
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/283668.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Albus_Severus_Potter/Louis_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Cousin_Incest, Romance, Unresolved_Sexual_Tension, Chan, Incest
  Series:
      Part 1 of Idoles_Tombées
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-26 Words: 2286
****** Idoles Tombées ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Louis has an embarrassing secret, an obsession that will cost him
     everything should it be revealed...
Notes
     There's not a lot I can say for this one. Questionable themes; fairly
     offensive content.
     I wrote this in the midst of my love affair with this pairing, a love
     affair I shared with the wonderful artist, Flayu, who made some
     beautiful art for both this story and the sequel. Visit her DA page.
     Know her. Love her.
Strangers tell Louis all the time that he is beautiful. Clearly they have never
seen Albus Potter.
Louis thinks the boy is a walking masterpiece, blessed with slender hands and
creamy skin, a pert little nose, full pink lips and big doe eyes—such an
unnaturally vivid shade of green, those eyes—framed by impossibly long black
lashes... Louis spends all day daydreaming about that perfect face, waxing
poetic about it in his notebooks or sketching it out in the back of his Charms
textbook when he should be studying for his NEWTs.
He deems it an appropriate waste of his time.
If anything's going to bring about his demise, it might as well be Albus.
~o~
It all began the summer Louis turned sixteen and rather suddenly couldn't stop
wanking over Albus Potter's lips. At the time he'd been well aware that wanking
over one's younger cousin's lips was a hugely improper pursuit, but had still
been unable to stop—each time Albus sat down next to him during dinner or
rested his head upon his shoulder, snuggled up beside him in front of the fire
or cuddled him before bed, Louis would be sprung with an untimely erection he
would then be forced to swiftly take care of before any of his housemates
noticed he was flush-cheeked, trembling, and trying anything and everything to
hide the bulge in his trousers.
For the first couple of months he'd been frequently sore between the legs.
But it is far worse now than he cares to admit. His feelings for Albus have
only grown stronger with time, and Louis has come to realize that this is no
passing phase: He will not grow out of this. He does not desire anyone else. He
is dangerously obsessed with his own cousin, and will stop at nothing to
possess every inch of him. He wants Albus as his lover, and no one else will
do.
~o~
Such proclamations are difficult to enact when the object of one's affection
has a father named Harry Potter. Each time Louis sees the man, he cringes and
makes a hurried excuse to get away and hide. Uncle Harry must assume by this
stage that Louis thinks ill of him, though this is not at all the case—Louis
loves Harry, adores him even; but ever since his fixation with young Albus
began, he has found it near impossible to look the Auror in the eye: He knows
well that Harry is trained in Legilimency--the idea he might look at Louis and
see any of the depraved fantasies his nephew harbors for his precious son is
more horrific than any nightmare Louis can recall. He is sure, beyond a shadow
of doubt, that Harry would slice him ear-to-ear if he knew the truth.
The Potters stay at Shell Cottage for a few days over Christmas break, and
Louis can't believe his own bad luck. He has Albus alone of course, in his room
of all places, but the fact Uncle Harry sleeps only a few doors down puts
something of a damper on Louis's excitement. Still, he is determined not to lay
a finger on Albus while the boy's father is under the same roof, and will not
be tempted to steal so much as a kiss.
He has never before received a greater lesson in self-control.
It doesn't help much that Albus likes to play with Louis's fingers when they're
in bed, twisting them fitfully around his own as he sleeps. Albus is far too
trusting of him, and this is one of the things Louis loves most about him. He
is still so innocent and sweet; uncorrupted. Louis thinks it will be a great
tragedy to take that away from him, and so for the time being he makes an
effort to keep his hands and lips and cock to himself.
