Gift for the Comm!
Author: lilian_cho
Recipient: Everyone!
Title: Love Bites
Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius, implied past Harry/Draco
Summary: Albus asked inappropriate people for some sex advice. Scorpius received regular sweets delivery even though he didn't have a sweet tooth. It all came together in the end.
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Interview, what interview?
Word Count: 2300+ words
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This is more of a PG-13 warm fireplace instead of an R blazing inferno, but I hope you guys enjoy this nonetheless.
When Albus asked his older brother for some advice about sex, he didn't expect it to be quite this traumatizing. It was a well-known fact among the general population of Hogwarts that James Sirius Potter would shag anyone with pretty eyes and two legs, so who was better equipped to deal with Albus' recent homosexual crisis?
"...and that's why I think that I might be, um, gay."
"Back up, Albus. I'm glad you came to me for advice and all, but what made you think I'm some sort of gay sexpert?"
Albus rolled his eyes. "There was that thing with Carmichael-"
"It was truth or dare! Firewhiskeys were involved!"
"-and that one-and-a-half month with Smith."
"He has very pretty eyes," James said defensively. "Besides, he's so high maintenance he might as well have been a girl."
Albus folded his hands and looked at his brother gravely.
"One mutual hand job and five weeks of assisted orgasm did not turn me into an expert on gay sex, okay? I've done a lot more with the six girls I've dated."
Albus coughed something that might have been "slut."
James chose to ignore him. "Anyway, you're better off asking Dad."
"...what?"
For a split second, James’ expression could only be surmised as "Whoops," but it was quickly smoothed out into the usual nonchalant bravado.
"Do you remember the Cold War five, six years ago?"
"When Mom and Dad took separate vacations on their anniversary and we ended up staying with Rose and Hugo during summer hols?"
James nodded.
"What about it?"
"Well I overheard Uncle Ron ranting to Aunt Hermione that Dad was having an affair."
Albus had suspected that this was the case. He gave a short nod for his brother to continue.
"-an affair," James repeated, "with a man."
*******
Dear Scorpius,
I am glad to hear that your Potions marks have improved. You may not have a particular love for the subject, but a Potions NEWT is imperative for many career paths that you might choose in the future.
Your grandmother is well and sends you her love. Enclosed is a box of bon-bons from that French pastry shop she favors. I would have told her that you don’t have a sweet tooth, but no doubt the treat would be greatly appreciated by your pet Potter best friend.
In regards to your dilemma, I need not remind you of your obligations as a Malfoy. However, those obligations are years yet in the future, and there is no harm in partaking in some indulgences while you are enjoying your youth. If it is Potter, please spare me the details. In the past, I have also committed my own youthful dalliances (with discretion, of course).
Your loving father,
Draco Malfoy
P.S. Your mother asked me to tell you to write more often. She wanted to know if you will be inviting Potter to the garden party.
*******
So his plan to ask James for advice was a total wash. And since Albus would rather talk to Severus Snape’s painting than his father about the joys of gay sex, that left him with only one recourse. He’d have to consult the self-proclaimed fag hag of Slytherin.
"Let me get this straight-so to speak." Primrose Parkinson smirked.
Albus set his expression to long-suffering innocence, just in case this evoked the first stirrings of charity in her heart. Icebergs have been known to melt under the clueless Potter gaze (most often utilized by James to their Mom and Lily to their Dad). Icebergs? Have nothing on Primrose Parkinson.
"After a few disastrous kisses with the fairer sex and a groping session that left you hanging limp-" Parkinson said with unnecessary relish.
Albus winced.
"After those spectacular failures, you decided that you might be having it off with the wrong gender all along." She let out an evil cackle. "Oh Potter, just for being your amusing pathetic self, I will help you out!"
"Thanks. I think," he said dryly.
"So. Smith had a record of folding before the Potter charm."
"…I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer."
She gave him an unrepentant grin. "Does that mean we should take Carmichael off the list?"
Albus ran a hand over his face and muttered, "-hundreds of students at Hogwarts and my brother had to sleep with the two gay ones."
"Chin up," she patted his shoulder. "I have it on good authority that your brother had done nothing remotely sexual with my cousin."
