Fic: Beautiful - Harry/Scorpius

Title: Beautiful
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Warnings: Chan 16-18. PWP.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,872
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This is for 

mayflo who requested Lolita!Scorpius with Harry.  I hope you enjoy it!!  

 

( Beautiful )

 

Al Potter tucked into his eggs and bacon, completely unaware of the heated looks his best friend was giving his father. He grumbled through a mouthful of food, bemoaning the terrible run of luck the Harpies were having lately, and Scorpius made quiet noises of agreement, but Harry couldn’t have cared less. What he did care about, very passionately, was making it through his porridge without getting an erection.

 

Harry reached for his juice and caught Scorpius staring again. Wincing internally, he tightened his grip on the glass and forced a polite smile.  Scorpius continued to watch as Harry brought the tumbler to his mouth, and Harry would have looked away, most assuredly, if Scorpius hadn’t lifted his fork and poked out his tongue, licking the dribbling egg yolk from the tines with excruciating tardiness.   Harry took a large gulp of his pumpkin juice and promptly choked on it. While Al slapped Harry on the back, Scorpius smirked and returned his attention to his plate.

 

***

 

“For the love of Merlin, Al! Couldn’t you have made friends with someone normal?” Harry whispered heatedly, after Scorpius had excused himself from the table and gone to use the bathroom.

 

“He is normal!” Al hissed back, “and you only hate him because he’s a Malfoy.”

 

Harry snatched the newspaper and ignored the feeble protest of his son. “I don’t hate him because he’s a Malfoy, Al, I don’t hate him at all, he’s just – “

 

Harry searched for an appropriate word, but the only ones his brain offered up were entirely unsuitable. He could hardly confess that his grievance with the blond teenager was an astounding overabundance of flirtatiousness, or that Scorpius was all too aware of how uncomfortable his blatant sexuality made Harry.

 

“ – strange.” Harry finished lamely.

 

Al tutted and swiped the last piece of toast. “So?”

 

“So?! Al, he – he wears a skirt for Gods sakes, in what realm is that normal behaviour for a seventeen year old boy?”

 

Al stared at Harry like he’d obviously been in a coma for the past five years, but no one had noticed, which therefore explained why he had little to no understanding of current fashion trends.

 

“It’s not a skirt, dad, it’s a kilt. Everyone wears them.”

 

“You don’t,” Harry shot back, flicking through the pages with a speed that clearly demonstrated his irritation. Al rolled his eyes and slathered an unhealthy amount of Limeberry jam on his toast.  When enough time had passed, and Harry realised he wasn’t going to be given an explanation, he changed tact.

 

“How long is he staying for, anyway?”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr Potter, I didn’t mean to be any trouble. Shall I call Father and have him pick me up early?”

 

Harry flinched and counted to ten before peering over the top of the newspaper, whereupon spotting Scorpius hovering in the doorway, he flinched again.

 

The boy radiated sensuality to the point of being toxic. His long, thin legs, smooth and unmarked by the trials of rough and tumble sport, sustained a supple, gently muscled frame. One delicate hand covered a shrewd smile, and the other rested lightly on the chiselled curve of his hipbone. The anodyne blond hair, cut razor sharp along his jaw line, turned to the palest gold when he stepped into the sunlit kitchen.  

 

Far from being distressed by the snippet of conversation he’d overheard, Scorpius appeared completely unfazed. Al, however, had a disgusted sneer on his face that was shockingly reminiscent of the man Harry had named him after. Unable to look either of them in the face, Harry mumbled an incoherent apology and fled for work.

 

***

The day had been long, and Harry sank into the warm water with a hiss of relief. Closing his eyes, he bent his knees and slid his bum along the white ceramic until he was completely submerged. The familiar sounds of the house were instantly subdued, and with the strange, otherworldly tranquillity came a feeling of relaxation that Harry knew he didn’t experience anywhere near often enough. He ran a weightless hand through his waterlogged hair and held his breath for as long as possible, but all too soon his lungs complained, and he broke the surface with a gasp.

