Fic: 'Glitches and Snitches' AS/S PG13
Title: Glitches and Snitches
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: None, mistakes are mine alone
Characters/Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius, cameos from any and all
Length: ~1,400
Rating: PG13 for now
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings: A little swearing, UST
Summary: Al has a glittering Quidditch career - and halfway decent grades, hopefully - heading his way. If only Scorpius would stop crossing his path...
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #28 Blossom from my 100quills Next Generation Table
Written for Week Six of the ass_carnival, using all the prompts.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
"You preen more than Gilderoy Lockhart, you know that, right?"
Scorpius ignored Al's jibe, focussing instead on his reflection in the mirror. Though they had a flat the size of a Quidditch stadium, Al had returned home from his parents' intent on annoying Scorpius. Smoothing the last strand of hair into place, Scorpius stepped back and stared at himself critically. Inadvertently catching Al's eye in the mirror, Scorpius sneered. "Don't talk about people you only know through hearsay. Just because I check my appearance in a mirror before I leave, not one of those deadened black sheets on the building like you, doesn't make me vain. It makes me courteous."
"They're called solar panels, and the Muggles use them to make energy. It's sweet. And I don't check my reflection in them, because I don't need to see my own face every five minutes just to validate my existence. And why is being a vain git courteous?"
"Checking my appearance is courteous; it means I do not subject the rest of the world to untold horrors, like you do every time you show your face in direct sunlight." It wasn't the greatest comeback in the world, but it would do for now.
Al's face had twisted angrily, and he finally got up from Scorpius' bed. "Your mum."
If Scorpius' insult had been bad, Albus' was dire. Nonsensical, and the sort of retort the first-years used before you hexed them half to death and taught them a lesson. Though, as Al had now stormed out of his room, it left Scorpius free to lock the door and decide what he was going to wear. As he stripped out of his around-the-house robes, Scorpius told the little niggle of doubt in his head to shut up. For some reason, he felt dishonest, that he hadn't told Al he was going out tonight on a date. Not that Al had asked where he was going, or had any right to know, but Scorpius felt guilty all the same.
The sooner he went out on a few dates, and got over his crush on Albus, the better.
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Bored, Al picked up a couple of the magazines that were artfully spread across the coffee table in his living room, and headed towards the balcony. This was easily the best part of the entire flat. A little, enclosed slice of heaven that came off his bedroom, a sprawling balcony planted out to be a proper garden. Sunflowers grew in brightly-coloured pots, trailing plants draped over the edges, and the city was beautiful from this height, in the late evening light while the sun held out just a little bit longer, and the moon waited in the wings. Everything was blossoming, everything was in bloom, and it made Al feel hopeful.
The magazines were travel brochures, advertising the tropics and the Med, glossy pages promising exciting times. Al browsed idly, but nowhere caught his fancy. Besides, his mind was on Scorpius, and where Scorpius was. What Scorpius was doing. Who he was with. Mainly, who he was with.
They'd been sharing a flat for two weeks now, and though they truly didn't see that much of each other, considering they were living together, Al thought he could feel the ice slowly melting. He was sure that two weeks ago, Scorpius would have thrown Al out of his room, rather than let him stay and bicker with him. But then, maybe Scorpius was just humouring him.
Closing the magazine and tossing it onto the floor with the others, Al sprawled out in the chair and lifted his face up, closing his eyes and enjoying the warm sun on his face. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd given up on fighting his attraction to Scorpius, but it had happened. Now, instead of thinking of ways to shake off his crush on Scorpius, Al thought about ways to make it known, to take the risk of ridicule in the hopes that maybe Scorpius could be convinced to feel the same.
An old adage came to mind, something his grandma had told him whenever he had misbehaved as a child, and then wouldn't tell the truth about it. Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.
It wasn't as thought Al was in any rush, but he didn't think he could wait for the truth to out on its own. Besides, he was a grown man. If now wasn't a moment to take his courage in both hands, surreptitiously protect his bollocks, and make a move on Scorpius, then he didn't know when would be. There were no second chances in life, and all that other motivational bollocks that the Coach spouted at them on the pitch.
Standing up feeling energised and purposeful, Al decided on a shower before he went head-on at fate.
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Swatting Cormac back, Scorpius drew his wand and jabbed it at the keyhole in the lift, setting the lift in motion and leaning back against the rail. Immediately, Cormac was there with him, kissing his neck and whispering all kinds of filth. Truthfully, Scorpius found it a little desperate, a little cloying. But, it was keeping his mind off Al. Except for that thought.
And that one.
And the six hundred during dinner, which all began with Al wouldn't say/do/behave/flirt like Cormac. Scorpius was clearly ill; the last thing Al had said to him had been an insult, and yet Scorpius had been thinking about him all evening.