Albus’ eyes turned very wide. Primrose absently noted that those lovely green eyes must be what suckered girls in, bad kisses notwithstanding.
Blushing hotly, he choked out, "Y-your cousin? Are we talking about the same cousin here?"
"I meant my twelve-year-old cousin who’s going to Durmstrang." She examined her nails. "Of course I’m talking about my very eligible gay cousin Scorpius!" She refrained from adding "you clueless berk."
Albus suddenly seemed to find her shoes remarkably interesting (She was proud to say that they were green, high-heeled, made out of dragon leather, and broke seven Hogwarts regulations).
"I-I didn’t know that Scorpius is gay."
"Did you tell Scorpius that you’re gay?"
Albus stared at the pointy ends of her shoes. "…no."
"Well there you have it," she said with an all-knowing tone.
*******
Dear Scorpius,
I understand the necessity of gauging your potential partner’s interest before launching a sexual crusade campaign. Regrettably, the use of an Obliviate is not sanctioned even in the face of rejection and broken friendships.
The box of chocolate with the golden leaves on them should help your campaign along. I’m sure your friend would appreciate one or two. That box with silver wrapping is not to be mistaken with the long box of chocolates that your grandmother enclosed for all your House mates.
I hope you and your friend will enjoy the treat.
Say hello to Primrose for me. Her father said that Potter (not your Potter, the eldest Potter) had been making eyes at her. I always thought that the youngest girl Potter is more of her type. Don’t tell your mother I said that.
Your loving father,
Draco Malfoy
A thin parchment folded in half fell out of the envelope. The writing was charmed to only be visible to its recipient.
Dear Scorpius,
Your father’s getting careless in his old age. Really, if he wanted to keep me out of his correspondence, he should ward against those with no Malfoy blood instead of those who are not Malfoys by name.
I wanted to assure you that the chocolates are perfectly safe and have no lasting effect. They’re nowhere as alarming as love potions-one or two will hardly have a noticeable effect. When you and your friend are done with your assignation, it might be amusing to leave the box out at the Common Room. Unless your House mates suffer from years of sexual repression (which, considering that they are Slytherins, I find highly unlikely), the situation should not devolve into an orgy. Although there was a rumor of this incident back in 1976-
Tell Albus I have his favourite pastries prepared for the garden party.
Love from mum,
Pansy Malfoy
P.S. What’s this about Primrose being a lesbian? Last I heard, she was a fag hag. I thought fag hags are supposed to be heterosexuals?
P.P.S. Oh, and don’t believe your father when he talked about his "youthful" dalliance. It was much more recent than that, although he did stop before you started at Hogwarts.
*******
When Scorpius Malfoy went up to his dorm room that evening, he was greeted with the sight of a giggling Albus, half-lounging on his bed. Now Scorpius had no problem with his best friend commandeering his bed ("Your pillows are so much fluffier than mine," a pouting Albus had told him once), but Albus’ drunken giggle and the nearly empty box of chocolate on his bed rang alarm bells in his head.
"Albus?" Scorpius approached his friend cautiously.
Albus licked his chocolate-y fingers with a blissful expression.
"Albus? How many of those chocolates did you eat?"
"Scorpius!" His friend turned and gave him a disarming grin. "I’m sorry your chocolates are almost gone. They’re just soo good. I did save three pieces for you!" He looked down and blinked at the open box. "Well-two and a half, actually."
"Okay," Scorpius said in what he hoped was a calming voice. He made a rapid calculation in his head. There were about twenty pieces in the box, which meant Albus had eaten almost nine times the recommended dose. Albus’ green eyes seemed brighter than usual, but he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to a potion high or a chocolate overdose.
"Don’t you think it’s hot for January? I wonder if they finally installed an extra fireplace in here." Albus tugged his tie off and pulled at his shirt, rumpling it even more than usual.
"The dungeon is cold as always, Albus. You might be coming down with a fever. I think you should go have a lie-down before it got any worse."
Scorpius gave a relieved sigh when Albus nodded happily along with his suggestion.
"I’ll even let you sleep in my bed because it’s more comfortable. Just don’t eat any more chocolate, alright? They might be bad for your-fever." He fluffed up his pillows and bent down to tuck Albus in.
