The hex narrowly missed Score's head and he dove aside in a delayed reaction before throwing a venomous glare toward Albus, who had already disappeared behind a stand of oak trees. The bastard was pulling no punches.

Auror training, Scorpius grumbled to himself. What on earth possessed me to become an Auror? Probably the fact that his father had not wanted him to, the usual teenaged rebellion and all. Some of it was great. He loved the research and the investigative work. He did not enjoy the field "games" at all. Scorpius had a slight frame and he was not particularly tall, something the larger, burlier Aurorlings used to their advantage whenever possible.

Scorpius had the sudden urge to move and he bolted, shoving himself through a tiny gap in a row of bushes, and barely avoiding another hex, this one aqua-tinted. The spell singed through the branches of a nearby tree with a whining sound and Scorpius felt a flare of rage. He knew what that spell did. Fucking Potter!

Suddenly determined to best the prat, who was apparently taking this "opposing team" business far too seriously, Scorpius cast a rapid sequence of spells that left decoy sounds stumbling through the brush in his stead. Meanwhile, Scorpius, draped in Glamour Charms and a Flying Spell, sailed up and over the forest, eyes scanning the ground for the black-haired man.

Potter was brash and impulsive, but not stupid. Definitely not stupid. It took Scorpius some time to find him. Once Scorpius' decoy spells died away, Potter emerged, heading in the direction of the last rustle. Scorpius barely suppressed a gasp of surprise when he saw Potter almost directly below him, jogging several silent steps before pressing himself tightly against the bark of a tree.

Scorpius hovered for a moment, struck by the sight. It wasn't fair that someone so downright wicked should be so undeniably attractive. Scorpius frowned, trying to negate the foolish idea. Potter's black hair was far too thick, hanging over his eyes until it was a wonder he could even see. Even now the man jerked his head, flipping the dark bangs away from eyes the colour of… Pond scum, Scorpius told himself sharply. Not emeralds. Not spring leaves. Pond. Scum. Which, admittedly, was still pretty fucking green.

He mentally kicked himself and watched as Potter detached his incredible, lithe, too-tall, too-lean, too-perfect body from the shelter of the tree and moved quietly into the open, stalking like a jungle cat, looking for Scorpius.

Here I am, Potter, he thought viciously and launched himself downward. He angled himself at the last moment and his left shoulder slammed into Potter's back with a painful thud, sending Potter sprawling forward with Scorpius atop him.

"Expelliarmus!" Scorpius yelled, even though he could barely think through the wrenching pain in his shoulder. The wand flew from Potter's hand and into the brush. Scorpius lifted his body slightly only to slam it against Potter's back . His left hand twisted into the mass of dark hair at the nape of Potter's neck. "Bastard! Were you trying to fucking kill me?"

Not surprisingly, Potter laughed. The sound caused him to shift beneath Scorpius' body and his hand gripped more tightly. Potter was bigger and stronger and could most likely shake him off with little effort. Scorpius pressed his wand into Potter's throat to halt that notion.

Potter only laughed again, a deep, husky sound that tore at Scorpius. "I'm helpless. What do you plan to do with me now, Scorpius?"

The words, teasing and suggestive, rolled over him. Fuck. Why did he have to be attracted to men, and especially to infuriating Albus Potter? He knew Potter was only being flirtatious to be an arse. The prat had been seen often enough around town on the arm of a blond witch and rumour had it they were to be married.

"I plan to hex you unconscious and leave you here for the elements," Scorpius said through clenched teeth.

"No, you don't, or you would have already," Potter said placidly. Scorpius wanted to scream, mostly because Potter was right. The calm voice went on, "Can I at least turn over? My liver is being bisected by a rather large pointy stone."

The honest realization that he did not plan to hurt Potter at all caused Scorpius to sigh heavily and nod. He released his hold on Potter's hair, ignoring the softness of it, and pushed away. He kept the wand inches from Potter's throat, however.

Potter leisurely rolled over and then moved so quickly Scorpius thought the world had gone into slow motion. Potter's feet kicked out and he twisted his body up, grappling with Scorpius. One hand gripped Scorpius on the wrist of his wand hand, the other snatched his left bicep. The world tipped and the breath rushed out of his lungs as he slammed into the ground with Potter atop him.

