“Must I, father?”
“Scorpius,” Draco warns, lips pressed in a firm line.
“I’m more than happy to plan your stag party,” Scorpius protests. “In fact, until very recently I was quite excited about the prospect…but must I plan it with him?”
“Yes.” Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. “James is Harry’s best man, he should have equal say in the stag party, especially since Harry and I are having a joint one.”
Draco throws his hands in the air. “I don’t understand what the issue is. You’re best friends with Albus, why can’t you get along with his older brother?”
“Please,” Scorpius scoffs. “Al’s friendly, down to earth and clever. James, however, is cocky, overly sarcastic and obsessed with Quidditch.”
Scorpius recalls all the afternoons spent at Al’s studying just to have James disrupt them with offers of a pickup game in the back garden. He’d barge in, all suited up, his uniform clinging indecently to his stupidly well-formed muscles. So utterly distracting. Scorpius would grit his teeth and politely refuse, ignoring the way James’ arse looked as he turned around and swept from the room.
“Scorpius,” Draco pleads, breaking Scorpius free of his daydream. “Can’t you try to get along, for me?”
“Fine,” Scorpius sighs.
# # #
“Yes, you do,” Harry responds sternly, though his expression softens at the look on James’ face. “I don’t see what the issue is.”
“It’s Scorpius Malfoy,” James groans, as if that explains it all.
“He’s a lovely boy.”
“No,” James refutes, “he’s stuck up, bookish and obsessed with alchemy.”
Back when they were both at Hogwarts, James always used to pass Scorpius when he was on his way to collect the balls for Quidditch practice. Scorpius would be working away in the Potions lab, his obnoxiously pretty blond hair falling into his eyes as he peered into a bubbling cauldron, his sleeves rolled up to expose his pale, elegant wrists.
“Can’t you make an effort?” Harry sighs, and James shakes his head free of the memories. “For me?”
“Fine,” James mutters.
# # #
James shrugs. “Why not? It’s a stag party.”
“Yes,” Scorpius sighs. “A joint stag party. Don’t you think it might be awkward for them to watch the other one receive a lap dance? Especially with your father’s jealousy problem...”
“My dad does not have a jealousy problem. Your dad is the possessive one!”
“Hardly,” Scorpius scoffs. “Anyway, do you really want to watch a half-naked man grinding against your father?
“Fine,” James relents. “What did you have in mind?”
James is so expressive when he’s flustered. Scorpius can’t help but notice how his cheeks stain pink and the way his plump lips twist in frustration. He’s filled out even more since Scorpius last saw him, but he’s just as stubborn as ever. He clenches his chiseled jaw and narrows his hazel eyes.
“Right.” Scorpius clears his throat. “How about a night of riddles and trivia? We can place clues around London and whoever gathers them all first wins.”
“That sounds rubbish.” James rolls his eyes. “It’s a party, not a study session. No one wants to drag books around with them and—”
“Have you ever even read a book?” Scorpius growls, frustration flashing in his eyes.
“Of course I have,” James retorts, flushing angrily.
“I don’t mean Quidditch Weekly.”
“You’re a real prat, you know.” James jumps to his feet, glowering down at Scorpius.
“Takes one to know one.” Scorpius rises off the couch as well, internally cringing at his weak comeback.
James looks as if he’s trying not to laugh. His pinched expression fans the flames of Scorpius’ anger; his mind works feverishly, searching for a better insult to really get under James’ skin. His brain, however, is scrambled and hazy as he glares at James, completely distracted by the way he chews on his lower lip.
“I need a drink,” James finally mutters, shrugging his shoulders in defeat and walking towards the kitchen.
# # #
“How about...” Scorpius trails off, furrowing his brow as he thinks. James does not find it adorable. No, he certainly does not.
“Yes?” James asks, fighting back a grin as Scorpius blinks owlishly at him.
“Um… Oh!” Scorpius’ face lights up. “How about an alcohol-themed party?”
James starts to chuckle but it’s not a terrible idea. “Hmm, they are going to drink alcohol anyway. You might be on to something.”
“Yes,” Scorpius agrees. “We could do a wine tasting. You know, sort out various wines from different regions.”
“That’s way too fancy for dad,” James scoffs. “He doesn’t like wine all that much. Maybe we can find a pub that has a brewery.”
Scorpius wrinkles his nose in distaste. “My father doesn’t drink beer.” He’s so stuck up. James definitely does not find this cute at all.
They’re both silent for a moment, staring at the drinks in their hands before turning to each other.
“Whisky!” they exclaim at the same time.
The next hour passes quickly, with James and Scorpius sitting close together as they write down the logistics of the party. James can smell the liquor clinging to Scorpius’ skin; he watches the beads of amber that settle on his lip before Scorpius swipes it away with his pink tongue. Their legs press together occasionally and the heat of Scorpius’ body spreads into James through the fabric of his jeans.