Albus’ arm shot up and grabbed his tie. Looking decidedly less lethargic, his eyes flickered to Scorpius’ lips. "No good night kiss?"
After a moment’s hesitation, Scorpius leaned down and kissed his friend on the forehead. He was prepared to hightail it out of there, but Albus’ grip on his tie prevented his escape.
"A proper good night kiss," Albus chided. Before Scorpius could talk himself out of this bind, Albus angled his face and began his onslaught on Scorpius’ lips.
Kissing. Kissing is nice. Very nice. How could Felicia Whippet say that Albus gave her the worst kiss ever? Poor, deluded girl. Scorpius hummed as Albus’ tongue flickered insistently against his lips. He opened his mouth with a moan. If Albus changed his mind tomorrow, we could always laugh it off as a lapse in judgment. Mmm…his lips are so-
Scorpius’ trail of happy thoughts was derailed by a hand on his thigh. A hand that was inching surely toward his crotch without making any detours. His cock gave a happy twitch at the prospect of coming out to play.
"Mmph!"
Seconds after detaching himself from his best friend’s lips and questing fingers, Scorpius had fallen backward on the cold stone floor.
Albus made a keening noise of abandonment. Scorpius wisely did not look at his best friend’s face to avoid further temptation.
Standing up, he restlessly straightened his shirt and his mangled tie. "One proper good night kiss, stamped and delivered. So, um, good night Albus!" He ran out and locked himself in the bathroom before he could do more damage to six years of friendship.
*******
Dear blond prat,
Stop locking yourself in the bathroom. Your House mates did not appreciate going up all those stairs to use the public bathroom. It is part of my prefect duties to threaten you with Moaning Myrtle if you still refuse to come out. Doesn’t she mistake you for your Dad from time to time?
Your cousin and Prefect,
Primrose Parkinson
P.S. Also, Potter missed you terribly during the two hours and fifty-four minutes in which you two were not joined at the hips.
Another letter was slipped beneath the bathroom door. The writing looked like it was scrawled in agitation.
Scorpius,
Please don’t be mad at me!
Promise you won’t be mad? I only did it because I like you.
I promise I only ate two (and a half) pieces of that chocolate. The rest are safely locked up in your bedside drawer.
You remember how James once dated Elena Zabini? She told him (who subsequently told me) a story about her Dad, truth and dare, and a box of chocolates in the Slytherin dungeons.
When I saw that silver wrapped box on your nightstand, I hoped that maybe you liked me too were interested and just didn’t know how to approach me.
And then you came in and were so sweet and didn’t try to take advantage-and then you kissed back, and it was the most glorious moment of my life, Scorpius.
Please forgive me? And kiss me some more?
Your very contrite best friend,
Albus Severus
*******
Albus watched with trepidation as a much more sedate Scorpius stepped out of the bathroom twenty minutes later. Most of their dorm mates had gone to bed after grumbling about their long trek to the bathroom.
"…Scorpius?" He called out timidly.
Grey eyes turned to regard him for slow seconds. He was in the verge of babbling to ask for forgiveness when Scorpius let out a sigh and laid his head on Albus’ shoulder.
"Scorpius?" Albus gingerly wrapped his arms around his friend’s slumped shoulders.
"That was very mean of you, Albus." The blond’s voice was muffled in Albus’ shirt. "I felt so sick because I thought I was taking advantage-"
Albus rubbed his friend’s back soothingly. "I’m so sorry. Did you throw up in there?"
Scorpius leaned back and scrunched his nose. "No, you know how much I hate the taste of vomit."
Albus’ chest shook with quiet laughter. "Twice as much as your hatred of sweets, yes."
His friend huffed and went back to nuzzling his neck.
"So…are we good now?"
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Of course. What’s a laced box of chocolate or two in the face of six years of friendship?" Scorpius drawled. Albus could detect the tone of relief in his friend’s voice.
"And maybe-boyfriends?" Albus’ voice wavered at the last word.
Sharp teeth nipped at his collarbone. "I thought you’d never ask."
Albus shivered. He had to set up Parkinson on a date with his own sibling, but it was all worth it.
