
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8568781.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_and_the_Cursed_Child_-_Thorne_&_Rowling, Harry_Potter_-_J.
      K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Scorpius_Malfoy/Albus_Severus_Potter
  Character:
      Scorpius_Malfoy, Albus_Severus_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Awkward_Conversations, Smut, Fluff_and_Smut, Hand_Jobs
  Series:
      Part 3 of Dress_Robes
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-16 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 4788
****** The Thing that Happened ******
by mischiefmanager
Summary
     The Thing that Happened, as Scorpius has taken to calling it in his
     head, occurred nearly a fortnight ago. Scorpius is keen to repeat the
     experience, sooner rather than later--if it's all the same to Albus,
     of course. Smut ensues.
     This is a direct sequel to the Dress Robes series, and makes
     reference to events from the Alone series (but you don't have to have
     read Alone to understand The Thing that Happened!)
     As always, a million thank yous to my fabulous, divine, superb beta
     reader, Dawn_Seeker. Thanks for the ideas, the encouragement and the
     corrections--none of this would've happened without you.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Bothered *****
Chapter Summary
     Making The Thing that Happened Into A Thing that Happens, or:
     Scorpius Malfoy's Guide to Asking for a Handjob in the Most
     Roundabout Way Possible
     This chapter centres around an adorkably awkward conversation. I
     promise/warn you there is no smut--the next chapter shall contain the
     smut. This chapter is rated T.
It had been twelve days since The Thing that Happened had happened. 
Not that Scorpius was obsessively keeping count except that he totally was
because, besides perhaps meeting Albus Potter, it was his favourite memory of
all time. And obviously it was a very different memory than meeting Albus had
been because that was all about sweets and jokes and this was all about...other
things. Like Albus’s hands. Albus’s mouth. Sexy things like...
“You’re doing it again,” Albus muttered to Scorpius. He was revising and he
sounded annoyed but Scorpius knew him well enough to be able to tell that he
wasn’t unhappy at all. 
“Sorry, thanks,” Scorpius told him quickly and forcibly stopped his restless
leg from fidgeting by pressing it down with his hand, “Sorry, I just...you
know, lots on my mind like...homework, or, yes, homework, leg needed something
to do...”
“Mm,” Albus murmured, and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say
anything else and they fell quiet again. It was a comfortable quiet
though—sitting together on one of the old black leather sofas in the common
room, which was full of other people, but as none of them were paying the
slightest bit of attention to Albus and Scorpius, it didn’t matter. They were
sitting rather closer together than would be typical of two male best friends,
but since they had pronounced themselves boyfriend and boyfriend (boyfriends?)
during The Thing that Happened, this snuggly seating arrangement had become a
bit of a regular thing with them. They held hands sometimes now, hugged more
than occasionally, they had even kissed again (only a few times, briefly, when
they were sure no one else was around), and literally not one person had said a
thing about it to them. Eventually someone would probably notice and word would
get around, but for now, it was very nice to stay out of the spotlight while he
and Albus got their bearings together.
There was just one thing...The Thing that Happened. Scorpius wanted it to
happen again. In fact, he hoped very much that it would become a thing that
they did—like how they were sitting together right now, something that happened
rather frequently. A regular thing. Scheduled groping, so to speak.
The trouble was he did not know how to ask for such a thing. Every idea that
popped into his head sounded more terrible than the last: can you stick your
hand down my trousers again? was the most recent thing he had come close to
blurting out, and he was so embarrassed for even thinking it that he had just
hid his red face behind a textbook and said nothing at all. Albus had not
brought it up again either, though Scorpius was certain he had not forgotten
it, and he had a strong suspicion that Albus was hoping that Scorpius would
broach the topic first.
Good luck with that, Albus, Scorpius thought to himself, crossing the fidgety
leg over his lap to keep it still and resting a composition book full of
Defence Against the Dark Arts notes on it. He twirled his quill in his hand.
“Are you—is something wrong?” Albus asked him quietly.
“No,” said Scorpius quickly, shaking his head a bit more violently than was
probably strictly necessary, “why do you ask?” 
“It’s just, you seem...I dunno, a bit odd?” said Albus, “Is something bothering
you?” 
Bothering. Scorpius was actually feeling quite significantly more bothered than
usual these days—bothered in the much more pleasant but no less frustrating
connotation of the word.
