Chapter Text
Albus woke the following Saturday feeling like a hive of pixies had taken up residence in his stomach, zooming around and making him queasy. He fleetingly considered feigning illness and hiding in bed all day. Then he reminded himself that he had two Gryffindor parents and that there had to be a least a bit of bravery hiding somewhere in his genes, and then and there he resolved to find it and dig it out.
Scorpius, amid his usual stream of chatter, remarked during breakfast that Albus had walked up to the Great Hall as though he expected to face the gallows upon his arrival, and Albus barely had it in him to object as he picked at his bacon.
They spent most of the morning in the library, where Scorpius revised and Albus watched Scorpius revise whilst holding an open textbook and trying not to be sick from nerves.
By the time lunch rolled around, Scorpius had stopped talking about other things to ask Albus if he was alright no fewer than five separate times. He looked less convinced with every “I’m fine,” so much so that Albus finally admitted to himself that Scorpius would most likely force the issue the next time he had to ask. He took a deep quiet breath, noticed that he was sweating profusely out of nerves, and decided that they ought to get out of the castle before Scorpius noticed.
“Scorpius?” he said after a period of silence. It came out much closer to a squeak than Albus would’ve liked.
“Hmm?”
“How would you feel about...about maybe taking a stroll by the lake?”
Scorpius put down his book.
“Sure! Lovely day out, why not?” Scorpius set his book down and headed out of the castle and into the sunlight, his gangly legs loping along down the hill towards the lake. Albus hurried along after him, looking anywhere but at Scorpius. He reminded himself of all the things he’d already gone through to to get to this point—bribing James with all his saved up pocket money to sneak into the village and buy him what he needed, evading James’s annoying questions for the rest of the week, hiding his supplies from Scorpius...
They reached the side of the lake, far enough away from everyone else that it was unlikely they’d be watched, and Scorpius turned and looked at him expectantly. Albus scrambled for something to say.
“Er...You were right. It... It is a nice day out.” Feeble. Utterly feeble.
“Lovely,” Scorpius agreed, nodding. “Listen Albus, I... I don’t want to pry—I mean, I know you need to do your brooding and or sulking thing from time to time—but is there something you want to talk about?”
If the universe was merciful, the Giant Squid would reach out to the banks and snatch Albus up, dragging him down into the watery depths of the Black Lake. Words were absolutely failing him—he’d been intending to say something to Scorpius but he found that there was apparently some kind of small animal attempting to crawl up his throat and rendering him incapable of speech. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of Butterbeer he’d been hauling around since breakfast. He thrust it into Scorpius’s hand.
“I... I wanted to try something. Could you maybe take a big sip and just not swallow for a moment?” he managed.
Scorpius’s reaction was a stark reminder that this was not even close to the weirdest thing Albus had ever asked him to do. He raised his eyebrows mildly, popped the top off the Butterbeer and sucked some up into his mouth, cheeks inflating like a puffskein, eyes still locked with Albus’s.
Before he could second guess himself any further, Albus grabbed the two Fizzing Whizbees he’d carried in the other pocket and popped them into his mouth. He closed his eyes, raised himself up slightly on his toes and touched his lips to Scorpius’s, bracing himself for...he didn’t know. A slap maybe? Instead, Scorpius dropped the bottle and opened his mouth slightly in surprise and Albus felt a rush of Butterbeer pass his teeth into his mouth. He pushed one of the Fizzing Whizbees into Scorpius’s past Scorpius’s lips with his tongue.
Albus’s fear evaporated in the face of the stark reality that it was done—he couldn’t take it back. He had kissed Scorpius and they were going to have to move forward from that, for better or worse.
An explosion of Butterbeer foam spilled past both their lips and dripped down Albus’s chin. He barely had time to wonder to himself why he ever thought he could do something like this before he felt the curve of Scorpius’s smile and the press of Scorpius’s lips more firmly against his. As though Albus’s happiness was manifesting itself physically, he felt his toes grazing the grass as he was levitated several inches above the ground.
Once they were back on the bank, Scorpius pulled back to cough and splutter into his hands. Albus wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, holding his breath and nearly overflowing with hope. Scorpius looked up at him with his eyes sparkling.
“That was brilliant!” he gasped, “Absolutely brilliant! Where did you even get that idea? How did you make it happen?”
“I—"
“Wait,” Scorpius interrupted, “I don’t care.”
And then he surged forward and kissed Albus deeply, pulling him close, nuzzling their noses together and giggling against Albus’s lips. Glorious relief flooded through his body as he allowed his shoulders to sag into Scorpius and he wrapped his arms around his waist—it was hard to believe that his plan had worked so perfectly, but the evidence was literally right in his face.
“Wow,” Scorpius whispered as he pulled back, positively glowing.
“Yeah,” Albus agreed hoarsely. “Wow.”
A week later when Fred and Hugo showered the entire Great Hall in foaming Butterbeer during dinner, Albus just smiled and squeezed Scorpius’s hand under the table.