Must Have Done Something Right / Scorbus

Chapter 35 / Must Have Done Something ...

Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling of his four-poster, Scorpius was having difficulty going to sleep. The noise from the party downstairs was carrying up the stairs and directly to his dormitory, making it impossible to rest.
He turned to the side in a mission to find a more comfortable position. He frowned; something was digging into his left thigh. Reaching down, he fished around to find that the Snitch was still buried in his pocket. He had forgotten it was there. He brought it closer to his face, holding it in the tips of his fingers, and smiled affectionately. Snitches were prized objects; everyone in the Wizarding world knew of their significance, and here he was, holding one in his hands. And it was by no effort of his own.
This one was for you, Scorp.
His heart barraged inside his chest, beating maniacally as the memory of Albus reaching down to him from atop his broom replayed in his mind. It was the single, most romantic thing that had ever happened to him. But in a sick paradox of emotions, despair filled him alongside his joy; for in Albus' mind, it wasn't meant in a romantic way at all. He had probably thought it was a nice, friendly gesture for someone who had never enjoyed Quidditch before.
Scorpius sighed. "Albus, what are you doing to me?" he said to no one.
For the next hour, he sat in his bed, turning the golden ball in his fingers and memorising its grooves and the two tiny slits where its wings sprouted from. It really was a miniscule little thing, and Scorpius marvelled how anyone could spot it as it darted around, while flying at lightning-fast speeds. A new respect for Albus' difficult position on his team grew in Scorpius.
Eventually, he heard footsteps ascending the staircase and stopping outside his door. He had a second to hope that it wasn't Matt or Paul, before the door banged opened and in walked Albus—a very intoxicated Albus.
"Scorp! I was wondrin' where you were," he said, smiling like a loon as he stepped into the room. His step was unsure on his journey across the room, but Scorpius was having too much fun watching Albus try walking to step in and help.
"Had a good time?" he asked, bemused.
Albus chuckled. "Am I not drunk enough? Can't you tell?"
Scorpius laughed at his pleasantly inebriated tone of voice. "Exactly how much have you had to drink?"
Snorting inelegantly, Albus dropped down on Scorpius' bed right next to him, against the headboard. "Don't know; stopped counting a loooong time ago."
For someone who had just imbibed an indefinite amount of alcohol, Scorpius was surprised at how well put together Albus' speech was.
Albus turned his head to Scorpius' side. "Hey! That's th'Snitch!" he exclaimed, grinning happily at the small ball in Scorpius' hand. "I gave it to you!" he recalled cheerfully. Apparently, Albus was a happy drunk.
Scorpius laughed. "I never got to thank you for it. So thank you. It means a lot to me," he said, not knowing how much of what he was saying Albus was actually registering in the remaining functional part of his brain.
"You deserve it ... being my best mate and all ... sticking by my side ..." Albus looked at Scorpius and cocked his head. "Sometimes I wonder why you do," he said, sounding much more lucid than he was.
"What do you mean?"
Albus frowned; the look on his face was one he would have if he were looking at a very complex puzzle. "Well ... I was'n very nice t'you before this year ... I was mean ..." he looked at Scorpius and smiled. "But you're here now ... sit'n next to me ... I like that you're m'friend ... best friend ..."
Scorpius stayed quiet, wanting to see where Albus was taking his train of thought, while simultaneously thinking that Albus was far too adorable than what was acceptable.
Albus sat forward and shuffled around so that he was facing Scorpius. His eyes were wide open and as green as the grass of the Quidditch pitch, and Scorpius thought he could happily sit there and stare for as long as Albus would allow. "Y'know ... you're pretty."
Scorpius' eyebrows jumped up. "What?"
"Pretty," Albus said again, more determined. Then he shook his head. "Not—not pretty like a girl," he chortled, "You're not a girl, thank goodness ... but ... pretty like ... like ... pretty like Scorpius!" He kept looking at Scorpius, like he was seeing him for the first time. Scorpius didn't have the time to hope his make-up wasn't smudged or his hair wasn't ruined, because Albus suddenly said, "And you love me."
