Chapter Three
It had been a couple of weeks since Albus’s birthday, and the two men had settled into comfortable domesticity. On the surface, things were good between them, great even. But in Albus’s head, things were much less so.
He loved having Scorpius around. He’d missed him in those years they’d hardly talked, when they only seldomly sent letters to each other, letters which he’d kept stashed in a drawer ever since.
Albus had once suggested Scorpius get a cellphone so they could talk more, but the idea was quickly shot down. “Connor says they rot people’s brains,” he’d said, which was similar to the reason he’d stopped writing him. “Connor says I should be focused on real life experiences.”
I am a real life experience, Albus had thought.
Connor was always the reason for why they couldn’t talk, and looking back on it now, Albus could see that it might not have been Scorpius who had a problem with the way things were between them at all. Even still, he couldn’t help but feel insecure.
Maybe he was taking advantage of Scorpius’s vulnerability these past few weeks. Maybe Scorpius didn’t really want all of this closeness with him. Maybe that uncomfortable feeling would creep back up again; maybe it never really left, and Scorpius was just ignoring it for the time being. Maybe right now, he just needed someone, and once he’d healed, he would distance himself again.
There were a lot of maybes. And maybe Albus could just be a man and ask him, but he knew he’d never be brave enough. He was brave in a lot of ways, but when it came to his feelings for Scorpius, he was nothing but a coward.
“Hey, where’d you go?” asked Scorpius as he handed over a freshly rinsed basket of strawberries for Albus to slice.
“Sorry, just thinking,” Albus grumbled, shaking his head in an attempt to shake away the incessant thoughts. “How long was I out for?”
“I don’t know, maybe a couple of minutes? You had this really strange look in your eye.” Scorpius grabbed a slice of toasted bread and slathered a slightly too thick layer of butter on it as he spoke. “You looked a bit sad.”
He was a bit sad. He’d finally gotten his best friend back, and they were stood together in the kitchen preparing breakfast together as if nothing had ever changed—aside from the lack of magic aiding their endeavors. He should be happy, but he couldn’t help but think about what all of it meant. Where would they be a few months from now? Would everything change again? Would it be for the worse?
“Okay, I think I lost you again,” said Scorpius. He was behind Albus now, gripping his shoulders and rubbing firmly. “What’s going on, have I done something?”
Albus smiled half-heartedly. “No, of course not.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding seemingly unconvinced. “Do you want to watch a film tonight?”
As much as he’d love to spend another night-in together, he felt conflicted. They had been doing it a lot, and he feared he was taking advantage of the situation. “Actually, I was just thinking. Maybe we could go out tonight? I think it could be good for us to meet some new people. I won’t drink, I promise. You you can if you want to, though.”
Albus had been doing fairly well with his drinking lately, and he’d only faltered twice. He usually used alcohol as a crutch in the nighttime when he was powerless to shut off his thoughts, but Scorpius’s presence in the bed had mostly curbed his insomnia for the time being. He wondered how long it would last; he wondered if he should be relying on his best to keep him sober in the first place. Perhaps he was setting himself up for failure.
“Albus Severus Potter, are you trying to get rid of me?” Scorpius asked, mocking offense.
“No!” Albus protested. “I just, I dunno. Maybe you could use some fresh faces.”
“I’m perfectly happy with your face,” Scorpius assured. “But still, a night out could be nice. We can get our grooooove on,” he said as he pumped his fists in front of him and wiggled his hips suggestively.
“You know what? Maybe we should stay in after all. That was horrendous,” Albus laughed out. As goofy as Scorpius looked though, he really didn’t want him to stop. He loved seeing this side of his best friend, confident and free; it was a side that didn’t come around as often as it used to.
They ate breakfast sat closely together in front of the TV, watching a true crime documentary about a woman who’d been killed by her husband’s mistress. Albus shoved one last large bite of toast into his mouth before standing up. “Okay, any longer and I’m going to be late. Want to come along?” Albus asked. Scorpius responded by bouncing out of his seat and toward the door. “You should probably put some trousers on first,” Albus teased, watching a pink blush appear on his best friend’s cheeks.
