The Many Musings of Albus Potter

xxv. grims

xxv. grims

If Albus Potter thought that the novelty of kissing Roscoe Sterling would fade away, he is very much mistaken.

They don't dare try sneaking away again the next night, or the rest of the week. Professor Zabini is livid with the Slytherins, having figured out at least one of them had distracted him with that spell, and casts a Caterwauling Charm outside the door. This is a hard-learned lesson for Aegeus Aldrich who is dumb enough to call Zabini's bluff and sets it off at three thirty in the morning. He is forced to write a hundred lines ever day for the rest of the academic year.

If Albus thought it was agony before, it is torment now, going to class every day and not seeing Roscoe until much later in the afternoon. They pass by each other with nothing more than imperceptible nods, fingers brushing just so as they mill around the crowds of students heading to their lessons. Albus Potter finds that he is in much more need of the bathroom, breaking into a small trot and finding himself at the mercy of Roscoe Sterling's hands and hips and teeth as he rounds into one of the cubicles.

They can't do much more than handsy groping but Albus likes the tension that it seems to build around them. He can feel Roscoe's magic buzzing with a sort of magnetic energy around his. Everytime they kiss, his fingers thrum with possibilities. He sleeps better at night too, and isn't worried about anything catching on fire again.

The Slytherins' move back into their House is a welcome return to normalcy. There've been some customisations made, they find - the common room isn't quite so chilly anymore and the girls' dormitories are virtually impossible to get into, unless they want to get zapped and stung or - worse - marked with a pimpled PEEPING TOM across their forheads that doesn't go away for weeks (as Doherty unfortunately finds out).

The ban to the girls' dormitories is a blow for some of the Slytherins and the girls don't want to tempt fate and try and sneak into the boys' rooms, lest they share Doherty's acne-ridden fate. And so the common room becomes a regular place of various kinds of rendezvous. Munroe nearly complains to Zabini but Zlata Karlsson leaps upon him and he responds with such enthusiasm that all such notions of reporting misdemeanour to the headmaster, even if it is in breach of a Prefect's code of conduct, completely disappears.

With nary an inkling of sexual interest in the female species, Albus in normal circumstances would've found this thoroughly annoying. He likes the common room; this is where he studies or paces about in the middle of the night. But he, too, is taking advantage of the situation.

"Thank goodness for my heterosexual room-mates," he sighs, pulling Roscoe into his empty dorm-room and spelling it shut. Roscoe laughs into his mouth and he's gorgeous; he's so fucking gorgeous. He pushes him down on his four-poster bed and Roscoe flicks his wand at the curtains which zip past them, blocking the world away.

Now that he has Roscoe on his back, Albus looms over him, his hands pinning Roscoe's wrists, his hips dangerously close to his trousers. Albus is so dizzy with lust that he's struggling to breathe.

"I want to fuck you," he rasps.

It shocks him. He's never even spoken to Scorpius like this before.

No. His mind forces it away. No, Scorpius does not exist in this space right now.

Evidently it shocks Roscoe too. Noticing how he freezes against him, how his smile wavers, Albus lets go of his wrists. Instead, he cups his hand on Roscoe's cheek, strokes it gently with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Was that too much?"

He moves to get off but Roscoe catches his hand.

"Don't," he mutters, voice wobbling. "I swear to all things holy and Muggle, if you leave me here with blue balls, I will murder you."