 

Harry shook his head to dislodge the water in his ears, and blinked just in time to see Scorpius leaning back against the door, the latch clicking quietly into place. 

 

“Er – “ Harry said.

 

Scorpius said nothing, nor did he show any inclination to leave again.

 

 Feeling distinctly uneasy, Harry covered his groin with a flannel. “Scorpius – I’m – ah – I’m in the bath,” he pointed out.

 

“Mmm, I noticed,” Scorpius said, in a tone which, under any other circumstances, Harry could have sworn sounded approving. But that was sheer folly. Scorpius was his son’s best friend. Scorpius was the spawn of Draco Malfoy. Scorpius was...was...

 

Dear Merlin...Scorpius was unbuttoning his shirt.

 

“Ah, what – what are you doing?” Harry asked nervously, horrified when his cock twitched in appreciation of the vision being unveiled before him. The alabaster skin and rose pink nipples left Harry feeling weak and overheated.

 

Scorpius smirked and hung his shirt on the door. “Would you like me to leave? We’re used to communal bathing at Hogwarts, but if I’m making you uncomfortable – “

 

No wonder he was a Slytherin, Harry thought. And where exactly did he think he was going to communally bathe? And where the hell was Al?

 

“There’s only one bath,” Harry said stupidly, indicating the length of his body as responsible for taking up most of it.

 

Scorpius dropped his steely gaze to the flannel and smiled. It reminded Harry of a shark. “Um, no offence Mr Potter, but I wasn’t planning on getting in with you. May I use the sink to wash?”

 

Harry blinked a few times and croaked out an affirmative. Scorpius looked bemused and nodded his thanks, and Harry slid under the water, intent on drowning himself.   When his self-preservation instinct kicked in and he resurfaced, Scorpius was bent over the hand basin, splashing water on his face. Harry couldn’t help but follow the line of evenly spaced vertebrae that made up the delectable curve of Scorpius’ spine. 

 

Not only was it ridiculous for a boy to wear a kilt, Harry reflected, closely observing the offending garment, but it was completely outrageous to do so in polite company without underwear. Harry wanted to kick himself for glancing between the coltish, ivory legs, where perfect, round testicles hung, the hem of the kilt barely covering the boy’s buttocks. 

 

Stifling a groan, Harry slipped a hand beneath the washcloth and pushed his rampant cock down, trapping it between his thighs. It was hideously uncomfortable, but better to suffer that than Draco Malfoy’s wrath if Scorpius noticed Harry’s reaction to his state of undress. 

 

Scorpius brushed his teeth silently and Harry tried to think of something to say, but by the time he’d formulated a reasonably articulate sentence, the boy was wiping his mouth on a towel.

 

“Goodnight, Mr Potter,” he said, brushing back a few damp strands of blond that were plastered to his forehead, “I hope you sleep well.”

 

Harry managed a nod, letting out a long sigh when Scorpius finally left and closed the door as softly as he had when he’d entered. Giving it all of five seconds, Harry whipped away the flannel and wanked himself silly, too worked up to properly care if one of the boys happened to walk past and hear the frantic splashing as his rigid cock repeatedly broke the surface of the tepid water. With the shadowy image of dark green tartan flashing through his mind, Harry muffled a curse and came.

 

***

 

Sleep continued to evade Harry into the early hours, until he couldn’t stand the restlessness any longer. Pulling his dressing gown on, he crept downstairs and let himself into the study. He tried reading, but the words jumped about on the page and made no sense. He attempted to get drunk but after two glasses of Firewhisky he began to feel nauseous. He turned on the wireless but the wee hours of the morning broadcasted nothing more interesting than a detailed explanation of which Wizarding laws were due to be put before the Wizengamot in the upcoming weeks. Even the various portraits were fast asleep, snoring in their frames. He thought about writing letters to James and Lily, but they were on holiday with the Weasley clan, and knowing how vindictive his ex-wife was, she’d probably intercept his missives anyway. Al, bless him, had staunchly refused to accompany his mother and her family on their annual vacation to Egypt, choosing to spend time with Harry instead.

