"So what is football?"

Scorpius hopped up the final stair leading towards the fifth year boys' dormitory. He spun around to face his dorm mate, grinning as he advanced backwards into their dorm. Albus—from their dorm mate's side—began an animated explanation of it immediately.

"It's brilliant! It's sort of like Quidditch."

"Yeah, certain positions correspond to Quidditch ones," Scorpius added. He fell down onto the edge of his bed. "Like Keeper and goalkeeper."

Sigmund Stone nodded. He considered that carefully.

"But...without brooms?"

Scorpius and Albus exchanged a quick, amused look.

"Right," Scorpius nodded. "Without brooms. And you kick the ball—no hands allowed!"

"Wow," Sig commented. He began rummaging through his trunk. "So many rules."

"It's actually simpler than Quidditch, just doesn't seem like it at first," Albus said. He dropped to the edge of his bed and promptly sprawled out on his back. Scorpius felt warmth pool in his cheeks as Albus's shirt rode up, revealing a brief expanse of skin. "Scorpius. I knew that second helping of banoffee pie was a bad idea. Why did I listen to you?" he groaned. He rubbed over his temporarily protruding stomach. Scorpius wasn't sure why he found it so endearing, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be at Albus's side.

He rose to do just that, but a suspicious look from Saul Montague stopped him in his tracks. Scorpius hesitated for an awkward moment and then walked over to his trunk, as if that'd been his intention all along. He could feel Albus's eyes on him as he rummaged through it for something, anything...

"Here," he said, relieved. He pulled the football book from his trunk and turned, passing it to Sig. "This explains all about it!"

Sigmund took the book, but a moment later, he jumped, alarmed.

"What?" Scorpius asked. "Is there a bug?! Is it a spider? I think my Pygmy Puff will eat spiders...give it here..."

"No, it's just—these photos don't move," Sig whispered, amazed.

There was a pause. And then the other two boys in the dorm walked over, curious. Malcolm Bletchley found it fascinating; he kept tapping the photos as if he thought that would make them move. Omri Bigelow—a muggleborn—was crowded around simply to watch their dorm mates' expressions. Even Saul looked a bit intrigued. Scorpius took advantage of their distraction and edged his way over to Albus bit by bit, trying his hardest to look casual. He perched on the edge of Albus's bed. Albus sat up slowly and propped himself up on his elbows, grinning automatically at Scorpius. Scorpius's heart fluttered.

"Hey," Scorpius greeted.

"Hey," Albus shot back.

"How are you?" Scorpius asked. He was trying so hard to sound casual and normal that his words sounded oddly formal. He winced. Albus furrowed his brow.

"...Fine?"

"Yeah? Great. Er...nice weather, right?"

He turned and looked at the window. They were under the lake. All they could see was water. Scorpius's face burned.

"Are you okay?" Albus hissed towards him. He leaned in closer, bringing his mouth in dangerous proximity to Scorpius's. Scorpius allowed himself one moment to look at his lips, and then he leaned back, putting distance between them. "You're being weird, Scorpius."

"Yes. Fine. Just fine," Scorpius squeaked. "Not weird. Just—friends. Friendy-friends. Friends talk about...'how are you' and 'how's the weather' and..." he trailed off. He couldn't think of what else friends said to each other. He and Albus weren't just friends and he didn't think they ever hadbeen; even when they were 'friends' they were more than that, they were best friends. He and Albus had decided to try and keep things hush on the train ride, but Scorpius was realizing now that he had no idea how to do that, because he didn't think they'd ever been discreet about their feelings for each other. What could he talk to Albus about, if he couldn't talk about how important he was to him, or how beautiful he was, or how nice he smelled? "Classes. How about classes, right?"

Albus stared. After a long moment and a quick look at their otherwise occupied dorm mates, he leaned in close.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" he hissed, his green eyes studying Scorpius's.

Scorpius shook his head, a fake, nearly manic smile still plastered on his face. He was afraid to let it fall.

"No," he grinned painfully. "Not at all. Not even a little bit. I am suffering, actually, and it's only been a couple of hours, which probably says something not-so-great about me."

Albus relaxed. "Me too. This is awful."