He works out his pent-up aggression through exercise instead, the only thing
that seems to alleviate the tension some. His sisters tease him for his vanity,
though neither of them can talk much on that subject without looking
ridiculous—the pair of them are as vain as they come. But for Louis, vanity
hardly enters into it. When he is running, lifting weights, doing push-ups and
crunches, he is single-minded and not, for a change, fixated upon sex. He can't
think about sex, or all the things he would like to do to Albus with his
tongue; not when his muscles ache and he is dripping with sweat and fighting to
catch his breath. Afterwards he will sometimes sleep for a few hours, and this
takes care of a good portion of the day: He does not have to see Uncle Harry
except during dinner, and save for bedtimes will not be confronted with Albus's
beautiful face at random intervals throughout the day.
He keeps his wanking to a schedule, too, in order to avoid ill-timed erections:
once in the morning, a quick one of an afternoon, and a leisurely one at night
before bed. It is essential that he wank before going to bed with Albus—if he
doesn't, he is sure the frustration will cause him to do something he regrets,
and he does not want to hurt Albus. He doesn't want to touch him at all until
the time is right.

His plan seems to be going swimmingly until Christmas morning, when Albus asks
Louis if he is avoiding him: "I just feel like we haven't spent any time
together since we've been here," the boy says, worrying his lower-lip between
his teeth and staring down at his feet. "You always seem like you're too busy
to talk to me. I have to go home tomorrow and ... I just hope I haven't done
anything to make you angry with me, that's all. I missyou."
Louis thinks he just might turn into a puddle of goo on the floor. He steers
Albus back into the bedroom and sits him down on the bed. "It wasn't
intentional," he lies, kneeling down before his cousin. "And of course I'm not
angry with you; how could I be? I've just been busy with NEWTs; you know how it
is. I haven't had the time to muck about with the rest of you; I have to study.
I'm sorry, Al."
Albus looks crestfallen. "You exercise a lot," he mumbles, still not looking at
him, and Louis is mildly grateful for this—he doesn't think he could stand to
look into those gorgeous eyes and not give in to the temptation to kiss the boy
they belong to.
Instead he laughs and replies, "You know what the girls say about me: I'm too
vain for my own good."
Albus frowns at this. "You're not vain; you're the least vain person I know."
Louis doesn't know what to say to this, and so says nothing at all.
"I could go with you?" Albus suggests hopefully, and Louis smiles.
"And what would you need to exercise for, mon chéri? You're perfect just the
way you are."
Albus tries and fails to suppress a smile, and Louis's heart gives a painful
throb.
"So are you," the boy tells him quietly, and fiddles with the hem of his pajama
top.
Louis's mouth is dry. He tries to tell himself to stop and think, but before
the thought even registers, his hand slides over Albus's thigh, gently
squeezing the firm flesh beneath his palm. The boy stares at him, curious, but
does not look afraid.
"Do you want to do something today?" Albus asks quietly. "Together?"
Louis's eyes flutter closed and he reminds himself to breathe. His restraint is
slipping despite his good intentions. "I do," he says finally, wiping a bead of
sweat from his brow. "We'll do something together before you go home—just the
two of us. How does that sound?"
Albus gives him a slow smile and leans back a little, supporting himself on his
hands. "Brilliant. What did you have in mind?"
Sex, Louis's mind answers helpfully. Sex, sex, sex, sex... "We could go into
town?" he offers quickly, begging his brain to shut the fuck up. "We'll get a
drink or something and ... talk."
"Just talk?" Albus tilts his head to one side in that bird-like way of his.
Louis narrows his eyes at his younger cousin. Although the boy's expression is
innocent, his tone is anything but. The thought crosses Louis's mind that
perhaps Albus isn't as guileless as he seems, but he quickly dismisses it. He
imagines it is nothing but wishful thinking on his part. "Yes," he says, trying
not to hyperventilate. "Why, what else did you want to do?"
The look on Albus's face turns serious, and his eyes are full of intent. He
puts his hand over Louis's and whispers, "I don't know if I should answer that,
Louis."
Rendered speechless by this, Louis is primed for a heart attack when Uncle
Harry's booming laughter reverberates through the house. He removes his hand
from Albus's thigh in an instant and gets to his feet. Albus peers up at him
from the bed, lashes thick and dark against his skin, and Louis mumbles, "We
should probably get back out there; they'll be wondering where we've got to."