 

Giving the night up as a lost cause, Harry went to the kitchen for a glass of water and then made his way back upstairs. He had almost made it to his bed when the doorknob turned. Instinctively, Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside table and took aim.

 

A willowy outline slipped through the door, and took several steps towards Harry. Fractured shards of moonlight poured through the ill-fitting curtains, painting the nude form silver. Harry swayed under the sudden rush of adrenaline and lowered his wand, mesmerized and petrified all at once.

 

“What’s the matter? Is Al okay?” he asked hurriedly, for surely it was the only rational explanation for Scorpius appearing in his bedroom completely and utterly naked in the middle of the night.

 

Scorpius tilted his head back slightly, exposing the cream column of his neck. “Al’s fast asleep.”

 

“Oh. Right, good.” Harry pulled the dressing gown tighter around him, and glanced back at the bed. 

 

“I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” Scorpius said lightly, and before Harry knew it, the boy was practically nose to nose with him. Which also meant –

 

Harry swallowed painfully and debated his options. If they stayed in such close proximity much longer, their noses wouldn’t be the only thing touching.

 

“Scorpius – “ he began, searching for a way to avoid the intense gaze of almond shaped eyes, “I don’t think this is – I don’t know what you – “

 

The gentle touch of lips against his own decimated Harry’s ability to speak, and moments later when Scorpius reluctantly pulled away, Harry tried to follow on the tips of his toes.

 

“Mr Potter,” Scorpius breathed heavily, touching the back of his hand to his mouth, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

 

Harry thought he might be physically shaking, but his mind was focused on other things, like the unbelievably arousing sight of Scorpius’ erect cock pressed hard against his stomach. Harry’s hand itched to reach out and stroke it, but he kept it firmly by his side and balled it into a fist instead. 

 

“I think you should go to bed,” Harry said, with more conviction than he felt. 

 

“I think we should go to bed,” Scorpius replied, moving fluidly past him and slipping between the covers.

 

Heart in mouth, Harry turned around and watched Scorpius recline against the pillow, propped up on one elbow with only the flimsiest of sheets draped across his groin. His erection was still obscenely obvious through the thin cotton percale, and Harry was at a loss to resist such deliberate temptation. 

 

He felt ridiculously vulnerable when the dressing gown pooled at his ankles, exposing his body to the boy’s hungry gaze. Scorpius whimpered softly and lifted the sheet, and Harry’s feet moved of their own accord, propelling him into slender arms.

 

“I’ll be thrown in Azkaban,” Harry moaned, as Scorpius nibbled his lip and coaxed his mouth open.

 

“I’ll break you out,” the boy murmured, slipping his tongue into the wet heat.

 

“Your father will kill me before the trial,” Harry smiled, mapping each fleck of silver that affected the grey irises.

 

“He’ll have to get past me first,” Scorpius whispered, nudging Harry’s head back with his chin and mouthing his way down Harry’s throat.

 

Harry couldn’t help it; he closed his eyes. Scorpius shifted beside him, the warm weight suddenly leaving his side as Scorpius straddled him, positioned so that Harry’s erection lay tightly nestled in the heated cleft of his arse. Leaning forward with a distinctly feral grin, Scorpius gave his buttocks a firm clench, squeezing Harry’s heated flesh before returning his undivided attention to Harry’s collar bone.

 

He traced the path of kisses with his fingertips, caressing the blushing skin as he descended lower, flicking Harry’s nipple with the tip of his tongue. Harry moaned and skimmed his hands over the supple back, reaching the firm curve of Scorpius arse and his own cock.