“Bothered? I’m not bothered. I’m fine. Why? Are you bothered? Is something
bothering you?” he asked Albus, and since that sounded very unnatural, he
continued on with, “It’s a funny word, isn’t it? Bothered. Very odd.”
That...was not any better.
Albus closed his textbook and gave Scorpius his full attention, staring right
into his eyes, his face soft with concern. He didn’t say anything, he just
waited for Scorpius to spit it out.
“Okay, well, maybe there is something,” Scorpius admitted in a rush.
Albus waited.
“You know The Thing that Happened?” Scorpius asked him.
Albus furrowed his brow and shook his head slowly.
“You know The Thing,” Scorpius pleaded with him. He had to know The Thing.
Albus was starting to look as though he had serious concerns about Scorpius’s
well-being. 
“The Thing!” Scorpius cried, “The Thing with the...” he accentuated his meaning
by gesturing down into his lap.
“Oh,” said Albus quickly, his eyes widening. He grabbed Scorpius’s flapping
hand out of the air and looked around frantically to see if anyone was watching
them. A couple of people had turned their heads at Scorpius’s outburst, but
very luckily none of them had been present for The Thing that Happened so they
would have no idea to what he had been referring.
“Okay, yes,” Albus muttered, “do you want to maybe go talk about this somewhere
else? Or, you know, at least keep your voice down.”
“Somewhere else,” Scorpius decided, not entirely sure he could abide by the
other condition, “How about by the lake?”
Albus shrugged—he probably had no particular opinions on the matter. Nor, in
fact, did Scorpius—he just wanted to escape from the people in the common room
who were eyeing him suspiciously. Albus got up and dumped his book carelessly
onto the sofa, clearly intending to just leave it there where who knows what
could happen to it—so Scorpius rescued it and placed it in his school bag along
with his own work, which he left in a chair by the entrance to the dormitory as
they exited.
They walked quickly and quietly outside—the corridors were bustling with people
and Scorpius was keen to get as far away from them as possible.
The lakeside was dotted with couples cuddling and groups of friends laughing
and he was struck with the sudden desire to lie down under the trees with Albus
and kiss him all over his beautiful face... 
“Over there?” Albus asked him, pointing to a tree with no one sitting at the
base, probably due to it getting less sunlight than the areas closer to the
edge of the lake. Still, they were looking for privacy, not sunshine, so
Scorpius agreed and moments later they were seated, legs crossed, facing one
another.
“Sorry,” Albus told him immediately, “I thought The Thing you were talking
about was maybe that practical Transfiguration exam you thought you’d messed up
last week, not...” 
He trailed off and fell silent.
“Okay so...” Scorpius started, willing Albus to hop in and get the discussion
going. Albus did no such thing. He simply stared at Scorpius expectantly. 
“I was just thinking...” he tried again, falteringly. Albus just blinked at
him.
“Come on, Albus” Scorpius begged, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about it
rather a lot since it happened...have you? Also?”
“Yeah,” Albus admitted, “I honestly haven’t thought about much else.”
“Oh,” Scorpius whispered, feeling his heart speed up a bit at that revelation,
“It’s just...I don’t know how to ask this. It’s that...it’s like this. I want
The Thing that Happened to become A Thing that Happens. Do you know what I
mean?”
“You mean you want to do it again?” Albus asked him slowly.
“Right, yes,” Scorpius said quickly, “but only if you do, I thought maybe— “
“I do,” Albus assured him, “I really do. That’s...yeah.”
“Alright, fantastic!” Scorpius squealed—hopefully Albus finds squealing
attractive, he thought. That hadn’t been so difficult! “When shall we...?”
“Hmm,” said Albus, screwing up his face and evidently thinking hard, “Er...we
could maybe just have a lie-in during the next Quidditch game, everybody will
be up at the pitch...” 
“Good idea!” Scorpius told him enthusiastically, “When is that, exactly?”
Albus’s kind of cringed. “Three weeks?”
“Oh,” sighed Scorpius, his grin faltering. He waited to see what Albus would
say. Three weeks was a lot longer than he had been hoping they would have to
wait. He could manage though. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. 
“Yeah,” Albus agreed with a grimace, “or...” He hesitated.
“Or?” Scorpius prompted. 
“Or...we could just try and... you know, you could come join me in my bed after
lights out,” said Albus tentatively.
