Scorpius Malfoy was reclining on his bed, deeply immersed in a Potions textbook for sixth-years. The fact that he’d only just started his fifth year at Hogwarts didn’t seem to faze him much. Albus Potter was lying stomach down beside him, deeply immersed in a Quidditch magazine.
One of their house mates burst through the door with a dazed look of extreme happiness on his face.
“She kissed me!” he sang, flopping down onto his bed, gazing dreamily at the canopy. “She even used tongue!”
Albus looked at his house mate across Scorpius’ stomach. “Did she really?”
“Yes!” The other boy sat up and started describing the whole incident with fervent ardour. “It was heavenly,” he sighed happily. “She even let me keep her chewing gum!”
At this bit of information Scorpius frowned slightly, but he kept reading.
“That’s – that’s good, mate, well done,” Albus said, briefly wondering why on earth one would want to keep someone’s chewed up chewing gum. Although, thinking of it, if it had been Scorpius’ chewing gum, maybe he wouldn’t have been so avert to the idea –
His stream of thoughts had been cut off by the look of pure horror on his mate’s face. “I’ll be – right back, guys – uh – see you later,” he stuttered and bolted out of the room.
“Forgot to ask her on a proper date, did he?” Scorpius asked unaffectedly.
“I think so.” Albus shrugged and continued reading his Quidditch magazine.
“I’ve been thinking about this whole – sex thing,” Scorpius said, not looking up from his book. Albus noticed he wasn’t reading it anymore; his eyes were fixed on the same spot on the same page.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that,” he cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening slightly, “that it’s – gross. And that I’m not going to take part in it. Ever.”
Albus gulped. “Er, what?”
Scorpius drew in a breath and looked up, meeting Albus’ eyes. “What I’m saying, Al, is that I’ve decided I’m an asexual.”
Al stared at him. “What’s an, uhm, asexual?” Scorpius handed him a sheet of paper, one he had apparently been reading under cover of the Potions textbook. It turned out to have been torn out of a different book altogether.
“Don’t give me that look, Al, I intend to return the page,” Scorpius said long-sufferingly and Al read it.
“Uhm, Score, are you absolutely sure?” he eventually said, staring at the page.
“Yes, in fact. I’m always sure.” Scorpius took the sheet back. “I have absolutely no desire to engage in lewd activities involving excessive bodily contact and exchange of fluids. It’s utterly disgusting.”
And with those final words, he returned to his Potions textbook and Al was left wondering why the world hated him so.
“It is beyond me why those perverts think it’s completely acceptable to eat each other’s tonsils right in front of our compartment,” Score growled, staring murderously at the couple that was currently snogging outside in the hallway.
“Well, we are getting closer to London...reckon they want to say proper goodbye or something, where their parents won’t see,” Al offered.
“Hmpf.” Score glared at the window in the compartment door and crossed his arms.
“You don’t find kissing just a little bit appealing?” Al asked. Score snorted. “Not even with closed mouth?”
The way Scorpius’ lips tightened was answer enough for Al, who dropped the subject immediately.
After dropping Score off by the floo, Al went to his father’s study.
“Hi dad,” he said, lingering in the doorway. “Score just left.”
His dad looked up distractedly. “Oh? Oh... too bad...” he looked down at his papers, frowning.
“Dad, do you think if someone is asexual they might stop being it at some point?” Al asked. His dad gaped.
“Uhm, I don’t know, Al, that’s a strange question...” he frowned again. “Do you think you are asexual?”
“No! No, I was just, uhm, wondering, that’s all...”
“Oh. Well, I suppose it depends on why they are asexual, though I’m pretty sure you can’t just change things like that...” his dad trailed off. “Why don’t you ask your mother?”
James put his head into the study. “Still got your hopes up for Score, then, Al?” he asked.
“Shut up, Jamie,” Al muttered and left the study. Their dad looked at James for answers, but James just shrugged and left.
Harry shook his head and then went back to his papers.
Al was absolutely not surprised that Score had started on the seventh-year Potions textbook already, although they’d only been sixth-years for a few weeks. He wondered what he’d do when they became seventh-years.
He glanced up at Score from where he was lying, head in his lap, and reckoned that he’d probably get hold of Potions textbooks that were used at university or something.
“What is it, Al?” Score asked and Al realised he’d been staring for longer than was appropriate.
“Nothing...just, uhm, thinking.”
“And what were you thinking about that had you staring at me for six minutes and forty seconds?”
Al blushed. “Just wondering, uhm, do you wank?” he blurted out. “I mean – since you’re an asexual and all – I was just, uhm, do you do that at all?”
He wondered where the blow he was waiting for had gone off to. Surely Score had every right to hit him now.
“It’s a bit messy, isn’t it,” Score stated dryly. “No, I do not.”
“Have you – have you tried?”
Scorpius Malfoy was possibly the only boy in the whole of Hogwarts, who at sixteen, hadn’t even wanked once.
“Oh. Whoa.” Al mulled that over.
“Tell me something, Al,” Score then said, looking up from his book. “All our dorm mates have girlfriends. Why don’t you?”
“I, uhm...” Al shrugged, blushing again. Score gave him a contemplative look.
“In fact, you haven’t dated anyone at all...would you perchance be like me?”
“Uhm, no, actually I’m quite sure I’m not asexual,” Al blubbered. “I want to have sex eventually, lots of it, with someone I care about, you know, and kissing and stuff. I like those things – well, I think I like those things, I haven’t actually – oh sod it, and stop laughing at me!”