Scorpius' lungs locked—his breath stuck inside his throat—while his heart starting jumping up and down. He figured Albus was just about drunk enough to forget this conversation in the morning, so he took a breath and said, "Yes, Albus, I do. Like you wouldn't believe."
The smile Albus gave him was genuine and heart-felt; it made Scorpius' insides warm. "Why?" Albus asked; his voice catching on the word.
Momentarily lost for words, Scorpius wondered over the fact that he had never really been asked this question before. He had known it in his heart, for sure, but he had never stopped to consider the reasons why. "Because ... you've made so many sacrifices for me, and I know that you could only do those things if you cared," he said in almost a whisper. Albus was gazing at him with sincerity, and even though Scorpius knew he was drunk and may not be paying him full attention, he couldn't stop his words. He suddenly needed to tell Albus the reasons why he loved him so much. "Because, sometimes, you make me feel like I'm the only person on this earth, when you're looking at me the way you are now. Because you say the sweetest things to me, without realising it. Because you don't try to make excuses for who I am; you accept me, all of me. Because you stand up for me. Because you've been punched in the face so many times because of me," he smiled and exhaled a shaky breath, "you're my knight in shining armour, Albus. And I love you so much that sometimes I can hardly breathe. You don't know how many times I've dreamed that we were together; that you loved me as much as I love you." Tears were slowly building behind his eyes, so he closed them. Albus' face was burned on the back of his eyelids. "You're also funny, and considerate, and smart. You're incredible at Quidditch, and soon the whole world will know that. And ..." he smiled, keeping his eyes shut, "you're bloody gorgeous, and you don't even know it."
"Stop," Albus said gently. "Scorp, open your eyes."
He did, and dropped his smile when he saw the look on Albus' face. The somewhat light-hearted mood disintegrated, and sometime during his spiel, things had become serious. Albus no longer appeared drunk at all, but perfectly clear-headed, and he was staring at Scorpius with admiration and, dare he say it ... love?
Albus shook his head in wonder. "I can't be all those things. I don't ... I don't deserve you." Pausing for a beat, Albus stared straight at him. "How did you ever become my friend, Scorpius Malfoy? After everything I've done ... How did you ever love me?" He breathed out, as if in disbelief and wonder. Then he shrugged his shoulders a fraction, and with a small smile, said, "I ... I must have done something right."
Scorpius bit his lip and smiled. "Don't you understand? Every word you're saying right now is why and how. You don't even realise that every time you doubt yourself, I just keep falling further and further in love. I know I sound like a sap, but—"
"You don't."
And suddenly, Albus' lips were against his.
Scorpius' eyes flew open and his heart leapt into his mouth. Before he was given a second to understand what was happening, Albus' right hand came up to gently hold the side of his face, just under his ear. It was the softest touch. And it was the sweetest kiss.
He smiled against Albus' lips.
This was real.
Albus was kissing him.
And it was so much better than any dream he'd ever dreamt. Every kiss he had ever shared with Eamon paled beside this one. His heart never beat as hard it was now when Eamon had ever kissed him. How could it compare? He was kissing the boy he loved.
Following Albus' actions, he also closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the connection. Albus' mouth felt incredible as it caressed his lips with an unusual mixture of confidence and hesitation—this was a first for both of them, and Scorpius hoped with all his heart it wouldn't be the last. Nothing, nothing, would ever make him feel as whole and fulfilled as this. Like all his troubles were answered. Like all the pieces of a puzzle suddenly, wonderfully, fit into place.
Albus pressed his head closer to Scorpius' for a fraction. His lips were slightly chapped and his breath smelled slightly of alcohol, but Scorpius found he didn't care—it was all Albus. Body shivering with pleasure and delight, Scorpius felt as if every moment in his life, every reason for living, came down to this moment. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else made sense.
But this: he and Albus. Together. This made sense.
It ended far quicker than either of them wanted it to. They pulled away, but Albus' hand remained on Scorpius' face, the tips of his fingers gently moving against the skin just beneath his ear, sending pleasant shivers all over his body.
Their faces were flushed, their lips red and damp. Scorpius' were throbbing, already missing the feel of Albus on them. He knew he could never get enough of that. Albus had ruined him for anyone else.