Scorpius must have looked as shocked as he felt, because Albus quickly added,
“I’d be really quiet, I promise.”
“We should probably use a Silencing Charm if we’re going to do that,” Scorpius
suggested. 
“Oh,” said Albus, “why didn’t I ever think of that?”
“It’s okay,” Scorpius assured him with a smile, “I’m glad you never did.” 
Oops. Maybe Albus would just not notice that or gloss over it or—
Albus frowned. “What?” he said.
“What’d I say?” asked Scorpius—playing innocent, but probably not very well.
“Why exactly are you glad I didn’t think of a Silencing Charm?” Albus asked him
shrewdly. 
Oh no. Oh no. Scorpius had a veryspecific reason for being chuffed that Albus
had never thought of using a Silencing Charm under these sorts of circumstances
and he had had every intention of taking that information to his grave with
him. He felt all the blood in his body rushing up to his face.
“Oh nothing,” he said, in the high, awful voice he couldn’t help using when he
was nervous, “I just—I thought of it, so I wanted you to be impressed with me,
for thinking of it, for having it be my idea, and I. Yes. There you go! Are you
impressed?”
Albus wasn’t listening, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he made
the connection. Oh no.
“Were you...can you hear me at night?” he asked, nearly whispering, even though
no one was near enough to hear them.
Scorpius’s mouth opened and closed many times—a clear admission of guilt, he
was aware, but his useless brain had not provided any other ideas for what to
do or say. He definitely looked like a goldfish.
“Oh my God,” said Albus, plainly mortified, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Scorpius was positive he could not get any redder or more humiliated than he
already was. 
“Because...if I told you, then...you would use a Silencing Charm,” he admitted,
wrinkling his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.
Albus just looked confused. Was he really going to make Scorpius spell it out?
“I... didn’t want to not hear you anymore,” Scorpius whispered. Somehow turning
it into a double negative made it easier to say. He squinted to look at Albus
out of the corner of one eye.
“You were listening...on purpose?” Albus clarified.
Scorpius nodded. Albus looked down at the ground and licked his lips before
saying:
“What were you doing while you were listening?”
“I couldn’t possiblysay it out loud,” Scorpius squeaked.
“Were you...you know, because you could hear me doing that?” Albus asked.
Scorpius had closed his eyes again so he couldn’t see Albus’s face, but his
voice had gone oddly low and raspy.
Scorpius nodded again.
“Right,” Albus breathed, and then Scorpius opened his eyes to look at him and
was very glad he did, because there was that word again: bothered. Albus looked
exceedingly bothered—in the good way. His eyes bored into Scorpius’s.
“Right,” he said again, still raspy but with conviction, “we’re doing this
tonight. I can’t wait any longer. After lights out, you come meet me in my bed
and cast a Silencing Charm and then we’ll Do the Thing again or whatever you
were calling it. Tossing each other off.”
Scorpius’s mouth had suddenly gone completely dry. He could only nod again. He
was sure he looked like a bobble head doll, but apparently Albus was into
bobble head dolls because Albus was looking at him as though he was going to
tackle him to the ground and just start going at it. As appealing as that
sounded, there were first years who could probably see them where they were, so
Scorpius stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.
“Okay, well, this has been...illuminating,” Scorpius said in a terrible
imitation of an airy, unconcerned tone of voice, “we should probably head back
now that we have a plan, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” said Albus, though he didn’t stand up. Scorpius noticed that he
appeared to have sort of curled in on himself—his knees were drawn up to his
chest and he had put his arms around them.
“Um...are you coming back to the common room, or...?” Scorpius asked.
“Eventually,” Albus muttered.
Scorpius finally got it.
“I see,” he babbled, “okay, so I’ll just, I’ll go. I’ll go right ahead and you,
you can catch up when you’re...when you’ve...you know, when everything’s back
in its proper place and its proper state and...”
“Scorpius,” Albus hissed through his teeth, “the sooner you leave, the sooner
I’ll be able to join you.”
“Right!” he squeaked, “okay, bye!”
And he scampered along up the grounds and into the castle.
***** Scheduled Groping *****
Chapter Summary
     Scorpius joins Albus in his bed for a repeat performance of The Thing
     that Happened--hopefully with more nudity in this act!
     ...aaaand here's the smut. Enjoy.
