had come earlier at all; it feels like they could do this all night, as far as Scorpius is concerned.

His hand curls around the bulge growing in James's trousers, palming him tenderly, feeling the hardness out as it grows.

"No," he mumbles back, and it's almost a whine. As far as James is concerned, he barely came earlier at all -- he'd stressed himself out so badly with his own impromptu love confession that it had been hasty, embarrassed. Disappointing. It's likely that's why he's so easily excited again now, coupled with the relief of everything else. "Need to wash your shirt, you gotta- ngh, go back to school-"

But he's pressing himself against Scorpius's hand, eager as he ducks his head away from the kiss to attack his throat with a fierce fondness.

With a sigh of pleasure as James's lips and teeth find his throat, Scorpius rocks against him, gripping a little tighter to the outline of his cock, desperate to get his skin on James's, desperate to see him naked, laying out on his bed, probably blushing.

It winds Scorpius up, but this... This is sort of more about James, and Scorpius doesn't mind at all.

"So I should just hhah --- suck you off? Right here and now? Quick, probably, huh?"

He can't deny that the thought is beyond appealing, Scorpius on his knees in front of him, right there in the kitchen -- and the casual way he talks about it, too, has him almost shuddering with pure desire. He digs his teeth into his the side of his neck, just at the juncture of it and his shoulder, sucking hard once before laving his tongue against the skin -- he's stalling for time, pure and simply, as he struggles to decide on an answer.

Finally, his fingers settle into the bare skin of the small of Scorpius's back, and he half-whines again: "Couch?"

It's a compromise, one that Scorpius will happily take. Mostly because 'couch' means James isn't against him staying a little while longer. Even if they only snog for a few minutes, that could keep Scorpius going for another week or two. It's just getting harder and harder to leave the more their relationship grows, and as nerve-wracking as it is to think he's in a relationship at all, let alone with James Potter, it's also incredibly exciting.

He's in a relationship.

With James Potter.

There's heat on his face as he pulls back, tugging James with him. "Couch," he agrees.

There's something like relief on James's face when Scorpius agrees, even if he isn't quite sure why. This is all new and exciting and terrifying, and half of the time he's still surprised that it's another boy that has him going like this, much less a Malfoy.

What he doesn't let himself dwell on is the fact that he couldn't imagine it being this way with anyone else.

So, easily, he follows Scorpius to the couch, expression almost deviously playful when they get near it and he attempts to wrestle him onto it.

Scorpius laughs, manages to put up a good fight, but eventually winds up pressed down into the cushions with James on top of him. Really, he'd settle for this, too. For just having James's hands on him, grinning, flushed.

He's just...gorgeous. Beautiful.

"Sexy." The word comes out before he means to let it. So he covers his embarrassment with a kiss.

James blinks a little at that, more surprised at Scorpius's embarrassment than the actual word itself. He allows himself to sink into the kiss, sliding down against him as he lifts a hand to touch the side of his face, pressing another warm one against his mouth. His heart is beating hard in his own throat and he can feel the blood in his face when he mumbles carefully: "Yeah. You bloody are."

"I meant you, you dolt," he grumbles, feeling impossibly stupid looking up at James like this. He's never fancied himself someone into the softer things, and he's understood for a while now that what most boys his age want is something quick and easy. This whole relationship thing scares him to death, mostly because he thinks he wants it more than anything else in the world.

"Yeah," James huffs in response, feeling similarly pretty stupid with the way his own glasses are sliding down off the bridge of his nose. He shifts a little, trying to line himself up with Scorpius, rolling his hips down against him in a not-so-subtle attempt to work up some friction that he's pretty desperate for right then. "And I meant you. So?"

Scorpius huffed right back at him, lowering his gaze between their bodies, where he can see the outline of James's cock against his pants, rubbing into him. He licks his lips, losing all breath in his lungs for a full minute, and then looks back up at James, meeting his eyes.

One hand delves between their bodies, tugging the zip of his fly down and sliding his fingers over James's bulge in his underwear.

"You're really hard," he murmurs, swallowing the intensity of the emotions in his throat.

James actually groans when Scorpius's fingers graze over his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, shifting to press his lips against his temple and breathing a little raggedly. "Yeah," he answers, wondering why he suddenly feels so shy about this. "Wonder why that is, you prat."

With a chuckle, Scorpius teases for a few more seconds and then slips his fingers into the hole of James's boxers to find his length, gently pulling it out so he can see his own hand on it. Scorpius has always known, for the longest time, that he was gay, but seeing James's Potter's cock in his hand could have made anybody think that.

His gaze lifts to James's eyes. Leaning up, he presses a tender, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth and murmurs, "My fault..?"