A spell hurled itself to Scorpius' lips, but before he could utter it, Potter yanked the wand from his hand with a smug grin.

Scorpius froze as Potter dangled the wand over his face, holding it nonchalantly between his index finger and thumb. Potter tsked. "Scorpius Malfoy. Whatever will you do, now?"

Scorpius snatched at the wand, but Potter jerked it out of reach before casting a spell. Scorpius struggled to free himself from Potter's weight, recognizing the spell, but it was too late. Sinuous bonds wrapped themselves around his wrists and forearms, forcing them to the ground despite his efforts. He stopped pulling on them, knowing they were the roots of nearby bushes and trees—they would not be broken easily. He closed his eyes and waited for Potter to administer the coup de grace, assuming he would be Stunned and left to make his way back to Headquarters late and alone, once he determined how to free himself from the makeshift ropes.

Nothing happened for long moments, so Scorpius snapped his eyes open to see Potter looking down at him with a thoughtful expression. The warmth of Potter's body seemed to burn through Scorpius' robes from where the man sat on his lower abdomen.

Potter's expression was indefinable. Scorpius nearly gasped aloud when he felt a finger trail gently over his collarbone. Scorpius stared at him in bewilderment.

"You know, Scorpius, it might be amusing to leave you here in the altogether," Potter mused and then Summoned his own wand with a quick spell before tucking both lengths of wood away into his maroon trainee robes.

"What?" Scorpius choked.

For reply, Potter began to unfasten the bronze-coloured buttons that held Scorpius' robes together.

"You can't be serious," Scorpius said hotly, struggling despite himself as he fought a blush. To lie helpless and bound beneath Albus Potter would be… Well, it would be a fantasy under most circumstances, but in this particular situation it would only be humiliating.

"Oh, but I am serious," Potter said in a purring tone as his fingers moved closer and closer to his own crotch—something Scorpius could not allow himself to think about at all. The slightest hint of arousal would be immediately obvious to Potter in his present position. Scorpius blocked out the sound of his voice, as well. The timbre of it was purely sexual.

Rather than move and continue to work on unfastening the robes, Potter's fingers rose to Scorpius' throat and started on the buttons of his shirt, instead. As more and more flesh was exposed to the cool air, Scorpius struggled for something to say. There had to be some way to stop the maniac.

"Potter—" he tried.

"You know, Scorpius, you have a perfect chest," Potter cut in almost conversationally. At Scorpius' obviously blank look, Potter nodded. "Yes, I have noticed. Three times, actually. The first was at Hogwarts."

Scorpius found himself at a loss for words again. Potter had noticed him at Hogwarts? He had noticed Potter, of course, Quidditch star and progeny of the famous Harry Potter. Everyone had noticed.

"It was in Potions class, actually," Potter went on and his fingers grazed Scorpius' skin as they moved inexorably downward. "Someone spilled something on you; probably Ericson, he was always fumble-fingered. It must have been toxic, because you shrugged out of your robe and shirt so quickly I always wondered if you had Vanished them. Your skin was so pale it looked like alabaster."

Scorpius grimaced at the memory. It had been Ericson, the bloody fool. Scorpius had been lucky to escape burn scars. It had been frightfully embarrassing, standing before the entire class in only his trousers as gooseflesh broke out over his body—he knew he was ghost-pale. Even now, with more exposure to the sun than he'd ever received, he was still frightfully fair.

"The second time was our first day of Auror Training," Albus went on. He lifted himself slightly on his knees only to tug roughly at the cloth beneath him, exposing the last few buttons of Scorpius' robes, and pulling the hem of his shirt free of his trousers. He continued to speak as he settled himself once more. "Fitting for our robes, remember?"

Scorpius remembered, mostly because he had devoured the sight of Potter's bare skin, so tanned and toned and fit, but marred with small scars here and there that only piqued Scorpius' curiosity. The tailor had clinically taken the measurements of their upper bodies—the lower portions did not matter, but for length, due to the skirtlike nature of the design. Potter had seemed nonchalant and amused—he had never once glanced in Scorpius' direction, to his recollection.