The moment was fragile, and Scorpius didn't want to speak lest it broke. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to wonder what existed between the two of them, but he did know that he wouldn't stop until he got to feel Albus kiss him again, preferably when he was completely sober. It was like Albus was his wine, and one taste had Scorpius utterly addicted.
Albus finally pulled his hand down from Scorpius' face, who mourned the loss, and licked his lips, tasting the remnants of their kiss. When a minute passed
and Albus still hadn't spoken, worry crept into Scorpius' mind. What was he thinking? Scorpius was desperate to dive into Albus' thoughts. Did he regret it? Did he enjoy it?
At last, Albus spoke.
"You're a good kisser." He smiled, and Scorpius knew it was an effort to break the seriousness of it all. Typical Albus.
He grinned in response, and in his mind he imagined Albus saying, Wanna do it again? Of course, that wouldn't happen, but a boy could dream, can't he?
Then, something changed.
Albus' smile slipped off his face entirely, and the light went out in his eyes. The temperature spiralled down suddenly, and the intimacy, the closeness, they had experienced seconds ago dissipated into air. The moment was gone. Scorpius instinctively knew he didn't want to hear the next words of Albus' mouth. "Scorp..." he said; then he shook his head sadly. He was silent for a minute. Scorpius' instincts were telling him to run, to escape the pain of what was about to be said. He stayed; but he should have left. "I ... I shouldn't have kissed you."
Scorpius' heart sank, pierced right in the middle by Albus' idea of a conscience. Tears he had felt earlier collected rapidly at the rim of his eyes, threatening to spill over. He couldn't control his breathing as it escaped him in tiny shudders. But he still didn't run away, determined to hear what Albus had to say for himself; to hear what excuse he would make this time.
"God, Scorp, I am so sorry," he whispered, hanging his head, unable to maintain eye contact.
Albus regretted the kiss, Scorpius thought wretchedly; he regretted the most perfect moment in Scorpius' life, and all he could say was sorry. Like that could ever be enough.
Anger, pure anger, like he had never known before, rose up in Scorpius like a furious monster. The pain of hearing Albus curse to death all of his emotions in just a few words was worse than any torture Matt could ever inflict. That it was Albus—his closest friend, his heart's desire—was gut-wrenchingly horrific. This was unbearable. Scorpius felt robbed of all good things; of what he pictured his first kiss with Albus would be like. He would now never have that first kiss, because Albus had gone and trampled all over his heart.
Scorpius gritted his teeth, and though it killed every cell inside him, he said in a low and grave voice, "Look at me."
Albus hesitated, but did after a few seconds. There was pain in his eyes, but Scorpius looked past it. He had forgiven Albus enough.
"What right do you think you have to toy with me like that?" he asked, hurt beyond belief. A few teardrops slithered down his face. "You know ... you know how I feel about you, Albus. I just spilled my heart out to you; I told you every reason why I love you. And then you kiss me and tell me you're sorry? Like it was all one big mistake?"
"No, Scorpius, I just wanted ..." he trailed off. Even he didn't know what he wanted to say.
Scorpius finished for him, as a few more tears covered his face in wet tracks. "You just wanted to see what it would be like? This isn't a game, Albus. I'm not something you can just test to see if you like it."
"I wasn't—Scorp, please ..." Albus tried.
"You're not allowed to mess with my feelings like that, Albus!" he cried. "I have waited so long, and you just ... you killed me, Al," His voice broke off. He couldn't continue.
The look on Albus' face was a mix of horror and fear. "Scorp, no ... I would never ..." His breath had sped up, and he was looking around everywhere to find his words. He found them in the most heart-breaking place. "I only said that because of Mel."
The instant the words left Albus' mouth, his face showed he knew he had said the wrong words. And he had.
Scorpius' breath stalled. He clenched his fists.
Mel? MEL?
Albus opened his mouth to take back what he had said, but Scorpius didn't let him.
With coldness in his eyes he would never have thought he'd direct at Albus, he looked him in the eye.
"Screw. You. Potter."
His voice was venom.
"Scorpius! No!"
Scorpius stood up, heedless of Albus' reaching arm. "I don't want to look at you at all."
Without a glance back, Scorpius fled the room, his heart shattered.

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Next Chapter: "Mel ... we need to talk," Albus announced.