Score wasn’t actually laughing; he was smiling and there was a twinkle in his eyes, but in his books that was as good as laughing.
“I’m not laughing at you, Al. You’re cute, you know that?” He petted Al’s cheek and then returned to his book.
Al huffed and went back to his Quidditch magazine.
“Albus Potter, you are not serious.” Score stared at the green thing on his bed. “I’m not wearing that. Couldn’t you have found a costume a bit more – dignified?”
“Oh come off it, Score. With you dressed up as a cactus no one’s going to go near you, least of all the girls you ran from last week,” Al grinned. “If I hadn’t been your best friend, I’d have laughed and laughed and laughed for eternity.”
“You still laughed,” Score pointed out. “And it’s not funny. They asked me on a date. Ugh. And then they tried to kiss me! Both of them!” He flailed, a look of disgust mixed with horror written all over his face.
“My point still stands. Cactus. No one will go near you and you’ll be left blissfully alone.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right.” Score sighed, poking the green thing tentatively with his wand. “I’ve been thinking again, Al, and the thing is, I’d very much like to be romantically involved with someone...just without the sordid stuff.”
“Really?” Al asked, mouth dry. “Ehrm, do you, uhm, have anyone in mind?”
“No,” Score answered loftily. “I’m trying to figure out whether I’m biromantic , heteroromantic or homoromantic, and before I’ve figured that out, I can’t really pick someone to unleash my affections upon, can I?”
“Uh, sure,” Al replied lamely. “What’s, uhm, biromantic and all the rest?”
“Oh, you know, it’s like bisexual or homosexual, just without the sex part. Only feelings. It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” Score beamed.
“Yes.” All nodded, hoping against hope. “So, uhm, are you wearing the cactus to Halloween or not?”
“What are you wearing?”
Al pointed at an identical green mess on his own bed.
“Well, I suppose if you’re also going as a cactus, it won’t hurt,” Score mused. “Cactus it is, then.”
Score blew a strand of hair out of his eyes and Al caught it, tucking it behind his ear.
“You need a haircut,” he remarked. “You’ve been getting your hair in your eyes for the past three weeks.”
“I’m letting it grow!” Score interjected. “It’s going to be long and dazzling and billowing.”
Al smiled. “You’re such a girl about your hair, Score.”
“Am not. I take better care of my hair than a girl. It’s healthy and soft and shiny, not all split ends and dry and constantly pulled into ponytails or braids or other silly things.”
“Whatever you say.” Al kept smiling and reading his Quidditch magazine. Every once in a while the same strand of hair would fall into Score’s eyes and Al would tuck it away again.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Score asked. His voice wavered slightly.
Al spluttered. “What?” He stared at his friend, at his head rested against his side and took in the fact that his fingers weren’t moving to flick the pages in his book anymore. “Are you serious?”
“Well, yes,” Score replied uncertainly. “Though if you don’t want to, it’s all right.”
“I thought you wanted to figure out whether you were biromantic or something first,” Al said lamely.
“I’m not biromantic or heteroromantic,” Score stated firmly. “Girls scare the living shit out of me, using your crude language.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Oh. Oh yes, uhm, okay.” Al faltered. “Yes.”
“Yes to answering my question or yes you want to be my boyfriend?” Score looked up now and Al saw he was still wary, still hesitant.
“Yes, I want to be your boyfriend,” Al answered softly. Then he smiled, his stomach full of very happy butterflies.
“Oh. Good.” Score smiled back. “Brilliant.”
“Can I kiss you?” Al then asked. Score frowned, looking almost hurt. “I meant on the cheek...” He blushed, shrugging awkwardly. He hadn’t really meant the other thing.
“I suppose you can,” Score answered slowly. “If we can snuggle afterwards.”
“We can snuggle any time you want,” Al grinned and quickly leaned down to kiss Score’s – his boyfriend’s – cheek.
It took four minutes of awkward shuffling on Score’s bed before they found a way to cosy up and read at the same time.
Score’s father popped by the door to his bedroom to see how the boys were doing. They were curled up on the bed together, reading, as was their wont.
“Hi Dad. Al’s my boyfriend now,” Score announced matter-of-factly. Al blushed. Draco stared.
“I thought you said...?” he said uncertainly.
“Oh, I’m still asexual,” Score replied dismissively. He paused to think, then scrunched up his nose. “Yes, definitely.”
Draco walked back down the hall, completely dazed and wondering how on earth Scorpius could be his son.
Al was lying upside down on the sofa with James, watching a documentary about cars – much to the chagrin of Lily, who wanted to watch some braindead series about pretty teenagers.
“At least budge over a bit?” She pushed him, but he didn’t move.
“Not at all. Go find somewhere else to sit.”
“How can you even watch it upside down?”
“I just can.”
“Why are you so pissy?”
“I’m not,” Al muttered.
“Oh, he is,” James said, poking his leg. “He’s sexually frustrated.”
“I’m not sexually frustrated!”
“Why are you sexually frustrated?” Lily asked. Their father chose that moment to enter the living room but the three of them paid him no attention.
“I’m not sexually frustrated, Lily, and you, James, are going to shut up or –”
“Of course he’s sexually frustrated,” James said offhandedly. “Al’s not getting laid because his boyfriend is asexual, you know.”
“James!” Al kicked him.
“Al?” Harry asked at the same as Lily asked “Score Malfoy is asexual?”