Refocusing his attention on Cormac, Scorpius realised Cormac had gone quiet, and clearly expected an answer to whatever he had just said. Scorpius hadn't been listening, but after their conversation that evening he could hazard a guess it had been sexually explicit and ever-so-slightly tasteless. "That's the way I like it."
Cormac smiled, and immediately resumed sliming his neck, so Scorpius figured his answer had been acceptable. Luckily, the lift binged and the doors slid open, giving Scorpius an excuse to disengage from Cormac's grip. His freedom didn't last long though; Cormac slid his arm around Scorpius' waist, holding him tight as they walked through the apartment.
Scorpius already regretted letting Cormac invite himself back, but when he heard footsteps slapping on the floorboards, Scorpius' regret only deepened. This would only give Al more ammunition against him, and make him look like a bigger prick in Al's eyes.
Scorpius looked up in time to see Al round the corner into the entrance hallway and stop dead. And then everything changed. Scorpius watched Al look at him, look at Cormac wrapped around him, and suddenly everything made sense. Scorpius watched Al's face fall, and knew that Al didn't think he was a prick. In fact, from the hurt that blossomed in Al's eyes just before he turned around and made a quick exit, Scorpius would wager Al felt about him exactly what he felt about Al, if not more.
"Merlin, your roommate is weird. Can we go to bed now?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose we should."
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Peeling back the skin of the banana, Al looked at it for a long moment before he tossed it in the bin. He wasn't hungry, even though he knew he should eat. Truthfully, he'd been awake all night, trying to get the image of Scorpius and Cormac fucking out of his mind. Thank Merlin the flat was so big, otherwise he'd have had to listen to it, and that would have flown Al straight into madness.
Finishing off his cup of coffee, Al was planning to slink off to work early and try and work out some of his feelings on the pitch, but his plan was spannered royally when the door to Scorpius' suite opened, and Cormac staggered out. Wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, skin still damp from the shower. Half - no, three-quarters - naked, in broad daylight, in Al's home.
Al's blood boiled.
"Morning. Did I smell coffee?"
Silently, Al stood up and took the jug off the hotplate on the coffee maker. Meeting Cormac's stupid blue eyes, Al tipped his hand and poured the coffee down the sink. When the jug was empty, he set it back on the hotplate and headed towards the lift. It didn't matter that his kit was in his room; he could use his spare set. All that mattered was getting as far away from Cormac - and Scorpius - as was humanly possible.
Chapter Seven
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: None, mistakes are mine alone
Characters/Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius, cameos from any and all
Length: ~1,400
Rating: PG13 for now
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings: A little swearing, UST
Summary: Al has a glittering Quidditch career - and halfway decent grades, hopefully - heading his way. If only Scorpius would stop crossing his path...
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #28 Blossom from my 100quills Next Generation Table
Written for Week Six of the ass_carnival, using all the prompts.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
"You preen more than Gilderoy Lockhart, you know that, right?"
Scorpius ignored Al's jibe, focussing instead on his reflection in the mirror. Though they had a flat the size of a Quidditch stadium, Al had returned home from his parents' intent on annoying Scorpius. Smoothing the last strand of hair into place, Scorpius stepped back and stared at himself critically. Inadvertently catching Al's eye in the mirror, Scorpius sneered. "Don't talk about people you only know through hearsay. Just because I check my appearance in a mirror before I leave, not one of those deadened black sheets on the building like you, doesn't make me vain. It makes me courteous."
"They're called solar panels, and the Muggles use them to make energy. It's sweet. And I don't check my reflection in them, because I don't need to see my own face every five minutes just to validate my existence. And why is being a vain git courteous?"
"Checking my appearance is courteous; it means I do not subject the rest of the world to untold horrors, like you do every time you show your face in direct sunlight." It wasn't the greatest comeback in the world, but it would do for now.
Al's face had twisted angrily, and he finally got up from Scorpius' bed. "Your mum."
If Scorpius' insult had been bad, Albus' was dire. Nonsensical, and the sort of retort the first-years used before you hexed them half to death and taught them a lesson. Though, as Al had now stormed out of his room, it left Scorpius free to lock the door and decide what he was going to wear. As he stripped out of his around-the-house robes, Scorpius told the little niggle of doubt in his head to shut up. For some reason, he felt dishonest, that he hadn't told Al he was going out tonight on a date. Not that Al had asked where he was going, or had any right to know, but Scorpius felt guilty all the same.
The sooner he went out on a few dates, and got over his crush on Albus, the better.
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Bored, Al picked up a couple of the magazines that were artfully spread across the coffee table in his living room, and headed towards the balcony. This was easily the best part of the entire flat. A little, enclosed slice of heaven that came off his bedroom, a sprawling balcony planted out to be a proper garden. Sunflowers grew in brightly-coloured pots, trailing plants draped over the edges, and the city was beautiful from this height, in the late evening light while the sun held out just a little bit longer, and the moon waited in the wings. Everything was blossoming, everything was in bloom, and it made Al feel hopeful.