They hadn’t really had a chance to discuss the plan further, so with Albus’s
incredibly nonspecific instructions of “you could come join me in my bed after
lights out,” Scorpius boldly set out to make The Thing that Happened happen
again. Well, maybe not boldly. More Slytherin than that—cunning. Quiet.
Stealthy. Whoops!
Scorpius had slipped on something just outside the barrier of Albus’s bed
hangings and he felt his knee collide painfully with the polished wood floor of
the dormitory. In the dead-silence of night, it sounded like a cannon blast. He
was positive he had awoken everybody in the entire school.
“Whuuu?” came a low, groggy voice from the other side of the room.
“Sorry!” Scorpius whispered.
“Wha wazzat?” said the voice.
“Nothing,” he whispered back, “nothing, so sorry. I was just...sorry— “
“Shut it,” the voice yawned, then someone rolled over and it was quiet again.
Scorpius nabbed whatever he had slipped on off the floor—it felt like an item
of clothing—and turned around with every intention of hobbling back to his own
bed and hiding, when suddenly an arm shot out from behind Albus’s curtains and
dragged him inside. It was only with great personal fortitude that he managed
not to yelp like a small dog being trod on. 
And then he was staring Albus in the face, and then lower, pain and terror
forgotten. Albus had apparently prepared for their rendezvous by being
shirtless and Scorpius was speechless and gaping in the presence of Albus’s
bare chest and stomach and a trail of dark hair that led...
Scorpius pulled himself together for barely long enough to cast a Silencing
Charm on Albus’s curtains.
“Why are you holding my Harpies shirt?” Albus asked him, evidently unaware that
his personal magnetism had incapacitated Scorpius.
“Huh?” Scorpius asked eloquently.
“You’ve got my shirt,” Albus told him, then reached out to take it from
Scorpius’s hands. 
“I slipped on it out there,” he said.
“Sorry,” Albus cringed, “I should probably try to be a bit tidier.”
And with those words he tossed the shirt over the edge of the bed, where it
landed back on the floor.
Scorpius climbed onto Albus’s bed, and sat across from him, eyes glued to
Albus’s bare chest.
“You look...interested,” Albus said. He sounded out-of-breath already, and
Scorpius would’ve sworn he could almostsee Albus’s heart thudding in his chest.
“I am,” Scorpius told Albus’s bellybutton, “can we maybe— “
And then something absolutely snapped inside Scorpius and he lunged forward
awkwardly, landing hard on top of Albus and pinning him to the bed, because he
could not stand not touching him for a single moment longer. He found Albus’s
lips and kissed him ardently, one hand holding himself steady and the other
running across the expanse of Albus’s skin that his shirt normally covered.
Albus wasted no time in tugging frantically at the hem of Scorpius’s
shirt—clearly attempting to remove it without breaking their kiss. Unable to do
so, Albus changed tactics and inserted both his hands underneath it, over
Scorpius’s stomach—which was a little bit ticklish and made him
squirm—smoothing over his chest and then around to his back which did not feel
ticklish but something else entirely...
Scorpius placed one leg on either side of Albus’s hips, effectively straddling
him, and broke their kiss with the intention of removing his shirt, but Albus
beat him to it, yanking it inelegantly over his head, and then he stared
blatantly at Scorpius’s bare upper body. It was a very exposed, almost
uncomfortable sort of feeling and he found he had a new respect for Albus for
greeting him half-naked. It had been quite a brave thing to do. 
It was funny—they had seen one another shirtless before many times, but it was
as if they hadn’t because Scorpius had never really let himself look his
fill—and as he gazed down at Albus he knew that he would never, as long as he
lived, forget the sight of Albus sprawled out underneath him, chest heaving,
eyes blazing—and he allowed himself a moment to revel in the fact that they
were really doing this now,this was actually a part of this “new version” of
themselves they had envisioned together. And then he was returned sharply into
the present by Albus bucking his hips up to push against Scorpius. 
Scorpius felt as though it would be proper to go back to kissing him for at
least a little while, but he had been seized by a desperate desire to divest
Albus of all his clothing, so instead of leaning his face down, he crawled
backwards and hooked his fingers in the waistband of Albus’s pyjamas. Almost
before he had finished doing so, Albus lifted his backside off the bed to make
his job easier, and Scorpius took in a deep breath as he pulled them off,
leaving Albus completely naked. He didn’t get much of a chance to look because
Albus sat up instantly and started trying to pull Scorpius’s pyjamas off.