“Boyfriend?” their father then said. “Score Malfoy?”
Al stopped kicking James in favour of turning his attention towards his father. “Oh. Uhm, hi dad. I’m gay. Can I go back to kicking James? Thanks.” He turned towards James again, but James had slid away and was now standing on the other side of Lily, using her as a shield.
“Al, how long have you, uhm, who’s, uhm...”
“I’ve been with Score since the Christmas holidays,” Al admitted grudgingly. “Though you need not fear for my virtue because, as James was bellowing all over the place, Score’s asexual, so we’re not doing anything.” He glared at James. “But I’m not sexually frustrated!”
“But Al, you –”
“Enough, James. Leave your brother alone. Al, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Al muttered as he got off the sofa. “I’m gay, I’m seeing Score, end of story.”
His dad put a hand on his shoulder and steered him into the study, closing the door behind him. “Al, I just wanted to say, uhm, I’m proud of you and, uhm, you should know that it doesn’t matter, er, that you’re, uhm, gay and that, uhm, you’re with Score, he’s a, uhm, decent kid, and, uhm...”
“Oh, okay, uhm...thanks...” Al squirmed. “Thanks dad. Can I please go kick James now?”
“No. Okay maybe a little bit.” His dad gave him a funny look. “Er, is Score really asexual?”
“Yes,” Al sighed.
“And you’re really...uhm...not...?”
“Yes, dad, we’re really not. He doesn’t want it, so.” Al shrugged.
“Oh. Uhm, well... oh, go kick your brother.” His dad made a face and waved him off awkwardly. Al bolted out the door.
“Jamie!” he yelled. “I’M GOING TO KICK YOU NOW AND DAD SAID I COULD!”
“Merlin, Al, can’t you two get a room?” James chided, but there was amusement in his eyes. Al ignored him and only tightened his arms around Score.
“Can’t stand the sight of pure, romantic friendship, brother dear?” he asked, resting his chin on Score’s shoulder. Score was blushing, he knew, he could see the red on his cheeks and he could feel how he’d tensed. Al slipped one hand a little lower, smoothing over his stomach to curl around his side, and squeezed. “Don’t listen to Jamie. His stupidity can’t be cured.”
“Oh come off it, Al. I was just teasing you.” James rolled his eyes. “What are you doing up here anyway?”
“We’re in the astronomy tower, what do you think?” This time Al rolled his eyes. James stared at him.
“Having sex?” he asked incredulously. “That’s what people do up here, you know.”
Score looked down. He’d tensed again. “We were stargazing, if you must know,” he muttered. Al squeezed him again, furious at James now.
“Sod off, James,” he snapped. “We came up here to get away from insensitive bastards like you, actually, and if you don’t want me to punch your face in, you –”
“Calm down!” James had taken a step back and raised his hands. “Merlin, Al! I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t know it was a sore topic. I was just teasing – anyway, I was looking for you and Lily said you might be here. Mum and Dad owled, said they want to book us a holiday in Italy for the summer, and they want to know if Score’s coming along.” At this James looked at Score. “Are you coming?”
Score hesitated and Al glared at James.
“All right, I promise I won’t tease you, so, are you coming?” James asked impatiently. Score nodded. “Cool. I’ll tell Mum and Dad. See you around.” And with those words, James disappeared down the stairs and out of view.
“I’ll punch James if he says anything again,” Al promised and buried his face in his boyfriend’s hair.
“Sure.” Score sighed, sagging back against Al. “Al...why’d you say ‘romantic friendship’ and not ‘platonic love’?”
“Uhm...” Al frowned, resting his chin on Score’s shoulder again. “Well, if I’d said platonic love I suppose I’d have been implying that I only loved you as a friend or a brother, which is more like...me and James, though most of the time I’d say platonic hate rather than love...anyway, romantic friendship means there’s actual romantic love feelings, but because we leave out the sex part and because we’ve been best friends forever, I thought it was more appropriate...”
“Oh,” answered Score. “So...you love me?”
“Of course.” Al was surprised. “Of course I love you.”
“No, I mean, love love, not like, ‘sure thing, mate’.”
“Oh. Uhm, yeah. Love love,” Al confirmed. Score leaned his head against Al’s.
“Good. Because I do too, you know.”
Al smiled and squeezed him again. “I’m glad to know.”
Score was quiet for a while. “You know, if you want to, I’ll let you kiss me.”
“You can kiss me,” Score repeated, disentangling himself from Al and turning to face him. “If you want.” He closed his eyes and pursed his lips awkwardly, frowning. If anything, he looked uneasy. Al stared at him for what seemed like forever, utterly stunned. He then smiled, and brought up his hand to cup Score’s cheek.
“Hey, open your eyes,” he said softly. Score looked at him then, and Al registered a fleeting look of fear in his eyes. “Do you want me to kiss you? Be honest.”
Score looked him straight in the eye, then shook his head slightly. “No,” he said in a small voice. “But I know you want to.”
“I don’t want to if you don’t. Really. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or something.”
“It’s all right,” Al said. Score looked down, nodding almost unnoticeably, and suddenly Al understood something. “It’s not – it’s not because of James, is it?”
“What?” Score’s head whipped up.
“I mean, what he said, what other people say about us? You know, they say we’re weird because we don’t do these things and all? It’s not, it’s not because of that, is it? Because that’s just, that’s silly, you know, they don’t decide and anyway we don’t have to, it’s all right, really, or I wouldn’t, you know, because I like – because I love you, you know and –”
“Al,” Score said firmly, a pleased smile on his lips now. “Shut up, for the love of all things good.”