Albus had been bringing Scorpius along to work nearly every day since he’d arrived, and today was no different. It was a Friday, his last day of work before the weekend, and also the least busy. He didn’t have much filing to do, and he’d had all of the returns put away within the first hour. Very few people came in, and majority of the ones who did had only wanted to use the printer.
“What is this?” Scorpius asked, holding up a freshly printed sheet of paper.
“Er, book report, I think,” Albus whispered, huddled in closely with Scorpius so only he could hear. Then he turned pointedly to the owner of the paper (who was now blushing furiously) and spoke firmly, “Scorpius, you’re not supposed to read them! Sorry, he’s new at this,” he said as he turned again, winking exaggeratedly at him before snatching the printout and handing it over to the patron. Scorpius’s head was hovering over Albus’s shoulder now, chest pressed lightly against his back. “And seems to lack boundaries,” he finished with a quiet chuckle. Scorpius pinched his hip in retaliation.
Their downtime was spent sitting together at the desk with a shared pair of wireless earbuds and listening quietly to an audiobook. Albus had introduced the concept a few days prior, after Scorpius had remarked that he wished there was a way to read books when his hands were busy. He’d been enamored by them ever since.
Around noon, after Scorpius had scurried off to use the bathroom, Sher came along to visit Albus behind the desk. She took a seat in one of the wheeling chairs and kicked off, gliding smoothly until she reached her intended target.
“Hey, Albus,” she said, coming to a stop next him. “How’s it going? Actually, know what? Let’s just skip the pleasantries and get to the good stuff.”
Albus shifted in his seat, turning to face her. “Get on with it then,” he said.
“I wanted to ask about Scorpius, actually. You told me he’s a, erm— ‘healer’, yes?”
Albus grimaced. “A nurse, yeah.” He remembered blaming the slip-up on being tired and forgetting the word ‘nurse.’
“Right, right. Well, is he planning on going back to that? I know you said he was only staying until he figured some things out, but…” she trailed off.
“I don’t know, why?”
“I wanted to offer him a job. He’s knowledgeable about books and seems to get along really well with the kids, and Janice just handed in her resignation last week, so we’re going to need a new story-time reader. You think he’d go for it?”
They hadn’t talked much about the future or what Scorpius had planned to do, or where he would go once he’d sorted his life out. He seemed to be taking things one day at a time, and Albus didn’t want to push him too much. “You’ll have to ask him that.”
“Ugh, you’re no help,” she groaned, swiveling around in her chair and resting her arms behind her head. “Whatever. Guess I’ll just wait here then.”
When Scorpius returned, Sher wasted no time getting to the point and essentially ambushed him. He seemed taken aback at first, fidgeting nervously as she spoke, but after she’d finished, Albus realized the fidgeting was excitement fueled.
Scorpius beamed as he accepted the position, which Albus didn’t find entirely surprising. Back when they were still at Hogwarts, Scorpius had always said if he couldn’t be a healer, he’d like to work in a library. Albus knew now that Scorpius probably wouldn’t like it as much as he thought he would because there wasn’t actually much reading involved in the job.
"I can’t believe it, we get to work together!" Scorpius squealed as they walked out of the building that evening; he was bouncing boisterously through the parking lot. “Oh, and it lines up perfectly with tonight’s plans, now we have something to celebrate!”
“Just try not to read every single thing someone asks you to print out, alright? Maybe limit yourself to a reasonable twice per day.” Albus couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his face; he hadn’t seen Scorpius this happy about anything in a long time, and it was something he’d grown to miss. Scorpius used to exude enough happiness for the both of them and more; at times he was almost irritatingly positive, but he’d lost some of that at some point during their time apart. Albus supposed it was hard to be a ray-of-sunshine when someone meant to love you was making it their life’s mission to beat you down.
After work, the pair stopped briefly at the flat so Scorpius could drop off his newest collection of library books, which he placed delicately on the coffee table. Afterward, he dashed to the bedroom to change into his favorite swampy green long-sleeve. Albus decided to stay in his ‘lucky’ deep purple jumper, the same one he’d been wearing for two days now. Scorpius had gifted it to him on his 17th birthday and he’d been obsessed with it ever since.