"Yeah," James groans softly, twisting his head to meet that little lingering kiss. He pauses there to simply breath against Scorpius's mouth, eyes shut as he focuses on the sensation of that hand on him. "Always your fault," he admits, because it's true: it feels like his thoughts rarely stray far from Scorpius Malfoy these days.

It's highly embarrassing. And yet, it's also exciting. It keeps Scorpius going, knowing what he can do to someone as confident and strong as James is. If he wanted, he could bring him to his knees. And probably has, too.

"Good."

Stroking James a little faster, Scorpius closes his eyes. Taking care of James is priority number one. Sure, it makes him hard too, but there's something really kind of arousing about putting James's needs before his own.

It's easier, maybe, to be emotionally honest in moments like this. This is the ultimate form of physical honesty, too, isn't it? Maybe one just naturally follows the other, and he pants softly against Scorpius's cheek, hips rocking and shifting to try to help Scorpius out. He licks his dry lips, then impulsively licks the shell of the other boy's ear, before mumbling in a husky voice, thick with arousal: "Say you love me, too."

Merlin.

Scorpius closes his eyes, feelings his body quake against that plea. Say you love me, too. It's more difficult than he thought it would be, not because it isn't true, but because to put himself out there like that is to invite ridicule. And eventually, if he loses James, it will sting that much worse, having told him such a thing.

Still, with James's cock in his grip and James's mouth at his ear and James's body on top of his own, Scorpius can't help but be honest.

"I love you," he murmurs, and stupidly, there are tears pricking the backs of his eyelids, and he hates the tremble of his voice when he admits it aloud. He jerks James faster, as if to compensate.

If Ginny has told him once, she's told him a thousand times: you cannot Apparate into your son's apartment unannounced! Use the door like a normal person! And in theory, it makes perfect sense to Harry. He vows to give James his necessary privacy and not intrude on him, because he's an adult, and he remembers what it was like to be young and want people out of his business.

Still, there's theory and then there's reality. And the reality of it is, Harry is too used to just walking in on James at the office, if he's at home, and his flat is just an extension of that. So when Harry Apparates directly into James's flat, it's not because he's trying to catch James in some sort of lie or something - it's because he's genuinely forgotten there should be a problem with that.

"Oi, James, are you ar----"

It's like a bad Muggle comedy show. For a moment, all Harry sees is James on the couch....and then it all comes into focus. James and someone else. Someone male. Someone blond. Someone----

"Malfoy?!"

For a split second, the timing is too comedically perfect for James to even consider the fact that this might be real. This is the stuff of every boy's nightmare: caught in the throes of passion with someone else, with someone secret, with someone who is very much supposed to be in school, caught by his father. He stares up, eyes wide and face white with panic when realization sets in that no, no- this is very much real.

At least that's one way to kill his erection immediately. He flushes hard suddenly, ducking his face down and twisting, trying to button himself back into his own trousers as surreptitiously as possible as he throws himself to his feet. For a moment, James looks every part the shamed kid.

"It's - Da, it's not what it looks like," he pants out, but his hair is rumpled and his mouth is wet and his clothes are wrinkled, and James swallows hard after he blurts the excuse.

Harry doesn't even know what to do. For a horrified moment, he just stands where he is, gaping like a fish out of water, his eyes somewhat wild behind the thick frames he's worn his entire life, gaze shifting in disbelief from James to Scorpius and back again. His lips move, but no words come out. He is, quite literally, shocked stupid.

Scorpius, for his part, is up and on his feet in seconds, smoothing his clothes and muttering something about fatigue. He's so quick that he forgets how weird it must look when he uses the front door to leave and locks up after himself. And, Merlin, he left his ruined shirt on James's bed.

Blinking in a daze, Harry turns to the door, watching Scorpius go, and then back to his son, brows lifted. "...He's still in school," he says, the first and only thing that comes to mind.

James is openly struggling, a little lost as he tries to figure out what angle he should go for here. It's with stunned silence that he watches Scorpius leave, before he moves to sit heavily on the arm of his couch, reaching up to scrub his face with both hands. Despite the casualness of the way he's seated, though, his shoulders are set, posture nervous: it's clear that he's mentally preparing himself for a fight, and a big one at that.

"So was I six months ago," he counters, and there isn't nearly the fire in his voice that he'd hoped would be. It's faltering a little instead, actually.

"Yeah, well you're not the one who somehow managed to sneak off Hogwarts' property, which is against the law and I'm Head Auror and-" Harry faltered, frowning at James. "Has this been going on for six months?!"

Harry's head is spinning. And he knows, as part of his job, he should go after Malfoy and get the truth, but all he can concentrate on is his son. The look on James's face. The sound of his voice.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2 bc I am a horrible person.

2/2 ohgod i'm so sorry james

HAHA

no subject

no subject

no subject