“Oh. Uhm. All right.”
Score stepped into his embrace and kissed his cheek. “You should really practice this thing called ‘thinking before speaking’ or at least learn to structure your words a little better.”
“I, I guess so.”
“Al, could you give me a hand with my broom?”
Al looked up at his brother. “Huh?”
James rolled his eyes. “My broom. A hand?”
“Oh.” Al glanced at Score, but found he had dozed off. He renewed the sunblock spell on him, just in case, and then got up. “Sure thing. What’s up with it?”
“The brakes are acting up and the user manual doesn’t say much...but you know how to fix it, right?” James led him up to the terrace of the house they’d rented. “Dad says he doesn’t know either, but then that was to be expected...” James rolled his eyes and Al grinned.
“Yeah. Well, let me have a look at it.”
They crouched down to look at the broom. Al put a few error finding spells on it, but nothing showed up.
“Hm. Are you sure there’s something wrong with it?”
“Yeah...” James shrugged, looking down at the beach. Score was still passed out on the blanket he’d been sharing with Al, and Lily was dipping her toes in the water with James’ girlfriend. “How can you stand it?”
“Stand what?” Al looked up from another series of error finding spells. “Being your brother? I don’t know, James, it’s a constant pain.”
“Shut up.” James pushed him. “No, I meant, well...he doesn’t even let you kiss him! How can you stand it? I mean, I’m all over my girlfriend whenever I get the chance, and you, you just sit there and don’t do anything and I don’t know how you can stand it...”
Al stared at him. “Uh, well...” He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking, and managing to mess it up more.
“I mean, I’m not blind and even I can see that he’s a pretty good looking guy, and he’s pretty fit too, so I think if I were gay I’d hit that big time, but you just... “ James flailed frustratedly.
“Words are really your forte, aren’t they, Jamie,” Al deadpanned. James snorted and Al smiled; they both knew words weren’t their forte at all. “No well...I...I do want to do...things, it’s just...” Al paused. “He really doesn’t like the stuff. He gets all twitchy and uneasy and skittish and you know, I don’t want to make him do stuff he doesn’t like, you know?”
“Anyway, it’s not like we’re not close.” Al shrugged, and when James gave him an odd look, he continued. “Have you ever had a proper snuggle with your girlfriend? I mean, just sat with her in your arms and smelled her hair and maybe...it’s really nice, you know. You can just enjoy the closeness and all.”
James frowned. “I don’t think...well I have, but only because I wanted to get into her pants.”
“I see,” Al stated dryly. “Try it once without that part and see if you don’t like it.”
“I don’t think I can,” James whined. “I’d just want to kiss her and touch her and stuff.”
Al rolled his eyes. “Well, I do that too, you know. Score likes it when I kiss his neck or nuzzle a bit. And I always put my hands on his stomach like this, to hold him close.” Al demonstrated on himself. “It’s nice. He does the same to me.”
“Hm.” James wasn’t completely convinced. “I still don’t understand it.”
“Long showers,” was all Al was willing to say about that subject, giving James’ broom a critical look. “I really can’t find anything wrong with your broom. Have someone look at it when we get back home.”
“Oh...right, thanks.” James took his broom back. “You’re a fool, Al, you know that? Sticking to someone who doesn’t give you anything.”
“You don’t know anything, Jamie. Really, you don’t.”
“So it’s love, is it, then?” James’ eyes sparkled teasingly. Al just smiled and pushed his brother once more before he went back to his boyfriend.
Al was awakened by someone slipping into his bed and pushing up against his back, arm wrapping around him and face nuzzling against his neck.
“Mmh...Score...we’re at school, you can’t sleep in my bed while we’re here,” Al mumbled sleepily. Score tensed.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, already unfurling himself.
“No, don’t go.” Al stopped him, pulling his arm around himself again and sighing contentedly. “We just never do this at school, that’s all.”
“I...I missed you,” Score admitted softly, shuffling closer again and burying his nose in Al’s hair.
“I was right here.”
Al had nearly fallen asleep again when Score moved.
“Al?” he whispered. Al shifted onto his back sleepily, bringing up one hand to touch Score’s hair.
“Hm?” He hadn’t really opened his eyes and Score smiled nervously.
“I –” he paused and then scrambled up onto his elbow. Al’s eyes slid open a tiny bit, but the darkness prevented him from seeing anything.
Score bit his lip hesitantly, then, before losing his nerve, leaned down and pressed his lips against Al’s.
Al’s eyes flew open.
“That wasn’t – that wasn’t too bad,” Score said, hovering close. Al shook his head, incredulous.
“Why’d you do that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“I wanted to see what the fuss was all about...” Score glanced at Al’s lips. “And...I wanted to, just a little bit.”
“You...wanted to?” Al asked, a delighted smile tugging at his lips. His boyfriend shrugged helplessly and then burrowed down under the covers again, resting his head on the pillow. He picked at a loose thread on his pyjamas.
“Yes, I wanted to...I...I don’t know.” He shrugged again.
“I thought you didn’t want to do things like that?”
Score shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about the kissing thing for a while. And it’s...it’s not bad.”
Al shifted until he was on his side, face to face with Scorpius and so close their noses almost touched.
“Not really?” Al chuckled. Score smiled weakly.
“I didn’t really get much of a try...” he trailed off nervously.
“Would you like another one?”
“Can I have another one?”
