Title: Scorpius Malfoy and the Really Fantastic Pair of Tits
Author: EntreNous (entrenous88)
Based On/Inspired By: T&A by ships_harry
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Content/Warnings: Breast enhancement; description/fantasizing of various erotic scenarios with tits; Scorpius has breasts in the final scene
Word Count: 7,050
Summary/Description: "Scorpius will do anything to get close to Harry." Or, Scorpius grows a pair.
Author's Notes: ships_harry's artwork shook me right out of my writing slump; I knew I had to work with the scenario she so gorgeously portrayed as soon as I saw her post it in February. The first sentence of the summary quotes her description of her piece. I do hope she enjoys this, and I hope all of you do as well. Happy Birthday, Daily Deviant!










If there was one thing everyone knew about Harry Potter -- aside from the fact that he saved people and defeated Voldemort and capably headed the Aurors and had married a Weasley with whom he had three kids -- it was that he liked tits.

At least, everyone seemed to know that about Harry by the time Scorpius himself finally found out.

"Any copies of the notes from this morning's meetings?" Harry leaned against Scorpius's desk, rubbing at his forehead with the heel of his palm. Even in his tired posture and rumpled robes, he looked boyishly handsome.

Scorpius forced himself to look at Harry with a calm expression instead of staring at his broad shoulders or imagining wicked things about his strong-looking hands. "Already on your desk."

Harry let fall the folder he'd been examining; Scorpius refrained from picking it up and immediately filing it in its proper place, at least while Harry was still in the room. "Thanks for that. I'll just --" Harry walked toward his office.

"Coffee?" Scorpius called after him as Harry crossed the threshold.

"Oh. Yes, please." Harry grinned. Scorpius tried not to dissolve into a puddle. The door closed.

Scorpius spelled the folder on his desk with a security charm so that it could be left momentarily, and went to make the coffee straight away.

"He can wait a few minutes." Emily, one of Harry's two other assistants, returned to filing her nails now that their superior was out of the anteroom.

"Well, obviously; but why make him?" Scorpius conjured fresh water before casting the heating spell; the others often used the water from the convenient pitchers, but Scorpius knew the Ministry's sub-par roast needed all the help it could get to achieve drinkable status.

She smiled, and though she had that know-it-all look she so often wore, her expression wasn't without sympathy. "You just can't pass up a chance to impress him, can you?"

Scorpius smoothed a cloth over the serving tray and fixed the mug of coffee exactly as Harry liked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Emily snorted. "If he so much as said 'Jump!', you'd say, 'How h--"

"He never says anything like jump," Scorpius cut her off irritably.

"You two bickering again?" The third assistant, Deirdre, shook her head at them as she returned to the office from an errand. She let the pile of parchments she carried drop to her desk and wandered over to take a mug for her own coffee.

Sighing, Scorpius walked over to the no doubt sensitive papers and cast the security charm Harry had repeatedly requested they set on every unattended document. When he turned to lecture Deirdre about her omission, however, he found her with the tray in her hands and already halfway through the door to Harry's office.

She winked at Scorpius as she slipped through the open door and shut it behind her with a bump of her curvy hip.

"That utter c--"

"Let it go," Emily warned sotto voce.

Scorpius scowled, still glaring at the closed door. "Why should I?" Ridiculous images streamed through his mind: stalking in and letting Harry know who exactly had prepared his perfect cup of coffee, to Deirdre's utter chagrin; entering on some trumped-up excuse only to spill the hot coffee all over Deirdre's hideously revealing blouse; slapping Deirdre across her smug face so that she shrieked and ran; straddling Harry's lap to let Harry know he could have him, just have him, if only he asked.

"Because, you complete idiot, she--" Emily leaned forward but gave a startled squeal when Harry's office door opened suddenly.

"Oh. Sorry to interrupt." Harry nodded at them both, looking more relaxed than he had when he went into the room earlier. He'd discarded his tie and unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. His Adam's apple stood out prominently, and there was a flash of his collarbone as he leaned forward. Scorpius tried not to think what it might feel like to lick it.

Emily covered her mouth and pretended she had been coughing while Scorpius stepped forward. "There was nothing to interrupt. Perhaps I might help you with something, H-, er, sir?"

"Ah." Harry paused as if trying to remember what he had been about to say, scratching the tip of his ear while he thought. "Er, just letting you two know Deirdre's going to assist with the Floo calls I'm taking this evening."

"She is?" Scorpius asked stupidly. It was typically his task most late afternoons.

Harry blinked at Scorpius's question, a puzzled look on his face, and then turned to Emily. "So if you could send in all of the calls I've approved --"

"Of course, Mr Potter," Emily murmured.