*******
Recipient: Everyone!
Title: Love Bites
Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius, implied past Harry/Draco
Summary: Albus asked inappropriate people for some sex advice. Scorpius received regular sweets delivery even though he didn't have a sweet tooth. It all came together in the end.
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Interview, what interview?
Word Count: 2300+ words
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This is more of a PG-13 warm fireplace instead of an R blazing inferno, but I hope you guys enjoy this nonetheless.
When Albus asked his older brother for some advice about sex, he didn't expect it to be quite this traumatizing. It was a well-known fact among the general population of Hogwarts that James Sirius Potter would shag anyone with pretty eyes and two legs, so who was better equipped to deal with Albus' recent homosexual crisis?
"...and that's why I think that I might be, um, gay."
"Back up, Albus. I'm glad you came to me for advice and all, but what made you think I'm some sort of gay sexpert?"
Albus rolled his eyes. "There was that thing with Carmichael-"
"It was truth or dare! Firewhiskeys were involved!"
"-and that one-and-a-half month with Smith."
"He has very pretty eyes," James said defensively. "Besides, he's so high maintenance he might as well have been a girl."
Albus folded his hands and looked at his brother gravely.
"One mutual hand job and five weeks of assisted orgasm did not turn me into an expert on gay sex, okay? I've done a lot more with the six girls I've dated."
Albus coughed something that might have been "slut."
James chose to ignore him. "Anyway, you're better off asking Dad."
"...what?"
For a split second, James’ expression could only be surmised as "Whoops," but it was quickly smoothed out into the usual nonchalant bravado.
"Do you remember the Cold War five, six years ago?"
"When Mom and Dad took separate vacations on their anniversary and we ended up staying with Rose and Hugo during summer hols?"
James nodded.
"What about it?"
"Well I overheard Uncle Ron ranting to Aunt Hermione that Dad was having an affair."
Albus had suspected that this was the case. He gave a short nod for his brother to continue.
"-an affair," James repeated, "with a man."
*******
Dear Scorpius,
I am glad to hear that your Potions marks have improved. You may not have a particular love for the subject, but a Potions NEWT is imperative for many career paths that you might choose in the future.
Your grandmother is well and sends you her love. Enclosed is a box of bon-bons from that French pastry shop she favors. I would have told her that you don’t have a sweet tooth, but no doubt the treat would be greatly appreciated by your pet Potter best friend.
In regards to your dilemma, I need not remind you of your obligations as a Malfoy. However, those obligations are years yet in the future, and there is no harm in partaking in some indulgences while you are enjoying your youth. If it is Potter, please spare me the details. In the past, I have also committed my own youthful dalliances (with discretion, of course).
Your loving father,
Draco Malfoy
P.S. Your mother asked me to tell you to write more often. She wanted to know if you will be inviting Potter to the garden party.
*******
So his plan to ask James for advice was a total wash. And since Albus would rather talk to Severus Snape’s painting than his father about the joys of gay sex, that left him with only one recourse. He’d have to consult the self-proclaimed fag hag of Slytherin.
"Let me get this straight-so to speak." Primrose Parkinson smirked.
Albus set his expression to long-suffering innocence, just in case this evoked the first stirrings of charity in her heart. Icebergs have been known to melt under the clueless Potter gaze (most often utilized by James to their Mom and Lily to their Dad). Icebergs? Have nothing on Primrose Parkinson.
"After a few disastrous kisses with the fairer sex and a groping session that left you hanging limp-" Parkinson said with unnecessary relish.
Albus winced.
"After those spectacular failures, you decided that you might be having it off with the wrong gender all along." She let out an evil cackle. "Oh Potter, just for being your amusing pathetic self, I will help you out!"
"Thanks. I think," he said dryly.
"So. Smith had a record of folding before the Potter charm."
"…I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer."
She gave him an unrepentant grin. "Does that mean we should take Carmichael off the list?"
Albus ran a hand over his face and muttered, "-hundreds of students at Hogwarts and my brother had to sleep with the two gay ones."
"Chin up," she patted his shoulder. "I have it on good authority that your brother had done nothing remotely sexual with my cousin."