Scorpius' robes and shirt fell open suddenly and he inhaled sharply. Potter's eyes slid over him, leaving a blush wherever they touched his skin. Fuck, he felt completely naked.

"The third time was last week," Potter continued in a voice that sounded far too husky to be anything but approval. "In the field. If I'd known the heat could make you take your clothes off, I would have asked for assignments in the most sweltering places in Britain."

It had been a blisteringly hot day, Scorpius remembered, but the memory fled the moment Potter put his hands on his chest, splaying his fingers over it as if intending to press Scorpius into the ground, except there was no pressure behind the touch.

A smile curved Potter's lips. "Perfection like this, Scorpius, should never be concealed." His hands moved then, slowly, curving down over his pectorals and brushing over Scorpius' nipples with his thumbs. He paused there to repeat the motion, flicking his thumbs again over the hard peaks and sending a jolt straight to Scorpius' cock, which was far too interested in Potter's bizarre behaviour.

Scorpius struggled to find his voice. He had to make Potter stop. He had to make him stop undressing him and touching and him and, for Merlin's sake, stop using his first name.

Potter's movements were unhurried, as though he waited for Scorpius to act on the thoughts swirling through his head.

"Potter," Scorpius finally choked out, but to his horror the sound emerged as a throaty growl, not at all conducive to halting the man's activities.

Potter groaned and leaned forward until his face pushed into the curve of Scorpius' neck. Hot breath skated over Scorpius' throat and then warm lips touched him for a moment before opening and fastening over Scorpius' pulse point—tasting his heartbeat?

"What are you doing?" Scorpius whispered, finally able to produce sound, albeit with great effort.

"I want to touch you, Scorpius," Potter said and the sound of his voice combined with the heat of his breath made Scorpius shiver. "I want to touch you everywhere."

Thus rendered inarticulate once more, Scorpius could only clench his fingers tightly around the strong roots that bound his hands, and whimper as Potter made good his words. Calloused hands moved over his chest with more purpose and Potter sat up once more. Scorpius glared at him through half-lidded eyes, expecting to meet a smug expression, but Potter's fine features were serious.

"I'll stop whenever you say the word," Potter added quietly and Scorpius knew he should. He should say the word and stop Potter, send him back to his blond fiancé and leave Scorpius to his unrequited—but safe—fantasies.

But then it was too late, because the words and the touching and the look of intense concentration in those green eyes were too much, because Scorpius was hard and Albus Potter had just noticed. The intense gaze shifted into something positively feral and Scorpius tried to swallow through a suddenly dry throat. He tried to make words, knowing he needed to stop Potter. He had to stop him, because anything Potter did would only cause Scorpius to want him more, and already the pain of it made him think about quitting the Auror Training Program a dozen times a day.

Potter moved, stretching his long limbs and altering his position until he lay between Scorpius' legs—which he had shoved apart roughly with his booted feet, likely earning Scorpius a bruise or two and nearly shaking loose the arrested protest, until Potter's weight settled on Scorpius' erection, crushing it with a matching hardness.

Merlin. Before Scorpius could even process the fact that Albus Potter was turned on because of him, Potter made a curious, near-moaning noise and twitched his hips, sending a jolt of pleasure spiking through Scorpius. He bit his lip on an answering sound, but it became redundant when Potter's mouth crashed down on his.

The kiss was more unexpected than the undressing, and if Scorpius had any resistance left it would have vanished beneath the onslaught. Potter could kiss like no one else, apparently, which was so unfair Scorpius would have railed at the injustice, except that Potter's talent was focused solely on him at the moment and Scorpius had no complaints about that at all, especially when Potter's tongue seemed determined to test the flavour of every hidden corner of Scorpius' mouth.

When Potter finally pulled away, he looked down at Scorpius for only a moment. His seemed almost dazed and his lips were glistening and pink. He dipped his dark head and moved downward, removing his erection from its lovely position, but Scorpius whimpered when Potter's hot mouth fastened over an exposed nipple. His talented tongue flicked over it and then toyed with it, alternately licking and sucking until Scorpius thought he should be able to tear the roots from the ground with the sheer force of his grip.