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed fervently. He lifted his hands up and stared hard at them. "I don't know what to do with these anymore. They feel like dead weight." His thoughts drifted to dinner. For once, their dorm mates had actually made an effort to sit near them and talk with them (no doubt in response to the series of articles Rita had run over that summer making them seem cooler than they actually were). Scorpius had spent the entire meal trying his hardest not to touch Albus anymore than strictly necessary, but he couldn't help the fact that both their faces reddened anytime they did touch. He'd never been so hyper aware of the exact space between himself and something else as he'd been of the space between his skin and Albus's. After over a month of slowly learning to comfortably act on his urges to touch Albus, it was a bit jarring to suddenly find himself in a situation where they were trying not to touch at all. And, to be fair, they could've gotten away with a few casual touches...but Scorpius wasn't sure he trusted either of them to be able to leave it at that.

"So what should we do?" Albus hissed. Their dorm mates had lost interest in the book and we're drifting back to their respective beds. Scorpius jumped about six inches back from Albus when Omri glanced their way (which, in retrospect, probably looked more suspicious than them lounging closely). Omri furrowed his brow but didn't say anything. He turned back to his trunk and resumed sorting through his items.

Scorpius cleared his throat and looked back at Albus.

"I don't know. I mean, you know, what we said on the train still stands...people are going to be mean."

"They're always mean."

"But..." Scorpius trailed off, picturing the furious look that'd washed over Albus's face right before he hexed Karl. "I thought you were worried about how mean everybody's being already..."

"I was. But, honestly, Scorpius? I think staying away from you would be far worse."

Scorpius didn't know what was more pleasing: Albus's words or the intense, serious aura about him as he delivered them. His cheeks only barely pinked. Scorpius felt a familiar thrill jolt low in his belly. He loved blushing Albus, cute Albus—but he was enamored with this Albus. Confident, certain, intense. It made Scorpius's heart swell in an entirely different way than it usually did, in a way that was almost uncomfortable. In a way that made everything in his chest feel too tight—like there wasn't enough room. In a way that made him feel a new desperation to touch Albus, one that was demanding and almost frantic, because he had this strange notion that touching him would make the pressure better. He had yet to try it, and he'd yet to come across a book that described what he was feeling, so as far as he knew, he was mad. And he didn't know what to do with any of it. So he fidgeted with his fingers, nervously tapped his heels against the floor, and avoided Albus's eyes. At least until his heart stopped that. At least until the mere thought of pressing his lips to Albus's no longer made him nearly shiver.

"It would. Being away from you," he blurted, realizing that he'd been quiet for far too long. He glanced at Albus. He promptly looked away. Intense eyes again. Scorpius couldn't handle the intense eyes. Why did Albus keep doing that? Did he know he was doing it? Scorpius's fidgeting got worse as his frustration turned into frenetic energy. He shot another sideways glance at Albus. "Stop, please, with the—with the—you know."

Albus's eyes gradually softened. His head cocked to the right a tiny bit, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"The—you know."

"The 'you know'? What happened to Malfoy the Thesaurus?"

"He's writhing in torment right now, please call again later." A pause. Scorpius dared to scoot a tiny bit closer. He ducked his burning face. "Your eyes. You know."

Albus did not know. When Scorpius met his eyes, Albus looked incredibly confused.

"My eyes?" He frowned. He lifted a hand up and covered them for a moment. "You don't like them?"

"No—I love them!" He assured Albus, stunned by the mere suggestion. He could feel Saul's eyes on him, but that didn't matter. He had to make sure that Albus knew he liked his eyes. "They're great. Everything about you—" there was now a slow smile forming on Albus's face and a blush on Scorpius's "—everything's great."

"Then what's the problem?" Albus persisted. "I'm confused."

"They're..." he trailed off. Immediately, a slew of adjectives took root in his mind: hot, burning, smoldering, intense, magnetic, sexy. Uh oh. "Oh."

"What?" Albus demanded, annoyed.

Scorpius reached up and buried his red face into his hands. "Nothing."

"Really, er, because it sort of, you know. Seems like something?" Albus pressed, skeptical.

"Er..." Scorpius slid from Albus's bed. He needed to be away from him—immediately. "Teeth. My teeth. I should brush them. All of them. Right now."