“Of course.” Al grinned. Score smiled again, then leaned closer awkwardly, bumping their noses together. They giggled breathlessly, then tried again. This time their lips met in a soft and tentative kiss, lingering and exhilarating. “How’s that?” Al eventually asked, feeling incredibly giddy. From the looks of it, Score was feeling much the same.
“That was...good,” he murmured shyly. He touched Al’s cheek. “I think I’d like if we did that some more.”
“Yeah.” Score smiled, then scrunched up his nose. “Except maybe in front of other people. That’s pretty...barbaric.”
Al laughed. “All right, not in front of other people.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Are you...will you stay here tonight?”
“Yes. I don’t much feel like going back to my own bed...it’s got to be cold by now.”
“You do realise we’ve only been back at school for two days, right?”
“I know.” Score smiled. “But I’ve spent the whole summer sleeping with you next to me. I miss it.”
“Our dorm mates probably aren’t going to be happy about it,” Al reasoned, but he was smiling.
Score snorted. “As if they care. We’ve been snuggling since first year and they haven’t complained yet. I don’t believe for one second they’ll care if we sleep together as well.”
And it turned out, they didn’t.
After a whole month of no complaints from their dorm mates, one morning they finally got one.
Scorpius had woken up early, for a change, only to discover that his dick was rock hard and nestled against Al’s hip.
The shriek that he’d let out had instantly roused every single boy from sleep in the dormitory.
“What’s up?” Al asked sleepily, blinking at his boyfriend. Score scrambled away, sitting up against the headboard and pulling the covers up to his chin. This whole tirade was accompanied with a look of absolute horror on his face.
“I,” he spluttered, eyes wide. If possible, his fingers clutched the duvet harder.
“What’s wrong?” Al asked, now definitely awake. “What happened?”
“That happened!” Score hissed, pointing at the tent in Al’s pyjama bottoms. Al frowned.
“But that happens pretty much every morning, Score. It’s never been an issue before –”
“Not you, me! Me!” Score flailed.
“Oh,” Al said lamely. “Well, uhm, it’s pretty normal –”
“Yes, for you it’s normal!” Score snapped. “You, you are a sexual person! I’m not! I’m asexual! My body is – it’s mutinying against me!”
Al tried very hard not to laugh, as his boyfriend looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Said boyfriend peeked a look under the duvet, gasped in terror and clutched it to his chin again. “How do I make it go away?”
“Uhm, well, there are three ways,” Al said, trying to be reasonable. “The first is, uhm, the best way, really, like, uh, you take care of it...”
“Take care of it? Like – oh sweet Circe no, you don’t mean wank do you?”
If Score hadn’t been completely horrified before, he was now.
“Okay so, the second way is to wait for it to go away,” Al said hurriedly. “It might take a while though.”
“The third! What’s the third?”
“Er, uhm, a freezing charm or a cold shower or similar...it can be, uhm, a bit painful.”
“I’m so doomed,” Score cried. “Why, why, why why whywhyyyy –”
“Shut up for Merlin’s sake, Score!” someone snapped from the bed furthest away. “Or put up a silencing spell and spare the rest of us for your melodrama!”
“I’m going to die of shame now,” Score declared, pulling the duvet up over his face. A split second later there was a slightly muffled, mortified wail from under the duvet. “Al! It’s still there!”
“If you don’t shut him up soon, Al, I’m going to cast a permanent freezing charm on him!”
“All right!” Al called out. “Score, let’s get you to the showers, all right?”
“I don’t want to leave the bed ever again,” was the muffled reply.
“You can’t stay there forever, you know.”
“I so can. I’m not going to face the world again. Not ever again as long as I live.”
“Come on. It’s ten steps and we’re in the bathroom. I promise no one will look at you, all right? Right, guys?” He asked, slightly louder.
There was a muffled grunt of assent in reply.
“See. Now come on.”
His head slowly emerged from under the duvet. “You promise you won’t look at me either?”
“Of course. I’ll leave you to it, really,” Al replied honestly. “I promise.”
Score sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.” He slowly pulled the duvet down and slipped out of bed. Al tactfully looked aside. “Suppose I’m ready, then,” Score said in a small voice.
Al peeked out of the curtains, but no one was up and about. It seemed like their dorm mates we’re trying to get some more sleep. “Coast’s clear,” he said and took Score’s hand, quickly leading him to the bathroom. “Uhm, well, I suppose I’ll wait outside till you’re done...”
“Yeah,” Score croaked, slipping inside. Al sighed, leaning against the door. He noted that his own morning wood seemed to have gone, which solved his problem...he sighed again and turned around, only to find all three of his dorm mates peering at him from behind their curtains.
“Not one word,” Al said sternly.
His dorm mates shrugged and retreated behind their curtains. A few minutes later the door to the bathroom opened and a very red-cheeked Scorpius peeked out, wearing only a towel round his waist. When he saw no one was watching him, he sighed in relief. “Al...”
“Shush,” Al said. “Go get dressed.”
Score nodded and made his way over to his trunk and started pulling out clothes. He was shivering from cold.
“Al,” Score said in a tone that told Al he’d been thinking, and so he braced himself for whichever crazy theory he’d yet again thought up. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Mh?” Al replied, wondering whether he could allow himself to keep reading his magazine, or whether he’d actually have to pay attention.
“I’ve decided I’m not actually asexual.”
“...what?” Al scrambled out of his arms in order to be able to turn around and face him. He tried not to appear as slack-jawed as he felt. “You’ve decided what?”