 

 “Gods, yeah,” the boy sighed, further spreading his legs to accommodate Harry’s curious fingers. They dipped into the stretched crevice and ran teasingly light over his hole, before dropping down to fondle the most perfect example of testicles Harry had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Lightly dusted with fine, pale hair, Scorpius moaned around Harry’s  in pleasure as Harry rolled each one carefully, letting his thumb slide back and forth over the boy’s perineum.

 

Harry wrapped a hand around his cock and rubbed it against the puckered opening, smearing the delicate tissue with pre-come. Scorpius jerked forward, hissing as his prick warmed from the friction of sliding over Harry’s stomach. 

 

“I want to feel you inside, hot and hard, just for me,” he murmured, rocking his hips. Harry bit his lip and tucked a fallen strand of blond hair behind the boy’s ear.

 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered, pulling Scorpius down into another searing kiss, “so much.”

 

Scorpius whimpered when Harry moved his hand away, reaching for the bedside table and fumbling the drawer open. He didn’t want to ask if this was Scorpius’ first time, it didn’t matter anyway because Harry planned to go as slow as his lover needed him to. But it was Scorpius who demanded more fingers, head falling back as Harry thrust them inside, desperate to keep his raging desire in check. And after Harry had pressed a third finger through the ring of muscle, it was Scorpius again who lifted his hips and reached behind to grasp Harry’s cock, holding it still as he lowered himself down. 

 

Following the line of his body, Harry could see himself sliding deeper, could feel the vice like grip of Scorpius’ passage clutching him, grasping desperately as he pulled out and rejoicing when he slammed back in. Harry hadn’t meant to be quite so rough; Scorpius on top was perfect for letting the boy ride him at his own pace, but he just couldn’t help it. Scorpius, far from minding, panted a rapid succession of breathless ‘oh’s’ each time Harry renewed his firm grip on Scorpius’ hips and bucked into him. Scorpius flattened his palms against Harry’s chest, each thumb circling a nipple as he found the perfect rhythm, rising and falling. His cock bounced as he moved, and Harry relinquished control of Scorpius’ hips to travel the slender waist, fingers tangling in the neat triangle of blond pubes, circling the base of the smooth, silky shaft, flushed a mouth-watering shade of engorged pink.

 

“I’m going to come all over you,” Scorpius told him on the crest of a moan, locking eyes with Harry when his thumb caressed the shiny head, swiping glistening precome away and sucking it into his mouth. Harry savoured the sharp taste before releasing the digit with a soft popping sound.

 

“And I’m going to come inside you,” Harry promised, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. The almost unbearably perfect way they fit to each other, the eroticism of watching his cock slide into the latent heat and welcoming tightness of the boy was devastating.  Scorpius’ prick pulsed in Harry’s firm grasp, and Harry braced his feet and drove himself upwards, thrilled to hear the sudden cry his hitting of Scorpius’ prostate caused.

 

“Do it again,” Scorpius gasped, writhing with shameless abandon. His cheeks looked to have been splashed with the faintest hint of crimson, forehead shiny with sweat and Harry very much wanted to pull him down and lick the perfect O shape his mouth had contracted into.

 

“Fuck, so close,” Harry growled, another punishing drive making Scorpius’ face twist in pleasure. Harry gripped the boy’s cock and fisted it hard.

 

“Watch me,” Scorpius groaned, slamming down to take Harry’s entire length inside, then thrusting forwards into his hand, “watch me come all over you.”

 

Harry felt Scorpius’ orgasm before he saw the thick spurts spatter his belly. The walls around his cock closed down and wrenched his own climax from him, Scorpius’ name on his lips as the boy rode him hard, drawing every last ounce of fluid out of Harry and into his body.    

 

Harry wasn’t sure if he’d passed out or not, but when he opened his eyes, wide grey orbs loomed large before him.

 

“That was – “ he trembled, carding a hand through the wild tangle of blond hair falling around his face.

 

“Beautiful,” Scorpius breathed, and captured his lips once more.

***