Albus’ eyes turned very wide. Primrose absently noted that those lovely green eyes must be what suckered girls in, bad kisses notwithstanding.
Blushing hotly, he choked out, "Y-your cousin? Are we talking about the same cousin here?"
"I meant my twelve-year-old cousin who’s going to Durmstrang." She examined her nails. "Of course I’m talking about my very eligible gay cousin Scorpius!" She refrained from adding "you clueless berk."
Albus suddenly seemed to find her shoes remarkably interesting (She was proud to say that they were green, high-heeled, made out of dragon leather, and broke seven Hogwarts regulations).
"I-I didn’t know that Scorpius is gay."
"Did you tell Scorpius that you’re gay?"
Albus stared at the pointy ends of her shoes. "…no."
"Well there you have it," she said with an all-knowing tone.
*******
Dear Scorpius,
I understand the necessity of gauging your potential partner’s interest before launching a sexual crusade campaign. Regrettably, the use of an Obliviate is not sanctioned even in the face of rejection and broken friendships.
The box of chocolate with the golden leaves on them should help your campaign along. I’m sure your friend would appreciate one or two. That box with silver wrapping is not to be mistaken with the long box of chocolates that your grandmother enclosed for all your House mates.
I hope you and your friend will enjoy the treat.
Say hello to Primrose for me. Her father said that Potter (not your Potter, the eldest Potter) had been making eyes at her. I always thought that the youngest girl Potter is more of her type. Don’t tell your mother I said that.
Your loving father,
Draco Malfoy
A thin parchment folded in half fell out of the envelope. The writing was charmed to only be visible to its recipient.
Dear Scorpius,
Your father’s getting careless in his old age. Really, if he wanted to keep me out of his correspondence, he should ward against those with no Malfoy blood instead of those who are not Malfoys by name.
I wanted to assure you that the chocolates are perfectly safe and have no lasting effect. They’re nowhere as alarming as love potions-one or two will hardly have a noticeable effect. When you and your friend are done with your assignation, it might be amusing to leave the box out at the Common Room. Unless your House mates suffer from years of sexual repression (which, considering that they are Slytherins, I find highly unlikely), the situation should not devolve into an orgy. Although there was a rumor of this incident back in 1976-
Tell Albus I have his favourite pastries prepared for the garden party.
Love from mum,
Pansy Malfoy
P.S. What’s this about Primrose being a lesbian? Last I heard, she was a fag hag. I thought fag hags are supposed to be heterosexuals?
P.P.S. Oh, and don’t believe your father when he talked about his "youthful" dalliance. It was much more recent than that, although he did stop before you started at Hogwarts.
*******
When Scorpius Malfoy went up to his dorm room that evening, he was greeted with the sight of a giggling Albus, half-lounging on his bed. Now Scorpius had no problem with his best friend commandeering his bed ("Your pillows are so much fluffier than mine," a pouting Albus had told him once), but Albus’ drunken giggle and the nearly empty box of chocolate on his bed rang alarm bells in his head.
"Albus?" Scorpius approached his friend cautiously.
Albus licked his chocolate-y fingers with a blissful expression.
"Albus? How many of those chocolates did you eat?"
"Scorpius!" His friend turned and gave him a disarming grin. "I’m sorry your chocolates are almost gone. They’re just soo good. I did save three pieces for you!" He looked down and blinked at the open box. "Well-two and a half, actually."
"Okay," Scorpius said in what he hoped was a calming voice. He made a rapid calculation in his head. There were about twenty pieces in the box, which meant Albus had eaten almost nine times the recommended dose. Albus’ green eyes seemed brighter than usual, but he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to a potion high or a chocolate overdose.
"Don’t you think it’s hot for January? I wonder if they finally installed an extra fireplace in here." Albus tugged his tie off and pulled at his shirt, rumpling it even more than usual.
"The dungeon is cold as always, Albus. You might be coming down with a fever. I think you should go have a lie-down before it got any worse."
Scorpius gave a relieved sigh when Albus nodded happily along with his suggestion.
"I’ll even let you sleep in my bed because it’s more comfortable. Just don’t eat any more chocolate, alright? They might be bad for your-fever." He fluffed up his pillows and bent down to tuck Albus in.