The magazines were travel brochures, advertising the tropics and the Med, glossy pages promising exciting times. Al browsed idly, but nowhere caught his fancy. Besides, his mind was on Scorpius, and where Scorpius was. What Scorpius was doing. Who he was with. Mainly, who he was with.
They'd been sharing a flat for two weeks now, and though they truly didn't see that much of each other, considering they were living together, Al thought he could feel the ice slowly melting. He was sure that two weeks ago, Scorpius would have thrown Al out of his room, rather than let him stay and bicker with him. But then, maybe Scorpius was just humouring him.
Closing the magazine and tossing it onto the floor with the others, Al sprawled out in the chair and lifted his face up, closing his eyes and enjoying the warm sun on his face. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd given up on fighting his attraction to Scorpius, but it had happened. Now, instead of thinking of ways to shake off his crush on Scorpius, Al thought about ways to make it known, to take the risk of ridicule in the hopes that maybe Scorpius could be convinced to feel the same.
An old adage came to mind, something his grandma had told him whenever he had misbehaved as a child, and then wouldn't tell the truth about it. Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.
It wasn't as thought Al was in any rush, but he didn't think he could wait for the truth to out on its own. Besides, he was a grown man. If now wasn't a moment to take his courage in both hands, surreptitiously protect his bollocks, and make a move on Scorpius, then he didn't know when would be. There were no second chances in life, and all that other motivational bollocks that the Coach spouted at them on the pitch.
Standing up feeling energised and purposeful, Al decided on a shower before he went head-on at fate.
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Swatting Cormac back, Scorpius drew his wand and jabbed it at the keyhole in the lift, setting the lift in motion and leaning back against the rail. Immediately, Cormac was there with him, kissing his neck and whispering all kinds of filth. Truthfully, Scorpius found it a little desperate, a little cloying. But, it was keeping his mind off Al. Except for that thought.
And that one.
And the six hundred during dinner, which all began with Al wouldn't say/do/behave/flirt like Cormac. Scorpius was clearly ill; the last thing Al had said to him had been an insult, and yet Scorpius had been thinking about him all evening.
Refocusing his attention on Cormac, Scorpius realised Cormac had gone quiet, and clearly expected an answer to whatever he had just said. Scorpius hadn't been listening, but after their conversation that evening he could hazard a guess it had been sexually explicit and ever-so-slightly tasteless. "That's the way I like it."
Cormac smiled, and immediately resumed sliming his neck, so Scorpius figured his answer had been acceptable. Luckily, the lift binged and the doors slid open, giving Scorpius an excuse to disengage from Cormac's grip. His freedom didn't last long though; Cormac slid his arm around Scorpius' waist, holding him tight as they walked through the apartment.
Scorpius already regretted letting Cormac invite himself back, but when he heard footsteps slapping on the floorboards, Scorpius' regret only deepened. This would only give Al more ammunition against him, and make him look like a bigger prick in Al's eyes.
Scorpius looked up in time to see Al round the corner into the entrance hallway and stop dead. And then everything changed. Scorpius watched Al look at him, look at Cormac wrapped around him, and suddenly everything made sense. Scorpius watched Al's face fall, and knew that Al didn't think he was a prick. In fact, from the hurt that blossomed in Al's eyes just before he turned around and made a quick exit, Scorpius would wager Al felt about him exactly what he felt about Al, if not more.
"Merlin, your roommate is weird. Can we go to bed now?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose we should."
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Peeling back the skin of the banana, Al looked at it for a long moment before he tossed it in the bin. He wasn't hungry, even though he knew he should eat. Truthfully, he'd been awake all night, trying to get the image of Scorpius and Cormac fucking out of his mind. Thank Merlin the flat was so big, otherwise he'd have had to listen to it, and that would have flown Al straight into madness.
Finishing off his cup of coffee, Al was planning to slink off to work early and try and work out some of his feelings on the pitch, but his plan was spannered royally when the door to Scorpius' suite opened, and Cormac staggered out. Wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, skin still damp from the shower. Half - no, three-quarters - naked, in broad daylight, in Al's home.
Al's blood boiled.
"Morning. Did I smell coffee?"
Silently, Al stood up and took the jug off the hotplate on the coffee maker. Meeting Cormac's stupid blue eyes, Al tipped his hand and poured the coffee down the sink. When the jug was empty, he set it back on the hotplate and headed towards the lift. It didn't matter that his kit was in his room; he could use his spare set. All that mattered was getting as far away from Cormac - and Scorpius - as was humanly possible.
Chapter Seven