“Ready to go?” Albus asked with a small smile as he leaned against the front-doorframe. Scorpius nodded happily in reply, turning to look at Albus as he walked through.
—
“It’s really loud in here!” Albus tried his best to shout over the music. He’d only ever been to a club once; he usually opted for quiet bars. He’d always been a quiet type.
“Yeah, but the music is really nice!” Scorpius shouted back with a smile. They were stood right next to each other, but Albus could just barely hear him.
“Do you want a drink?” Albus suggested loudly. Scorpius gave him a strange look. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only going to have a lemonade!” he assured, and Scorpius nodded in response.
The pair headed up to the bar, and Albus ordered both of their drinks for them. It was much quieter there, so he didn’t have to yell as loudly.
“A strawberry margarita for my friend,” he started, giving Scorpius a pat on the back. “And I’ll just have a pink lemonade, thanks!” They toed off to the edge of the bar and waited, and about a minute later, the man returned with their drinks. Albus watched him offer a wink and a small nod to Scorpius, who didn’t seem to notice. He was immediately hit with a pang of jealousy. He’s not my boyfriend, Albus thought to himself.
They stood at the bar for a while. Albus was nursing his lemonade. Scorpius, meanwhile, was already on his third strawberry margarita. “Why don’t we go dance?” Albus had suggested in an attempt to slow him down.
He agreed, so they headed to the dance floor. Albus could tell that Scorpius was already drunk because he had a tendency to get a bit handsy. He should know, he had firsthand experience with it.
He was pressed up closely to Albus as they shuffled back and forth, one hand resting at his hip. Albus grabbed his hand and spun him around, and when Scorpius was facing him again, he was pressed even closer. Albus could feel his pelvis pushed up against his now. Any other time, he would’ve simply enjoyed the moment, but given his best friends inebriated state… it felt wrong. He’d only been doing it because he was drunk. Any other time, Scorpius surely wouldn’t have wanted this.
Albus shifted uncomfortably and grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away slightly to put some space between them. Scorpius looked confused; Albus smiled nervously.
Scorpius didn’t seem too bothered though, as he continued to dance happily with Albus for a long time afterward, until a trio of women appeared beside them.
“Would you guys like to dance with us!?” yelled one of the women. They all seemed to be looking at Scorpius instead of him, but he didn’t really mind. He needed a break, anyway, this night out wasn’t panning out the way he’d expected it to thus far.
Scorpius tilted his head at him. “You go ahead!” Albus shouted. “Have fun!” Scorpius looked disappointed but didn’t protest, and allowed himself to be whisked away by the girls.
Albus headed back to the quiet bar and sat lonely in his stool. He watched as Scorpius danced in the center of the group, looking beautiful as his head bobbed freely to the beat. Albus couldn’t help but smile; he loved seeing Scorpius like this, even if he did feel a bit left out. He looked happy, and Albus knew he deserved that.
As he sat alone, though, his imagination got the better of him. He thought of a life where he could dance with Scorpius in the way he’d wanted to; the same way Scorpius had been trying to earlier before he shut it down. He knew Scorpius wouldn’t have wanted it had he been sober, and he couldn’t allow himself to take advantage of the moment. He felt like a monster for even thinking about it, and smacked himself in the face to snap himself out of it.
“Whoa, Albus,” said a male voice from beside him. He quickly recognized it to be Michael’s. “Everything good?”
Albus didn’t look at him. “Fine,” he said simply, his eyes still fixed on Scorpius.
“If you say so. Nice sweater,” Michael said, grabbing him by the wrist. Albus looked at him then and shrugged him off, his eyes narrowed. “Sorry, I just wanted you to look at me for a second.”
Albus rolled his eyes, but didn’t look away.
“Yeah, so, I wanted to apologize for storming off. I tried texting you a few times, but I know you hardly ever check your phone, so…” Michael trailed off.
“Don’t be. It was my fault anyway, I should’ve canceled. I’m sorry about that.” Albus shifted uncomfortably. He really was sorry, he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.
“Yeah, probably. But I should’ve let you explain things before storming off like that. I should’ve trusted you more,” Michael sighed. “I miss hanging out with you.”
Albus cracked a small smile. “Yeah, I guess I do too. You provide great movie commentary.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “And is that all you’ve missed?” he asked with a sly smile.