He accidentally knocked into the edge of Albus's four-poster in his rush to escape his arousal. He hobbled towards the door leading to the bathroom, limping, his arousal trailing right on behind him. Go away, go away, go away—

"Malfoy," Sig called loudly. Laughter was brimming in his tone. "Don't you need a toothbrush?"

"Yeah, you all right, Malfoy?" Omri added, snickering. "Need us to leave for a moment? You're looking a bit randy."

Scorpius jumped a couple inches into the air. He was so red that he could feel his pulse thrumming in his face as all his blood migrated there.

"I—! I am—not!" Scorpius shot a quick look towards Albus. Oddly, Albus looked entirely relieved and—oh Merlin—had a tiny grin in place. "I. Forgot. My. Toothbrush."

Scorpius could feel everybody's eyes on him as he hurried over. He wanted to crawl into his trunk and shut the lid on himself.

"Malfoy, Potter," Omri began. His deep voice was brimming with withheld laughter. "I know we're not Ravenclaws, but we're far from idiots."

Scorpius looked up in shock. He watched Omri and Sig collapse into fits. Malcolm joined in shortly after, leaving only Saul looking at Scorpius like he was inherently disgusting, but then again—he'd always sort of looked at him that way. Scorpius glanced towards Albus. Albus looked back at him.

"So much for that," Albus shrugged. They shared a shy grin.

Scorpius was exhausted, but when Albus joined him in the bathroom and suggested they go down into the common room, he wasn't even the slightest bit inclined to say no.

Being the first night back, it was fuller than it usually was. Groups of threes and fours were piled atop of sofas, couples were sitting together in singular chairs, the entire group of seventh years was engaged in a Gobstones competition. Scorpius and Albus made their way to their customary seat—a leather sofa against the far wall, just beneath the massive window the Giant Squid frequented during his daily swims. Scorpius plopped down onto the left; Albus plopped down onto the right. After a brief moment, they met eyes and slid over to meet in the middle.

"I can't believe they've known all along."

"I can," Scorpius admitted.

Albus laughed. "Okay, yeah, I suppose I can, too. Do you think things'll be weird now?"

"Our dorm has always been weird. They've talked to us more today than they did all last year combined."

"Fair point."

Scorpius felt Albus's touch at his waist. After a moment, he wedged his arm between Scorpius's back and the cushions of the couch. He held onto him. Scorpius beamed like an idiot towards the fire and shifted closer to Albus's side. After digging around himself for a bit of bravery, he reached over and set a palm on Albus's thigh. The little jump Albus gave made Scorpius's heart jolt along with it.

They avoided eyes. Somehow, Scorpius knew they'd realized the same thing: if they looked at each other now, they'd end up snogging in the corner of the common room.

Albus sucked in a short breath. Scorpius glanced towards him from the corner of his eye. Albus looked to be considering something.

"Do you remember what my dad said on the train?"

"Honestly, I don't think I've forgotten one thing your dad has ever said," Scorpius admitted.

Albus scrunched up his nose. Scorpius quickly explained himself.

"I mean—! You know, he's Harry Potter. He makes impressive speeches from time to time. It's interesting."

"Right," Albus said. "Well. I was thinking about it. About what he said."

"That it's everybody else's problem if they don't like us?" Scorpius guessed.

"Exactly. And..." he took another deep breath. "I think we should take that advice, all or nothing."

Scorpius waited. Albus couldn't meet his eyes.

"As in...us. Not just us, like you and me. Us." Albus paused. He pointed across the common room. When Scorpius glanced over, he saw a sixth year boy and girl snogging madly in a dark corner. "They can do that. Nobody cares. Nobody even notices. Why can't we?"

Scorpius opened his mouth to respond. The answer seemed simple. But then he closed his lips, because the more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

"I guess...well..."

He felt abruptly uncomfortable and guilty, and he wasn't sure why. He didn't like the feeling. He shifted even closer to Albus in hopes that it would help.

"It's because we're boys," Albus answered for him. "I've been thinking about it."

"My dad said some people would be mean about that," Scorpius admitted.

"Mine, too. When he talked to me about—" Albus broke off. He turned Weasley red again. Scorpius looked down at him in interest, but Albus didn't continue that train of thought. "I thought it was stupid."

"It is stupid."

"But do you remember ever seeing two boys kissing in public? Because I don't. I didn't even know that was something that happened, you know?"

