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Apparently, It would seem that Albus had entirely ruined Scorpius.
Taken the innocent, pure-blooded naïve little scholar, and depraved him utterly. Debauched him to the point where a semi-public blow-job in the finest restaurant in Diagon Alley was considered a fine idea both in theory, and practice. The problem, as always with Albus, was that he simply had no will power when it came to Scorpius. Any and all resistance had slipped from his brain when Scor had charmed the door shut and gotten down on his knees. The naughty little sod hadn’t even bothered with a silencing spell, which was annoying, for Al was finding keeping the noise down rather difficult. He had half a fist shoved in his mouth, and his head had thumped hard enough against the wall to leave a bruise. Somehow, however, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Scorpius was, of course, as talented with his mouth as he was with everything other bloody thing in his life, and he knew exactly what was guaranteed to send Albus toppling over the edge. He knew just much pressure to use to make Al whine; how much he loved it when he swirled his tongue all over his slit and ticked the sensitive skin inside his thighs. Scorpius liked to be the absolute best at everything, so he’d made sure to practice at every opportunity. Albus thought it a pity they didn’t give NEWTs out for blow-jobs, because Scor would get Outstanding every time. He’d even help him revise-“Ow!” Scor had pinched his leg, a telling reminder to keep the noise down. His thoughts had been spiralling away from him a little before, but at that he became quite conscious of their surroundings. There he was stood, with his pants around his ankles. Albus was having the best blow-job of his life in the toilets of Le Gavroche: possibly the most upper-crust, gentrified wizarding restaurant that Albus had ever been to. ***Honestly, nothing about the start of their evening had given Albus any clue about the quite dramatic, and really rather erotic direction it was going to take. For once, Al had actually been looking forward to the meal. Normally he didn’t care much for these fine dining places that Scorpius and Draco seemed to love. For one thing, he couldn’t often couldn’t recognise the ingredients or the mode of cooking. Indeed, only three weeks before, Albus had been utterly stumped at the sight of a menu in a hotel restaurant. Picking something at random, he’d nearly passed out when a fish dish had arrived, gelatinous and wriggling, and still quite conspicuously alive.
Draco had smirked quite horribly, and Scorpius- the bloody git!- had openly laughed, as they each tucked into their steaks and their fabulously normal-looking side vegetables. Not tonight though. Since Aunty Hermione had freed the House Elves many of them had gravitated to places such as Le Gavroche to work. Their unique magic made for meals that were world famous for their lightness, delicacy and taste. Albus had done his research, examined the menu, and had even thought about the wine that would go well with the Canette Rôtie that he’d chosen. Even Scor had seemed mildly impressed when he’d outlined his dinner choices. It was important this night went well, actually. Draco had been in a foul mood with both boys for days, ever since they’d arrived late for the Opera. Albus didn’t regret his lateness for one moment, but Scorpius always strived to impress his dad, and tonight was the perfect opportunity to get back into his good books. They were dining with a Wizard from one of the oldest Pure-Blood families in England; a gentleman whose lands adjoined the Malfoy’s Cornish estate. Scorpius was ready to be his most diffident, most charming self; the very soul of wit to their guest. And Scor looked absolutely enchanting, Albus thought. All cleanly shaven, and wearing his most formal robes. Albus couldn’t help but feel excited. Good food, good conversation and his beautiful boyfriend next to him. This really was going to be a wonderful evening. But the evening had been dreadful from the very start. It wasn’t the food or the restaurant. Le Gavroche lived up to its reputation (and prices) and the food was perfect; infused with magic and made with love. The problem had been their guest. Utterly impervious to Scorpius’ kindness and charm, the older man had been foul to them from their introduction. He bristled on hearing Al’s surname, and tsk’d audibly when Scorpius had introduced him as his partner. The man given their clasped hands a stony glare, which shocked Albus into dropping Scor’s hand immediately. He’d criticised Aunt Hermione’s revision of the old House-Elf Labour Laws and been obnoxious about Harry’s management of the Auror Service: apparently they felt that protecting Muggles and any odd creatures came before the wizards whose taxes paid their wages! And there had even been some vile talk about how the old Pure-Blood ways were disappearing, and mores the pity! He hadn’t been openly racist, but it was close enough. The meaning had been quite clear. Albus had ran off to the toilets feeling quite sick. He’d thought this kind of talk had disappeared after the War, and he knew he couldn’t listen and or be privy to it. He’d marched back determined to shout; to defend his family, his boyfriend and everything that he knew to be good. But Scorpius, it seemed, had beaten him to it.As Albus had left the bathroom, he’d nearly crashed into the bigoted man, who’d given him the filthiest look imaginable. Bloody Half-Blood do-gooders, he’d muttered roughly, spittle flying in Al’s direction. Seducing and ruining our best young wizards for your vile ends. You ought to be ashamed! Close on his tail, however was Scorpius. He had his hand clasped tightly around the end of his wand and a look of unhinged fury on his face quite unlike anything Albus had seen before. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes were round with anger. Some words had obviously passed already between the two of them, for Al only heard the very end of Scor’s diatribe:“-and if I ever, ever hear, or see you again, then you’ll feel the sharp end of my bloody wand, hexing your nasty mouth! I’ll love whomever I jolly well like, and what’s more, I’ll marry whomever I like too...”The man had turned at Scorpius’ final words. He seemed to be ready to say something else, or even draw his own wand, but one look at the grim lines around Scor’s mouth put pay to that idea, and he turned and fled. Albus had never seen Scorpius look quite so much like Draco as he did at that moment. He was all barely-controlled composure; pink-hued cheeks and a stubborn, set jaw. His magic was rolling off him in uncontrolled waves, a tidal wave that buzzed against his own skin, coiling and knotting with every cell in Albus' body. Scorpius looked rather dangerous, actually, and Albus couldn’t help but feel a little aroused. After all, Scorpius was terribly spoilt, and did always get exactly what he wanted. And right at this moment, it seemed he wanted Albus. “What a blasted horrible man” Scorpius said quietly, in a voice that sounded raspy and used. “Dad was politely telling him to piss off, when he had the audacity to tell me I was a ruining my life with you!… Told me I needed to get myself a nice Pure-Blood wife and not let my blood line down. It was such utter rubbish, Al… Such nonsense-”“Which part, Scor?”Albus replied, smoothing the flyaway blond hair away from Scorpius’ eyes. “The part about you getting a wife… Or the part where you said you’d love who you wanted and maybe marry them one day, too? Because I really quite liked that part...”“Ugh, you're always so predicable Albus-” Scorpius whispered, smiling. He cut off his words mid flow to pepper barely-there kisses along his boyfriends jaw. “But I must admit, I do feel tremendously provoked after all the nastiness. People like that do leave such dreadfully nasty taste in my mouth. Maybe you could perk me up a little bit? Feed me something that always tastes delicious...”Albus could feel his resistance draining away as his boyfriend crowded him, all warmth and solidity. Scorpius was moving them inextricably towards the bathroom door, and to a course of action that would, no doubt, decrease their credit with Draco even further. But Albus couldn’t have said no, even if he’d wanted to.
After all, he simply had no will power when it came to Scorpius.