"So let them wonder," Albus says with a small shrug. "I want to stay here for a
bit. I've missed you so much." He rolls his lip around between his teeth until
it is red and wet and begging to be kissed. Louis lets out a small whimper when
he feels Albus's foot run along the back of his leg. He takes a deep breath and
forces himself to remember that this is not a dream or fantasy, and that Albus
is unlikely to appreciate being slammed back against the mattress and roughly
fucked.
His mouth waters at the thought.
Clutching at the last threads of his sanity, he says, "Really, Al, we shouldn't
be in here. Come on now; get your clothes on and we'll go have breakfast."
Albus pouts. "I don't understand why you're so eager to get away," he huffs. "I
was under the impression you likedit when I touched you."
Louis feels lightheaded as the blood slowly drains from his face. "I don't know
what you mean," he says, rather unconvincingly.
Albus rolls his eyes. "I'm not stupid, Louis. You hardly ever look at me, and
whenever you do you blush like a rose. Oh, and you always make that face when
we're in bed together," he adds as an afterthought.
"What face?" Louis asks weakly, absolutely stunned.
Albus laughs and pulls a face. "Like this. See?"
Louis has to sit down on the bed to keep from falling over, and as soon as he
does Albus climbs into his lap and cuddles him, arms tight around his neck. "I
knew I wasn't imagining it," he murmurs into Louis's hair. He leans back to
stare at him. "I was hoping you'd say something before you left school. I
didn't want you to forget about me."
Dazed, Louis winds an arm around the boy and balances him on his knee. A wave
of sadness, of longing, washes over him. "How could I forget about you, hm?"
Trembling, he places two fingers beneath Albus's chin and gently tilts his jaw.
He leans close until their breath mingles, and it feels as though he's waited
centuries for this moment. Eyes fixed on Albus's soft lower lip, Louis catches
it between both of his own and lets the almost-kiss linger for a few moments.
When he draws away, Albus is flushed red, his eyes tightly shut. He whispers:
"I've wanted you to do that for so long," and Louis can't tear his eyes away
from that beautiful mouth. He thinks of all the times he has wanked to this
picture, imagined Albus's lips wrapped around his cock, sucking and choking on
it, and he can't believe his dreams are finally coming true... Well, almost,
anyway.
"I don't want this to be the last time," Louis confesses, running his hands
over Albus's sides and squeezing his shoulder blades. What he wouldn't give to
take him right here and now... "But we have to be ... careful." He feels dizzy,
and fights to keep his control. "If your father—"
"I won't tell anyone if you won't," Albus says quickly, his eyes wide and
panicked. He puts a hand to Louis's face and rubs a thumb over his cheekbone.
"If I promise to keep a secret, could we maybe ... do this again? Please?"
Louis stifles a groan and covers Albus's delicate hand with his own. "Of course
we can," he breathes. How could he ever deny this beautiful creature anything
he might desire? "I'll do anything for you, Al. Anything at all."
Albus tilts his head to one side, looking thoughtful, and runs his fingertips
from Louis's throat, down over his chest and abdomen. "I want you to—"
"AL!" It is Uncle Harry. Perfect timing, as always. "AL, GET DOWN HERE; YOUR
BREAKFAST IS GOING COLD!"
Louis's heart hammers guiltily—if only Uncle Harry could see them right now—but
Albus just rolls his eyes, clearly irritated at being interrupted. "Bloody
hell," he mutters. "I wish we were alone somewhere." He looks down at Louis and
brushes his lips across his cheek. "Later?" Oh, the sense of promise that word
evokes.
"Later," Louis manages without stuttering, and leans forward to steal another
kiss. Albus lets out a tiny squeak of surprise, laughing, and says, "I'm sort
of hoping I don't wake up now and find that this is all a dream."
Louis smiles against his lips. "I know exactly what you mean."
~Finis~
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