Albus’ arm shot up and grabbed his tie. Looking decidedly less lethargic, his eyes flickered to Scorpius’ lips. "No good night kiss?"
After a moment’s hesitation, Scorpius leaned down and kissed his friend on the forehead. He was prepared to hightail it out of there, but Albus’ grip on his tie prevented his escape.
"A proper good night kiss," Albus chided. Before Scorpius could talk himself out of this bind, Albus angled his face and began his onslaught on Scorpius’ lips.
Kissing. Kissing is nice. Very nice. How could Felicia Whippet say that Albus gave her the worst kiss ever? Poor, deluded girl. Scorpius hummed as Albus’ tongue flickered insistently against his lips. He opened his mouth with a moan. If Albus changed his mind tomorrow, we could always laugh it off as a lapse in judgment. Mmm…his lips are so-
Scorpius’ trail of happy thoughts was derailed by a hand on his thigh. A hand that was inching surely toward his crotch without making any detours. His cock gave a happy twitch at the prospect of coming out to play.
"Mmph!"
Seconds after detaching himself from his best friend’s lips and questing fingers, Scorpius had fallen backward on the cold stone floor.
Albus made a keening noise of abandonment. Scorpius wisely did not look at his best friend’s face to avoid further temptation.
Standing up, he restlessly straightened his shirt and his mangled tie. "One proper good night kiss, stamped and delivered. So, um, good night Albus!" He ran out and locked himself in the bathroom before he could do more damage to six years of friendship.
*******
Dear blond prat,
Stop locking yourself in the bathroom. Your House mates did not appreciate going up all those stairs to use the public bathroom. It is part of my prefect duties to threaten you with Moaning Myrtle if you still refuse to come out. Doesn’t she mistake you for your Dad from time to time?
Your cousin and Prefect,
Primrose Parkinson
P.S. Also, Potter missed you terribly during the two hours and fifty-four minutes in which you two were not joined at the hips.
Another letter was slipped beneath the bathroom door. The writing looked like it was scrawled in agitation.
Scorpius,
Please don’t be mad at me!
Promise you won’t be mad? I only did it because I like you.
I promise I only ate two (and a half) pieces of that chocolate. The rest are safely locked up in your bedside drawer.
You remember how James once dated Elena Zabini? She told him (who subsequently told me) a story about her Dad, truth and dare, and a box of chocolates in the Slytherin dungeons.
When I saw that silver wrapped box on your nightstand, I hoped that maybe you liked me too were interested and just didn’t know how to approach me.
And then you came in and were so sweet and didn’t try to take advantage-and then you kissed back, and it was the most glorious moment of my life, Scorpius.
Please forgive me? And kiss me some more?
Your very contrite best friend,
Albus Severus
*******
Albus watched with trepidation as a much more sedate Scorpius stepped out of the bathroom twenty minutes later. Most of their dorm mates had gone to bed after grumbling about their long trek to the bathroom.
"…Scorpius?" He called out timidly.
Grey eyes turned to regard him for slow seconds. He was in the verge of babbling to ask for forgiveness when Scorpius let out a sigh and laid his head on Albus’ shoulder.
"Scorpius?" Albus gingerly wrapped his arms around his friend’s slumped shoulders.
"That was very mean of you, Albus." The blond’s voice was muffled in Albus’ shirt. "I felt so sick because I thought I was taking advantage-"
Albus rubbed his friend’s back soothingly. "I’m so sorry. Did you throw up in there?"
Scorpius leaned back and scrunched his nose. "No, you know how much I hate the taste of vomit."
Albus’ chest shook with quiet laughter. "Twice as much as your hatred of sweets, yes."
His friend huffed and went back to nuzzling his neck.
"So…are we good now?"
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Of course. What’s a laced box of chocolate or two in the face of six years of friendship?" Scorpius drawled. Albus could detect the tone of relief in his friend’s voice.
"And maybe-boyfriends?" Albus’ voice wavered at the last word.
Sharp teeth nipped at his collarbone. "I thought you’d never ask."
Albus shivered. He had to set up Parkinson on a date with his own sibling, but it was all worth it.
*******