"I did," Scorpius admitted. "But, well. In books. Not real people."

"Oh," Albus said. He loosened his hold on Scorpius's waist for a moment, just so he could turn to face him. Scorpius did the same. Their knees brushed. "I didn't know until I was nine when my mum let me go with her and James to drop Nora's Christmas gift off."

Scorpius felt instantly better, though he wasn't sure why. He smiled widely.

"Dean and Seamus! They're together, you know. Like us. Well—not just like us, they've got a house and a daughter and Dean can paint and he has an art studio and I surely cannot paint but—" Albus was looking at him with soft, amused eyes. Scorpius hesitated. "Carry on."

"Yeah, and honestly...after that day...my obsession with Brazilian Chaser Gonçalo Flores made a lot more sense..."

Scorpius snickered. "Nothing much to do with Quidditch, huh?"

"Yeah—not really, as it turns out," Albus admitted, grinning.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Scorpius stifled a yawn into his palm. He blinked tiredly down at Albus.

"So what you're saying is...we should be like the couple in the corner."

Albus looked back at them.

"Yes. Well—sort of. I think they might be...ugh, well, let's just say some things should be private. But maybe not everything."

Scorpius shot a curious look the couple's way. He immediately looked away.

"Oh my! Is that allowed?!"

"Almost certainly not."

They shared a grimace. Scorpius was feeling better—that weird wave of sadness he'd felt at the start had gone, and once it had, he couldn't even remember where it'd come from or why he'd had it.

"Okay. I'm ready. I agree. We're going to get bullied mercilessly. But, well...bring it on."

Albus beamed. "Yeah? You're sure? You're ready for the 'twisted, forbidden love' comments?"

"I was sure that I was. And then we got here. And I saw how upset their words made you, so then I wasn't so sure. But now you seem sure. So I'm sure," he rambled. "I just want...well, Albus, I'm okay as long as I've got you. It's you I'm worried about."

Albus laughed. Scorpius smiled down at him, a bit confused.

"What?"

Albus shot a quick look around the common room, and then with his lips still curled up into a smile, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Scorpius's. His stomach lurched. He reached up to touch Albus—to hold his face in his hands, to cup the back of his neck, something—but Albus leaned back before he could. He was still grinning.

"You're what I've been worried about," Albus said.

"Oh," Scorpius grinned. "Well—that's silly. We should communicate more efficiently."

"I'll make note of that. Hey—why don't you put it in the planner my aunt gave you? You've put everything else into it," he teased.

Scorpius sniffed. "I won't apologize for my organization, Albus."

"No—I'd never expect you to."

They held their eye contact for a moment. Albus's eyes were beginning to do that thing.

"That!"

"What?"

"Your eyes, Albus. You make them...smoldering. And I think you're doing it to drive me mad."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Albus said, "but if it drives you mad, I'm probably glad I'm doing it."

Flirty Albus. There he was. Fleeting, quick, always gone too soon. Scorpius licked his lips and struggled to gather his scrambling thoughts. For a moment, all he could think about was his boyfriend's eyes paired with that tiny smirk...

He had no idea what his own face was doing, but whatever it was, Albus seemed to like it. He leaned closer, his eyes studying Scorpius's intently.

"You know. Sig went to sleep already. And everybody else..." he gestured around the common room. Scorpius's eyes jumped from person to person until he'd accounted for every other fifth-year boy. He gulped, pleased and a bit nervous.

"Cuddling?" he asked. His voice was higher than it needed to be. Albus hesitated for a moment. He looked down at his lap shyly.

"Yeah. Or—kissing?"

Scorpius's heart was soaring. How had the day gone from getting bullied on the train to this? He nearly had whiplash from the transition. Scorpius stood immediately.

"I firmly support that suggestion."

"I'm glad you support it," Albus said, jumping to his feet, too. "It was one of my better ones."

"It was. Sometimes your suggestions are rubbish. 'Let's go back in time', 'Let's try to say hello to Rose and her evil Gryffindor friends on the train', 'Let's see who can eat the most Pepper Imps in one sitting without their head melting'. But this is a great one."

"Hey—all my suggestions are brilliant...if you squint..."

"Right...we just won't mention our fourth year at all, then."

They tip-toed into the dark dormitory. The lights were out, Sig's