“We should have different varieties.” Scorpius says, more to himself than to James. “I can do some research about the origins and history of the whiskies we choose.”
“You’re such a nerd,” James laughs.
“Take that back.” Scorpius pouts, trying to look affronted, but not looking terribly upset.
“Make me,” James challenges, smirking deviously at Scorpius.
Scorpius moves to shove James, but he winds up falling half on top of him. James’ already precarious balance is overturned and they tumble off the sofa, their legs tangling together as they fall to the floor.
James is already hard. He’s not even sure when that happened, but arousal is coursing through his veins more fiercely than the alcohol. He tries to untangle himself but Scorpius is no help, giggling in small hiccups as he lies on the floor. James moves on top of Scorpius, ready to push himself back up when his stiff cock brushes against Scorpius’ leg. The laughter dies on Scorpius’ lips and he stares at James, wide-eyed with shock.
James considers apologizing or quickly standing up and stalking away in embarrassment, but he’s frozen to the spot, breathing heavily as his cock twitches in pants, heavy against Scorpius’ leg. Scorpius’ cheeks flush and his mouth parts slightly. Those lips are so pink, delicately curved and utterly kissable.
James leans down and captures his lips in a kiss, swallowing the surprised moan that escapes from Scorpius’ mouth. He waits a moment, pausing against Scorpius’ trembling lips, expecting to be pushed away. Instead, Scorpius surges up to kiss him again, bringing his hands up to James’ hair and threading his fingers through the thick locks.
We should have done this sooner, James hazily thinks to himself as he opens Scorpius’ mouth with his tongue. He tastes like whisky, warm and woodsy, and the wet slide of their tongues meeting spreads a new wave of lust through his body. Scorpius writhes against James’ body, rubbing his thigh against James’ stiff cock. James presses down, returning the pressure and delighting in the vivid outline of Scorpius’ hard prick against his leg.
James breaks their kiss to nip and lick along Scorpius’ pale throat. Scorpius makes the most gorgeous noises, half gasps and half moans as he offers his neck to be ravished. James’ cock leaks approvingly at the sound. He desperately wants to reach into his jeans and pull it out, but he’s loathe to stop moving against Scorpius for even one second.
Scorpius’ hands slide down James’ back until they come to land on his arse. He squeezes and pulls, bringing James’ groin harder against his own, frantically rocking against his body. Merlin, he’s already so close, embarrassingly so, and the last logical part of his brain suggests slowing down, moving to the bedroom, or least the sofa. Logic has no place here though, not with Scorpius’s heady groans and desperate grinding.
“James,” Scorpius whines, hips stuttering as they rise off the ground to meet James’ eager thrusts. “I’m going to—”
James is going to come, he can’t help it. There’s no hope of resisting when he feels Scorpius’ cock twitch against his thigh, hears Scorpius’ sob of relief. He presses down on Scorpius, biting the soft skin of his neck as his cock throbs in his jeans, pulsing sticky seed all over his cotton briefs.
He pulls back slowly, panting against Scorpius’ neck and feeling the other boy’s rapid pulse against his lips. His come cools in his pants, sticky and uncomfortable, but he feels far too sated to move. Eventually, he manages to roll off Scorpius, so they lay side by side on their backs. James allows his gaze to flicker over to Scorpius, watching his chest rise and fall with each unsteady breath, his eyes fixed to the ceiling.
“Fuck,” James finally mutters.
Scorpius turns his head to face James, looking almost scandalized, as if profanity is really the biggest issue when they’ve both just come in their pants from rutting on the floor. Scorpius opens his mouth, closes it and then opens it once more.
“What?” James asks, thoroughly confused.
“Okay.” Scorpius pushes himself up and looks down at James. “Let’s fuck.” He grabs his wand and casts a quick cleaning charm on them both. “Where’s your bedroom?”
James scrambles to his feet. “Follow me,” he says in a rushed exhale, his voice cracking slightly.
James leads Scorpius up to his bedroom, unable to stop a small smile from spreading across his lips. He can’t help but think his dad might be on to something—Malfoys do have a certain allure.
# # #
“Yes,” Harry agrees, peering into his glass. “It definitely tastes like whisky.”
“Philistine,” Draco mutters affectionately.
“This turned out to be really nice,” Harry remarks, looking around the room. “The boys did a great job.”
“Indeed, they did,” Draco agrees. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill each other.”
Harry chuckles softly. “Where are they, anyway?”
“I just saw them sneak off into the back room,” Pansy says, smiling mischievously as she passes by with a glass in each hand. “I wouldn’t bother looking for them just yet. I think they’re going to be a while.”
# # #