“Wait,” Scorpius panted at him.
“Why?” Albus said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Scorpius assured him, “I just...I wanted you to...go first this
time. That’s all.”
“Yeah, alright,” Albus agreed, but then he admitted a bit more quietly, “but
could you still take them off now? I want to look at you while you...”
Albus looked so sweet and uncertain in his perfectly reasonable request that
Scorpius felt his own confidence bolstered by a wish to make Albus more
comfortable. He made to push down his pyjamas but Albus reached out for him and
grabbed hold of the drawstring.

“Let me?” he whispered. 
Scorpius nodded. Albus fixed his gaze on the tented front of Scorpius’s
pyjamas, and then unfastened them and pulled them down, and Scorpius kicked
them the rest of the way off. Albus did not allow Scorpius to coil up in
modesty (which was Scorpius’s first instinct), instead placing both hands
firmly on Scorpius’s hips and sweeping his eyes from his legs, with a long
pause while he looked between them, then all the way up Scorpius’s chest and
into his face. After a moment of this, Scorpius realised he could use this time
that was, for him, mainly just awkward to admire Albus the way Albus was
admiring him—except that Albus was now leaning forward and restricting the
view. It was at that point that he noticed they could see one another so
clearly because Albus’s wand was propped up on the headboard of the bed and was
emitting a flickering glow, like candlelight. It struck Scorpius as really very
romantic, and one of Albus’s better ideas.
“You’re quite beautiful,” Scorpius told him softly, looking down at Albus and
running his fingers lightly over Albus’s chest. 
“Thanks,” said Albus, quickly glancing down at himself as if to make sure
Scorpius was looking the right person when he said that.
Albus did not say anything about Scorpius, but he didn’t need to. The intense,
focused way he stared at Scorpius’s body—like he was trying to burn the sight
of it into his memory in case he never saw it again—spoke volumes about how
long he had wanted to do this, how much this meant to him and how afraid he was
that this was simply too good to be true.
“Or what I can see of you is, anyway, I didn’t really get a proper look at you,
which I have to say feels less than fair...” Scorpius added.
And just like that, his words had the desired effect of lightening the mood to
something Scorpius was a lot more comfortable with. Albus smirked—which was an
expression that Scorpius had decided suited his face marvellously—and leaned
back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Is this what you’d call a proper look?” he asked cheekily, and Scorpius nodded
because naked Albus had quickly jumped to the top of the list of all his
favourite things to stare at, which included such sights as shelves of books
and mountains of sweets and the gardens of the manor at twilight and clothed
Albus. Naked Albus was the winner, hands down, and speaking of hands...
Fearing the potential repercussions of a badly placed elbow or knee if he
simply attempted to throw himself at Albus again, Scorpius decided instead to
lay down carefully on his left side next to him. He used his left arm to hold
himself up and placed his right hand on the inside of Albus’s thigh, where he
trailed his fingertips up and down to the knee and back several times and
watched with relish as Albus clenched and unclenched his fingers on the sheets
and on Scorpius’s bicep—he was clearly itching to grab hold of Scorpius’s hand
and place it exactly where he wanted it, and Scorpius was considering
continuing the teasing, light touches until Albus became desperate enough to do
that. 
Albus got to that point a lot faster than Scorpius had predicted, but he didn’t
just start rearranging limbs on his own. Instead he turned his head, looked
Scorpius in the eye and said “Please,” very politely—it almost sounded like he
was asking Scorpius to pass him something at the table or some other entirely
mundane favour except that it was very breathy and hot and not at all mundane. 
If he uses that voice, I’ll pull the stars out of the sky for him,was the odd
thought that crossed Scorpius’s mind as he immediately reached up higher and
started lightly stroking. He looked at Albus’s face, the shadows that crossed
over it in the soft light, his bright eyes—which were trained down to look at
Scorpius’s naked body—and his mouth—lips parted and relaxed, and then Scorpius
leaned down to kiss him gently because he had spent such a very long time
wanting to kiss Albus and now he was allowed to, and it seemed a shame to not
take advantage of the privilege. Albus kissed back, then dropped one of his
hands and placed it over Scorpius’s—wrapping his fingers and showing him
exactly how he wanted to be touched.