Score shifted uncomfortably. “In the light of recent events I’ve had to...reconsider...some things...and...my conclusion is thus that I can’t be an asexual if I...if I have...” He swallowed hard. “Morning erections.”
“It’s been five morning erections in, what, two weeks?” Al asked. “That hardly –”
“Well, there’s other things too!” Score cut off, blushing madly. “Like – like thoughts and stuff and I’m not an asexual anymore, and I’m sure, so...”
“Oh,” said Al, trying not to appear too hopeful. “What then?”
“I’m...not sure,” Score admitted. “I’ve figured that I must be either erotophobic or genophobic...I’m just not sure which one applies to me more. There are nuances, but what it comes down to, at any rate, is the fact that I’m scared of sexual acts.”
“Oh.” Al’s hope plummeted. “That doesn’t really, uhm, change your situation, does it?”
“On the contrary.” Score smiled nervously. “The thing is: sexuality can’t be altered. Of course it’s a fluid thing, but generally it’s not something that can be changed. Phobias, on the other hand, can be cured or dealt with...”
“So what you’re saying, is,” Al said slowly, “that you want to, uhm, cure your phobia and...uhm...take part in, uhm, sexual acts?”
“Ultimately, yes.” Score brushed his fringe out of his face. His hair had really grown long now; it almost reached his shoulders. “I’m not sure exactly which course of action to take in order to get over this phobia of mine, but...” He shrugged weakly. “I’ll look that up and then pick what seems to suit me best.”
“Okay...” Al smiled. “Uhm, if you need my help, er, uhm, just, uhm, let me know, all right?”
“Of course.” Score smiled and tugged on his arm, wanting him to settle back with him.
“Good.” Al gave him a soft kiss and then curled up again, resting against his chest. He picked up his Quidditch magazine again and leafed through it until he found the article he’d been reading.
He smiled to himself as Score started threading his fingers through his hair.
“Al!” Score whispered rather loudly. Al stopped and turned around.
“What is it? I’ve got to go to class – and so do you.”
Score waved him over impatiently, and only now did Al notice the look of mystified horror on his face. “Come on!”
“What is it?” Al asked, finally uprooting himself from his spot and following Score into an abandoned class room. “What happened?”
“I –” Score made sure the door was definitely closed, then tugged at his robe nervously. “I wanked!” he whispered, looking at the floor, then at Al, then at the floor again.
His cheeks were redder than Al had ever seen them before. “You what?” he breathed. “You – you wanked?”
Score nodded, scraping the toe of his shoe over the stone floor.
“Uhm, how was it?”
“I don’t know,” Score answered, biting his lip.
“You don’t know?” Al asked, incredulous. “But...how...was it nice, at least?”
“I...don’t know. I was, well, sort of busy being terrified at what I was doing and then it was all over and I had to clean up and –” He cut himself off abruptly. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like.”
Al smiled and sat on the edge of a table. “Come here.” He held his hands out. After a moment of hesitation, Score clasped his hands softly and Al pulled him closer. “Why’d you do it?”
“Er...I slept in because I had a free period, you know...and well, when I woke up...” he made a suggestive move towards his crotch, scrunching up his nose. “And since I was alone there and all, I decided to...try method one.”
“I see...” Al squeezed his hands. “I suppose it worked?”
Score blushed. “I – yes.” He drew in a deep breath. “But I...it was weird...to...you know, have to touch my...my...” He looked down, biting his lip again.
Al thought he was the most adorable thing in existence. “It’s all right to say it.” His boyfriend made a face, and Al chuckled. “All right, then. But hey, I guess this calls for a celebration? Next Hogsmeade weekend, drinks on me?”
“Yes, I suppose...” A slow smile spread on Score’s lips. “It is...I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever – it’s still terrifying, but...well, I’ve done it once, so...next time I suppose I know what to expect...”
Those two words, next time, had Al’s insides churning excitedly. “If it’s any help, I can assure you that it’ll only get better every time you try,” he said.
Score nodded. “Yeah...you’re probably right. I mean, you do it a lot, right?”
“Uhm, yeah...I do.”
“What – what do you think of when you do it?” he asked, the blush creeping back onto his cheeks. He was staring at their hands as if they were the most interesting thing in the whole world.
“You,” Al answered, his own cheeks heating. Strangely, his answer didn’t make Score more unsettled, or even terrified, rather he seemed relieved.
“Oh.” He smiled shyly. “That’s good.”
“Is it?” Al asked, surprised.
“Well, I thought of, well, you, so...I suppose that’s a good thing.”
Al grinned, suddenly inexplicably giddy. “Yes, that’s a good thing.” Score grinned back and pulled Al to his feet.
“We’re going to be late for class,” he announced, but didn’t move. Al nodded his assent, but he didn’t particularly want to go, not right then.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, squeezing his hands. “I mean, uhm, would you be okay with it if I used, uhm, a bit of tongue and uhm, stuff?”
A slight look of fear shone in Score’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced with one of determination. “You can try,” he answered timidly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. Al nervously licked his lips, then leaned in for a soft kiss.
Score stood stock still, but relaxed pretty quickly when he realised that Al wasn’t doing anything differently than usual and hadn’t even parted his lips. He opened his mouth to ask what he was doing and right on cue Al opened his, hesitantly darting his tongue out to swipe over his bottom lip. Score startled, but didn’t move, which Al took to be a stamp of approval.