Albus felt his cheeks go pink. “Er, well,” he coughed exaggeratedly. Michael was leaning toward him now. He was sure he’d try and make a move on him soon, he’d seen it before. But did he want that? It was fun to fool around with someone, but he couldn’t help but think of his best friend who was dancing happily only meters away. Albus knew there was nothing between them and there never could be—but for some reason, with Scorpius now back in his life, it felt like a betrayal.
Still, he argued with himself. Should he really be depriving himself of romance because he was stuck on a man he’d never have? He deserved to have a bit of fun too, didn’t he? Albus looked to Scorpius again, who hadn’t seemed to have noticed him since he left. He’d made up his mind.
He scooted his stool to be closer to Michael and leaned in, their faces only centimeters apart. “Kiss me,” he said simply.
Just as their lips grazed, Albus felt someone grab the collar of his jumper, shaking him. He gasped and pulled away from Michael, turning in his seat to see one of the women Scorpius had been dancing with. She was clearly very drunk, but she looked concerned. Albus looked to the left of her and saw Scorpius hunched over and clutching his stomach. He was also about two shades paler than usual, a real feat for him.
“He’s not feeling very well. I had to help him over,” she said loudly. “He says he wants to go home.”
“Alright,” Albus breathed. Before he could even think, he was standing up and rushing to his side, wrapping an arm firmly around his waist. “Let’s get you home, then.”
As he processed the situation, an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him. He’d left his best friend alone on the dance floor in a club he’d never been to, with a group of people he didn’t know (though they seemed nice enough), all so he could snog somebody else. What kind of friend was he?
“You’re a good friend,” said the woman, almost as if she’d just read his mind. “He really cares about you, you know, wouldn’t shut up about you.”
Albus looked to Scorpius and noticed he was blushing, or maybe he was just flushed, Albus wasn’t sure. He decided not to spend much time thinking about it. Instead, he turned to Michael. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Michael said nonchalantly, and Albus couldn’t tell if he was upset or not. “I’ll call you later, just make sure you actually have your phone on you,” he chuckled. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”
—
When they arrived home that night, the first thing Albus did was guide Scorpius into the kitchen and pour him a glass of milk. “Here, drink this,” he said as he forced the glass into the other man’s hands. Scorpius wrinkled his nose; he hated milk, but he complied. “It’ll help you feel better tomorrow.”
Milk had been Albus’s go-to cure for several years now. He’d read about it once, how it was more hydrating and vitamin packed, and he’d stuck to it ever since. It was one of many sorry attempts at taking care of his body, an apology for treating it so terribly.
Afterwards, Albus brought him to the bedroom and helped him get changed into his pajamas. As he lifted his shirt up and off, Albus caught a glimpse of his chest. He’d seen him shirtless hundreds of times by now, but this time in particular just felt wrong to him, like he’d be burned for looking. He shook his head and averted his eyes, trying is best to focus only on the task at hand.
“Albus?” he said quietly.
“Hm?” Albus replied, unfolding a pajama shirt in front of him and bunching it up at the collar.
“Did you drink at all tonight?”
“Nothing but lemonade,” said Albus as he met his eyes and gave a small smile. “I promised you I wouldn’t.”
“Is there… something wrong with me?” He sounded small and insecure, unsure of himself.
“What? Of course not. Why would you think that?” he spoke softly as he fashioned the shirt over Scorpius’s head, covering his once bare chest.
Scorpius hugged himself insecurely and pulled at the fabric of his shirt as he spoke, “Why did you kiss that guy?”
Albus frowned. He hadn’t expected him to notice. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I wanted to, I guess. He’s nice.”
“Am I not nice?” Scorpius huffed as he fell backwards onto the bed. “Why didn’t you want to kiss me? I wanted to kiss you.”
Albus’s eyes widened at the words. Why had he said that? He rationalized that Scorpius was probably just drunk and misplacing his feelings. Maybe it was because he’d only recently escaped an abusive relationship and was looking to numb the pain that came with it, or maybe he was just afraid of losing him—Albus could understand that, he had sort of been there before, though he’d never admit it to anyone aside from himself. Or maybe it was none of those things and Scorpius was just spouting drunken nonsense.