As per the demonstrated instructions, Scorpius continued kissing him and doing
exactly what Albus had shown him by feel, and after what felt like no time at
all, Albus was lifting his hips off the bed and squeezing Scorpius’s arm so
tightly it almost hurt—and that was when Scorpius wrenched his face away from
Albus’s lips because he had not gotten to watch last time and he wasn’t going
to miss that again. Albus didn’t really have time to protest before his brows
furrowed and his mouth opened and Scorpius’s hand was suddenly getting very,
very wet. Albus made a low, choked sort of noise that he didn’t even attempt to
stifle and it made Scorpius shiver. 
Albus let out a long breath and relaxed back onto the bed, and Scorpius took
this as his cue to let go. After a moment, Albus rolled over onto his side,
then he pushed Scorpius’s left shoulder to indicate that he should now lie on
his back—then Albus sat up and was briefly straddling him so as to get over
onto the other side where he could use his right hand to touch Scorpius. After
they had effectively switched places, Albus grabbed Scorpius’s right hand and
ran his palm and fingers over it to transfer the wetness—that was a very clever
idea, Scorpius managed to think for a fraction of a second—then Albus
unceremoniously reached down and started stroking him.
Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to slow himself down a bit
because looking at Albus and touching Albus and having Albus touching him was
so overstimulating that he thought he might just faint of too much. Albus
seemed to recognise that Scorpius was having a bit of a problem.
“It’s okay if it’s really quick...I don’t mind,” he whispered.
Good to hear, Scorpius thought (though he was pretty sure that what came out of
his mouth was "Uh huh"), because he didn’t think he could hold out for much
longer than a few more seconds—he wasn’t used to starting with a warm, wet
hand—especially not one that didn’t belong to him, and it felt so
overwhelmingly, unbelievably incredible that he knew it was going to be over
extremely soon. The idea of having Albus watch hisface, however, was much less
appealing than it had been when it was the other way round, so he reached up
and pulled Albus down for a messy kiss and then he felt like he was
exploding—it went on and on for so long that he was starting to legitimately
worry that he might actually continue in this manner until he died, but he was
having trouble coming up with any concrete reasons why that would be a bad
thing—and then he sort of wound down and floated back into himself and
collapsed back onto the pillows with a huff.
Albus let out a low whistle and Scorpius somehow managed to open his eyes (his
body was demanding sleep) only to see Albus looking very impressed and pleased
with himself. He nodded and smirked—that smirk again—and then snuggled up into
Scorpius’s side and tucked his head into his neck. Scorpius could have happily
laid there until the summer holidays (where they would just go back home and do
the same thing there), but two things were drawing his immediate attention:
one, there was kind of a mess of wet stickiness everywhere now (literally
exactly twice the amount of mess he was accustomed to, he realised), and two,
their dorm mates would certainly not be pleased to find them curled up naked
together in bed tomorrow morning. So Scorpius kissed Albus on top of his head,
gathered all his physical strength and willpower, and attempted to disengage.
Albus tightened his arms around Scorpius in response.
“Stay,” he murmured into Scorpius’s neck. Scorpius wished more than anything to
comply.
“As much as I’d love to,” he said ruefully, “and believe me when I say there is
nothing else I want more than to fall asleep right here with you, what happens
when everybody wakes up tomorrow and finds us here together?”
“We’ll get out of bed after they leave,” Albus reassured him, “Are your
hangings drawn?”
Scorpius nodded.
“Then put your clothes back on and stay here,” said Albus firmly, as though
this were decided, and he pulled Scorpius’s shirt out from underneath himself
and tossed it in Scorpius’s face.
Scorpius grabbed his wand and cleaned them up—did Albus just not clean up after
himself? Was Scorpius the only one in this relationship who thought it was
gross to sleep in sticky, crusty sheets? —and pulled his pyjamas back on as
Albus rummaged under the bed for his shirt, then started to dress as well. It
was a shame, really, Scorpius thought, as Albus pulled the threadbare Harpies
tee shirt over his head, covering up all that lovely skin—Scorpius would just
as soon Albus never get dressed again. Unless he wants to put his dress robes
back on, that is, Scorpius corrected himself in his own thoughts, that would be
more than fine with me. 
Albus cuddled right back up into him and Scorpius could fight sleep no longer.
“Love you,” Albus whispered sleepily, and Scorpius felt the breath from the
words ghosting over his throat, and that was the last thing he remembered
before morning light.
End Notes
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