He had no clue what he was doing, but watching other people in the hallways and the common room had given him a pretty good idea of it, so he nipped at Score’s bottom lip. He gave him another closed-mouth kiss, letting go of Score’s hands to put his arms around his waist instead, and then dared again to part his lips. This time Score parted his own lips in response, if cautiously, and Al carefully stuck his tongue out again, terrified that he’d do something wrong and scare Score off and excited that he was allowed to try in the first place.
To his surprise Score mirrored him, meeting his tongue, and when Al leaned his head a little more to the right, Score did the same. He grinned, but didn’t break the kiss, tentatively nibbling and licking and doing stuff with this tongue that he frankly didn’t know what was good for, but felt nice all the same. Score’s hands coming up to curl around his neck only encouraged him to continue. He took a step backwards, wanting to find that desk again to lean against, but he’d miscalculated somehow and stumbled over a chair, toppling himself, Score and the chair over with a loud crash.
“Ow,” Al said.
“Are you all right?” Score asked, scrambling off him and pulling him to his feet. Al rubbed his back, annoyed.
“I’m all right. Totally ruined that kiss, though.”
Score smiled shyly, his cheeks tainting pink. “Oh, about that kiss...”
“Yeah?” Al gave him a hopeful look, trying to banish the feeling of dread that was sneaking up on him.
It took three quarters of a second for this to sink in, but when it did, there was no stopping the grin on Al’s face. He abruptly pulled his boyfriend close for another kiss. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, still smiling.
“I – well, it was...” Score shrugged awkwardly, but he was also smiling.
“Come on. We’re late for class.” Al nodded towards the door.
The boys made sure their robes were impeccable and remembered to pick up their schoolbags before leaving the classroom. They lost five house points each for being late.
Al looked up from his Quidditch magazine. “Hi James.”
“So, are the rumours true?”
“What rumours?” Al frowned.
“Well, about you and Score.” James flopped down on Al’s bed. “Lily’s told me all sorts of stories.”
“Has she,” he stated dryly, eyebrow raised.
“Yup. Said you two have been seen snogging. Really, Al? You’re such perverts. Snogging.” James grinned.
Al rolled his eyes. “It’s true,” he simply said, returning his attention to the magazine.
James stared at him. “...really?”
“What happened to the whole asexual thing?” he asked.
Al shrugged. “He’s not asexual.”
“...Are you pulling my leg?” James raised an eyebrow. Al reached over and pulled on his leg.
“Now I am.”
“Haha, Al. Seriously.”
“Seriously. He’s not.” Al stopped pulling on his leg. “He thought he was, but he’s not, so...” he shrugged.
“Woh-ho-houw!” James scrambled up into a sitting position. “Does that mean my baby bro is finally getting laid?”
Al snorted and picked up his magazine again. “Shut up, Jamie. I’m not discussing this with you. And I’m not your baby bro.”
“Pft. Does this mean I’ll have to get you lube for Christmas?” James asked thoughtfully. Al hit him. “Ow!”
“Serves you right.” He looked at him suspiciously. “What did you get me for Christmas?”
“You’ll have to wait and find out,” James said cheerfully and got up to leave. “I might have to return it and get you something else, though.”
“No worries, bro.” James winked and slipped out of the room. Half a second later he stuck his head back inside Al’s room. “Maybe some polishing stuff, yeah?” He leered, making suggestive hand movements.
Al threw a pillow at him.
Christmas morning, he wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed when he unwrapped a jar of Quintus’ Finest Broomstick Polish from James.
When Al stepped out of Score’s bathroom and into his bedroom, still dripping somewhat, he was very surprised to find his boyfriend awake, lying on the bed with what looked like come on his stomach, and with very red cheeks.
“Hi,” Score said when he saw him, blushing even more and reaching for his wand to vanish the come. Al stared. “I...”
“Uhm,” Al said, trying to fight his dick, which apparently hadn’t been appeased in the shower, or maybe it was just because his gorgeous boyfriend had evidently had some fun time on his own – oh Merlin, maybe even thinking about him in the shower – that it had risen again.
“I watched you,” Score admitted, having pulled up his pyjama bottoms again, now sitting up and staring at the floor by Al’s feet. A few drops of water splattered against it. “I couldn’t, well, help myself.” He shrugged awkwardly, blushing as madly as ever.
“Oh,” Al breathed and crossed the room, crawled onto the bed and caught his boyfriend’s lips in a warm and excited kiss. “That was – you looked...so hot.” He kissed him again.
“I...” Score darted his eyes downwards and Al realised he’d left his towel on the floor and that he was therefore very naked and his arousal was in plain view, if not a little...imposing. What he also realised was that there was a considerable tent in Score’s pyjama bottoms to match.
“Can I touch you? Please let me touch you...” Al swallowed, unable to take his eyes off that tent, his fingers itching to reach inside and touch.
Score shuddered. “You can...you can watch,” he finally said, looking Al in the eye for a brief moment.
“Watching – watching’s good,” Al replied hoarsely and then, not quite able to control himself, pulled Score in for a proper snog. When he finally pulled away, Score was flustered and breathless and Al thought he’d never been more...beautiful.
“Hang on,” Score mumbled, pulling away to take off his pyjama bottoms. Al couldn’t help staring at his cock, hard and flushed, and he had to restrain himself from touching.
“I need to be close to you,” he said, shuffling closer. “Is that all right?” Score nodded and Al shuffled even closer and arranged them to sit with their legs around each other’s waists, almost close enough for their cocks to touch. “This fine?”