Albus took a seat at the foot of the bed. “You’re very nice, Scor. I’ve never met anyone nicer than you,” he said, tucking his friend into bed. “I’ll tell you what. If you still want to kiss me tomorrow, I can kiss you then. Alright?” Scorpius nodded lightly in response and promptly fell asleep.
Albus lied awake next to Scorpius’s sleeping form for nearly an hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the night, replaying everything in his mind. What if Scorpius woke up in the morning and remembered what he said? Would he still want to kiss him? And should Albus kiss him, all things considered? Of course he wanted to, but was it the right thing to do? They had kissed before, years ago, but Albus didn’t like to dwell on the details of that encounter. Unfortunately this whole ordeal was bringing that right back to the forefront, and he didn’t like it one bit.
When he decided that sleep was hopeless, he resigned himself to the couch and flipped through the channels every few minutes, unable to settle on anything. Annoyed, he thought about how easy it would be to just go and have a drink and put an end to his incessant thoughts. Just one would do. He shook his head. He shouldn’t.
Having finally had enough, he walked into the kitchen, ready to give in to his urges. But as he was pouring himself his first shot, he noticed daylight seeping in through the drawn curtains. It was morning.
Wanting to get rid of the evidence without being wasteful, Albus downed the shot guiltily and quietly placed the dirtied glass back into the pantry. It felt painfully unsatisfactory, but he forced himself to stop there. He sneaked back into his room, settled down into his spot in the bed, and pretended to be asleep. Scorpius stirred next to him, causing Albus to stiffen.
“Good morning,” Scorpius yawned loudly. He wrapped his arms tightly around Albus’s stomach and pulled him toward him.
“Morning.” Albus gave a small smile, but he felt strange. He tried to play it off. “How’d you sleep?”
Scorpius yawned again, squeezing Albus as he did. “Like a rock. I’m not feeling too great now, though, there’s this horrible feeling in my throat,” he said with a retch. Albus stayed stiffly in place.
Albus didn’t think he remembered; he was acting way too normal. If he’d confessed to Scorpius that he wanted to kiss him last night, he’d probably be killing himself right now—but he supposed that might not be the best comparison.
“Did something happen? You’re acting strangely,” Scorpius asked innocently as he turned to meet eyes with him. “Oh, Merlin, what did I do?”
“Er, nothing,” Albus lied. “I’m just tired, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Guess you made good on your promise, then. A drunk Albus is a sleepy Albus,” he said with a giggle. He wasn’t wrong. Maybe Albus should’ve drank last night; he’d probably feel a lot less weird right now. He also definitely would’ve kissed Scorpius, though, so maybe not. Albus didn’t say anything.
Scorpius eyed him guiltily. “I want to apologize.” Albus’s breath hitched. Did he remember after all? He wished he could melt into the mattress. “I shouldn’t have had so much to drink. I think I got a bit carried away, you know, I never got to have much fun when Connor was around. I just wanted to let go for a little while. But I’ve realized now, that was probably pretty triggering for you, and I’m sorry.”
He truly hadn’t thought about it from that perspective at all; he was too occupied with how Scorpius had acted while inebriated to worry about anything else. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it. It’s not your responsibility to make sure I stay sober. Besides, it was nice to see you have a bit of fun,” he said honestly.
“Yeah, but you’re my best friend. I should be more mindful of things like that. I’m not having very much fun now, anyway. I feel like I’ve just been hit by a truck—a very large, very fast truck,” Scorpius groaned as he rubbed his temples; Albus realized then that Scorpius still looked much paler than usual.
“More alcohol would probably fix that,” he said grimly. He knew the feeling all too well.
He spent the remainder of the morning caring for his best friend. Scorpius had been too nauseous to eat, so Albus all but forced him to down another glass of milk. “Take these—they might help with the headache. Just don’t chew them, alright? They taste horrible,” he grimaced as he handed Scorpius three small paracetamol tablets, which he swallowed reluctantly.
The remainder of their day was spent curled up quietly on the couch together. Albus decided he wasn’t going tell him what happened the night before, at least not right away. It wasn’t the right time, it probably never would be.