Potter lavished the same treatment on the other nipple, so thoroughly that Scorpius did not notice Potter unfastening his trousers until a hand gripped his cock, tearing a cry from Scorpius and causing Potter to lift his head and smirk at him.

"Want me to stop?" Potter whispered. His voice should have been smug, but something in the tone wrenched at Scorpius. Combined with the light stroking of Potter's thumb over his erection, it was impossible to resist.

"No," Scorpius admitted.

Relief flashed over Potter's features, gone so quickly Scorpius thought he might have imagined it.

"Good," said Potter and began to press soft, hot kisses into Scorpius' torso, working his way downward in a slow line that sent Scorpius' pulse racing higher with every inch. His fingers continued to stroke, until they were joined by Potter's lips. Scorpius bucked his hips, unable to stop himself, and earned a chuckle from the devilish man.

Potter swallowed him whole and Scorpius kept from thrusting upward only by Potter holding his hips in place with both hands. Scorpius threw his head back, unable to take the sight of Albus Potter sucking his cock—not without coming on the spot.

Even with that, it was a near thing. Potter's tongue was amazing. Either he was no stranger to giving blow jobs, or he had an innate gift of knowing exactly how to lick, suck, and twist to drive Scorpius wild.

Just when Scorpius thought he couldn't hold his orgasm back for another moment, Potter lifted his head. Scorpius nearly sobbed.

"I want to fuck you, Scorpius," he said calmly.

Scorpius wanted to think about it. He wanted to consider the options and weigh the pros and cons. He wanted to ask about the blonde fiancé and Potter's motives. But even more than that, he simply wanted Albus Potter. "Yes," he said in a barely audible murmur.

Potter gasped. His verdant eyes were wide with surprise. "Did you say—?"

"Yes, Potter. Damn it, yes, yes, yes. Now can you get on with it?"

Wisely, Potter did not give him time to change his mind. He pulled out a wand and cast several spells in succession, some of which made Scorpius raise his eyebrows, wondering where the hell he had learned them.

Within moments, they were both nude from the waist down, Scorpius' arsehole felt slick, stretched, and somewhat tingly, and—somewhat reluctantly on Potter's part, it seemed—Scorpius' arms were freed of their restraints.

Scorpius flexed his numb fingers, but quickly forgot the discomfort of returning circulation when Potter used both hands to spread his arse cheeks wide, just before pressing his cock slowly inside. Scorpius gasped and raised his hands to clutch at Potter's shoulders, trying not to gouge the man, but quite unprepared for the sensation of being stretched and filled and taken.

"Scorpius," Potter said thickly, staring at him with a furrowed brow. "Merlin, you're so… perfect. Are you all right?"

Scorpius nodded, even though he was a far cry from all right. He knew he would probably never be all right again, because Albus Potter was perfect and this was perfect, even with twigs digging into his back through the trainee robes he still partially wore, and even with his wrists bruised and aching, and even with dirt and forest mulch in his hair, it was all perfect because he had wanted Albus Potter forever, and for these few moments he belonged to Scorpius.

"I'm fine," he said with only a slight hitch in his voice to betray his heightened emotional state. His fingers relaxed slightly and one found its way upward to slip into Potter's jet black hair and pull him down for a kiss.

Potter sighed against his lips and started to move, startling Scorpius and causing him to tense up for a moment, until he realized relaxation would probably make it easier. The movements were not painful, probably due to Potter's preparatory spellwork, but the whole thing was unfamiliar and invasive, and slightly terrifying.

But also, amazing. Potter alternated kisses with gasps, low moans, and barely audible phrases that mostly consisted of variations of Scorpius' name, along with breathy yeses, ohs, and something that sounded like ungh. Scorpius knew precisely what that one meant, because soon the discomfort faded, replaced by indescribable sensations that left Scorpius babbling nonsense words of his own.

Every movement of Potter's body sent shockwaves through Scorpius, radiating out from the very core of his being. The pressure in his cock built once more and every dragging motion of Potter's abdomen against the head of his prick brought him closer to the brink, until one particularly astounding thrust turned his world white.

Scorpius screamed into Potter's mouth, suddenly glad that the noise had been muffled, lest it draw other curious trainees toward their locale—something that Scorpius had not really considered while giving his foolish consent to Potter.