“Yeah.” Score nodded, pulling him in for a kiss. It was when he moaned into the kiss that Al realised he’d already started, and he tore himself away to look.
It was brilliant and hot and the best thing in the world and Al couldn’t help moaning at the sight of those long fingers wrapped around that cock.
“I, I want to watch too,” Score whispered. His eyes were fixed on Al’s cock, his cheeks were red and the flush had spread to his chest. “Al?”
“Yes,” Al replied, fisting his cock almost desperately. “Oh,” he groaned, looking and looking, stealing one kiss and then looking again, and it felt so good and it was thrilling and over far too soon.
“Oh,” Score panted, looking at the mess they’d made and their flushed cheeks and then he grinned. “Oh...”
“Yeah.” Al grinned back and kissed him thoroughly. “That was great.”
“Yeah.” Score was still grinning, a wide and overjoyed grin, a rare grin, in fact, one that Al didn’t see often. “Oh...uhm...” He grabbed his wand and cleaned up the mess, trying to not make a face.
“Come on.” Al smiled, nudging him to lie down and then curled up with him, face nuzzled into the back of his neck. “Mmmhh...”
Score smiled to himself. “Mmmhhyeah...”
“Maybe...next time...” Score started. “You can touch. Or the time after that,” he added hastily. Al tightened his arms around him with a chuckle.
“There’s no hurry,” he murmured. “We can do this for as long as you like.”
“Oh...all right.” Score squeezed his arm. “We can’t snuggle forever, though. It’s New Year’s Eve today and my Dad’s going to have a fit if we don’t get up soon and help him prepare the party.”
“Just five more minutes.”
Right then, Draco knocked on the door and the boys groaned.
“I love you.”
Score smiled overbearingly. “You’re not going to die, Al.”
“I want you to know that I love you more than anything on this earth and that if I die, I leave you my broomstick and my Quidditch magazines and –”
“Al,” Score grinned and kissed his boyfriend. “You’re not going to die. It’s just N.E.W.T.s.”
“It’s Potions, Score! I’ll blow up something! Melt the cauldron! Fail! DIE!” Al flailed, shifting anxiously. “I’ll die a horrible death that’ll leave me so disfigured you’d not even bring yourself to kiss my dead body and my Mum would have nightmares forever and –”
“You’ll do just fine. I went through this with you seven times, Al.” Score petted his cheek. “You’ll be all right.”
Al pouted. “Distract me? Until I’ve got to go in?” He eyed the door to the Potions class room warily. Score rolled his eyes.
“All right.” He gave him another kiss. “I’ll tell you something I was thinking about.”
“You were thinking again?” Al gave him a suspicious look. “Are you going to decide you’re pansexual now and that you’re dumping me to get it on with kitchenware?”
“No, not at all.” Score shook his head. He looked around to make sure they were out of earshot, then leaned in to whisper in Al’s ear. “I decided I’m not erotophobic or anything... I’m just...well. A late bloomer.”
“A what?” Al frowned. “That’s it?”
“Well, that and I’m gay and in love with an idiot.” Score rolled his eyes. “I’ll never stop being scared of girls.”
“Oh,” said Al. “I suppose that’s all right.”
“Yes.” Score elbowed him. “Except for the embarrassing part.”
“What embarrassing part?”
“A late bloomer, Al?” Score raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me that’s not embarrassing.”
“Hm.” Al scratched his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I understand.”
“I really am in love with an idiot,” Score muttered. “Let’s put this straight – it took me ages to do stuff, you know. While everyone else was eating tonsils and shagging in empty classrooms, I was being a scared prude. You know.”
“Oh.” Al smiled softly. “That’s – honestly that’s not bad. You and me were the first people in our dorm to have sex.”
“Don’t pull my leg here, Al –”
Score frowned. “But –”
“You know what, Score – you aren’t only a late bloomer, you have performance anxiety,” Al grinned. “And perhaps a minority complex as well. How does that sound?”
“Screw you.” Score sulked. “It’s not funny.”
“Maybe it is, a little bit.” Al wrapped his arms around him in a crushing hug. “But I love you anyway,” he murmured, pressing his nose into Score’s long hair. “You smell good.”
“I love you too, I should hope so because I paid bloody three galleons for that shampoo and you’re not going to die.”
“Maybe I’ll die a little bit.”
Score sighed. “You’re not, Al, for the last time.” He poked him. “Now get off me. They’ll call us in in about two minutes.”
“Tell me again why we aren’t Potions partners?” Al sulked.
“Because you always screw my Potions over and try to blame it on stray magic.”
Score smiled. “If you manage to get through this exam without blowing something up, melting your cauldron, blaming something on stray magic or somehow turning your hair blue, I’ll reward you.”
Al groaned. “Please, do put a greater pressure on me, will you?” He then paused. “Did you say reward? Does it involve cake or chocolate or a subscription to that new Quidditch magazine?”
“None of that,” Score grinned, then leaned in for a whisper. “I’ll let you do that, that thing. The one you talked about last week.”
“Great.” Al swore. “Now I’ll definitely screw up.” He gave his boyfriend a funny look. “For real, though?”
“Do I still get it if my cauldron melts just a little bit?”
He never heard the answer because in that moment the door to the classroom opened. “I love you,” Score said happily and nudged him to move. “Don’t forget about the reward.” Al swore again, then followed him inside.
As it turned out, he melted nothing.