Potter's fingers dug even more sharply into Scorpius' hips, but he did not bother to protest, entirely wrapped up in the feel of Potter coming deep inside of him. Scorpius had never felt more marked—more owned—than he did at that moment, feeling Albus Potter shuddering atop him and muffling his whimpered cries with Scorpius' lips.

Potter dropped onto him like a dead weight, releasing his hips and tucking his face into Scorpius' neck. Reality began to flood back into Scorpius and his faculties came online, mimicking the slow boot up of a Muggle computer.

Merlin, what have I done? he thought with a growing sense of panic. I allowed Albus Potter to fuck me. If not for Potter's head buried in the side of his throat, Scorpius would have flung a hand over his eyes to block out the daylight and the knowledge that he would never escape Potter's knowing, smug glances. He would have to quit the Auror Division. There was no hope for it.

Even with that depressing rationalization crowding his senses, Scorpius felt a flash of something ridiculously warm and sentimental when Potter's lips pressed into his neck and his hands caressed Scorpius' ribs. He allowed his hands to slide over the firm ridges and bumps of Potter's back before sighing heavily.

"Regrets?" Potter asked suddenly.

Scorpius made a noncommittal sound and then said, "I'm not the one with a fiancé." He winced at his own words, which seemed bitter and accusatory.

Potter's head snapped up and he stared at Scorpius. "What?"

"Your fiancé. Half the Wizarding World saw you escorting that blonde girl all over London for the past month. Perhaps it isn't official yet, but everyone knows you two are an item."

Potter blinked at him and then asked, "Are you jealous?"

Scorpius glared. "Certainly not!" he snapped, but his arms tightened reflexively around Potter. He winced and made a mental note never to attempt to lie with someone's cock buried in his arse. Not that he planned to bottom ever again. This had been a one time fluke, and only because it was Albus Potter.

"I thought you hated me," Potter went on. He lifted a hand to touch the side of Scorpius' face in a tender gesture. Scorpius resisted the urge to push his cheek into Potter's palm, cursing himself for turning into a complete sap over a simple, meaningless motion.

He opened his mouth to declare his eternal hatred for Potter—despite his own advice about lying—when Potter cut him off.

"I'm not engaged. I don't even have a girlfriend. That was Dominique, my cousin. She's visiting from France and I'm showing her around because she's thinking about moving here. She thinks I'm an idiot. Rather like you."

Scorpius worked his jaw, but no sound emerged. The words not engaged kept banging about in his head, working their way into a frenzy.

Potter frowned. "You allowed me to do this, even though you thought I was engaged? Did you expect this to be a one-off?"

"We are in the middle of a forest and you tied me up! What did you think it was? The foundation for a steady relationship?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I think this could be the foundation for a steady relationship. I thought it was quite nice. Spectacular, even. Possibly even incredible."

"Possibly?" Scorpius demanded.

"Then you admit it was incredible?"

Scorpius blushed and looked away.

"No? Well, then, I demand a redo. Just to prove my point."

"A… a redo?"

Potter nodded. "Yes, I happen to be free later this afternoon."

Scorpius swallowed hard. Not engaged. "And if I'm still not convinced?" he asked.

"Well, then, I will just have to keep trying. Even if it takes six months. Or a year."

"Are you saying you want to date me?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Scorpius Malfoy. Very well, if that's what it will take to get you to admit that we are brilliant together, then, yes. I will date you. We should probably get cleaned up and report in to Headquarters, however, despite the fact that I wouldn't mind another round right here. Perhaps we can come back, later?"

Scorpius found himself nodding before he caught himself and shook his head. "No! This is not…" Romantic, he nearly said and then groaned, wondering how he had gotten himself into this situation. One moment he was being single-mindedly seduced by Albus Potter and the next they were having a completely insane discussion.

"No matter. I expect you to be a very high-maintenance boyfriend, so dinner it is. We'll discuss it on our way back." With that, Potter pulled out, cleaned them both up with a quick spell, and brought back their trousers from wherever they had Vanished.

Despite Scorpius' new status as "boyfriend", Potter did not give back his wand for three days, but by then Scorpius was very, very convinced that they were, indeed, brilliant together. 

End