"Brilliant. Oh, and you might as well head out early for once, Scorpius; there's nothing more for you today." Harry again closed the door.

Scorpius returned at once to his desk and gathered his things, keeping his eyes down all the while.

"Oh, don't take it so hard," Emily murmured. "Tomorrow you'll be the pet again."

Scorpius barked a laugh. "You think I care, what that ridiculous tart -- stealing credit for others' work -- walking around like she's some sort of--"

"Well, you likely won't have to worry about her much longer," Emily muttered.

With his cloak half-yanked on, Scorpius stared at her. "What do you mean by that?"

Emily shrugged.

Scorpius narrowed his eyes at her before at last departing. It was no use hounding her for information. Though she had worked in the office for an age and apparently had seen a great many assistants come and go, she liked to act mysterious about whatever secrets she held.

None of it made absolutely any difference to Scorpius. Whether Deirdre left or not, Harry would soon have to acknowledge Scorpius the far more capable of the two junior assistants. Maybe Harry would find Scorpius so useful, he would set up a desk in the alcove in his office, just for Scorpius to work close at hand. Scorpius wouldn't natter on and bother Harry at all, the way Deirdre no doubt did; he would, by dint of hard work and tactful suggestions, make himself quietly but inexorably essential to Harry Potter.

Then maybe, late one night while they were both going over paperwork together, Harry would murmur, in a wondering voice, "How did I never notice --" And he would leave his sentence unfinished, instead leaning down, his green eyes going soft as he cupped Scorpius's jaw with his strong-looking hands and --

"Hold the lift," someone shouted irritably, and Scorpius came to attention just in time to do so.

"I'm for the ground floor as well," the woman who had stepped on said briskly. Scorpius flattened his lips to acknowledge the remark, but said nothing in reply. It seemed unnecessary, at any rate, for she almost immediately turned to face the doors. Though he didn't recognize her, he couldn't help but notice the faded but deep scars on her left cheek. Otherwise she seemed attractive, though Scorpius tended not to notice such things about women in anything other than a clinical way.

The lift came to a halt, and they stepped off together. Scorpius drew himself up as he customarily did in the Ministry corridors, keeping his bearing confident and proud. But somehow as the woman smoothed her hair just beside him, a shuddering breath escaped him.

"All right?" the woman asked suddenly. She peered up at Scorpius intently.

Caught off guard, instead of brushing off her question, Scorpius faltered. "Oh, er --"

She made a clucking sound and took his arm. "Come on. You look as if you could use a drink, and I know I could."



*~*~*



"You've been working for Harry for how long?" Lavender Brown, for that was what the woman was called, fished a cherry out of her complicated drink and sucked on it thoughtfully.

"Months. Months and months. Six months," Scorpius got out finally. He had started to line up his martini glasses at the start, but at some point someone had taken them away. Now he had no idea how many drinks he'd consumed. "I've been working for Harry," he added forlornly.

She patted his shoulder fondly. "Well, you seem quite efficient, and I'm sure he thinks you're just a treasure."

"I'm the best assistant in the office," Scorpius confided in too loud of a voice. He hushed himself with a finger over his lips, and then went on at a lower volume. "Quite likely the best he's ever had."

"Of course you are," Lavender soothed him. "Still. It's funny." She giggled. "Him hiring you."

Scorpius felt his lips thin. Whenever anyone insulted the Malfoy name, he could not keep silent. "Look, just because my father --"

"No, no," Lavender interrupted, pressing her hand earnestly on Scorpius's chest and then flattening it on the top of his head for a moment. "Not that. I know your family's done lots to mend things, what with their Malfoy Foundation Whatsis and charity thingies. And Harry himself supported your family, lord knows, appearing at those trials in support, and even sometimes posing with Draco in photographs at functions, looking very handsome, the two of them, side by side, and is your father still married these days?"

Scorpius pressed his fingertips to his throbbing temples and tried to keep up. "Er, yes. To my mother."

"Ah." She twirled her index finger in her glass. "Pity. Not for your mother, though, I suppose. No, I just meant, it's not that you're a Malfoy, it's that you're not -- well, to put it plainly, you're --"

"It's not that!" Scorpius interrupted loudly.

Lavender's eyebrows shot up. A person standing by a nearby table half-turned to stare.

Discombobulated, Scorpius tried to affect a careless attitude by resting his chin on his hand. He pitched forward momentarily when his elbow slipped off the table but soon righted himself. "Harry isn't prejudiced against --" He smoothed his lapels unnecessarily. "He doesn't even know I'm queer. I think. So. It's not as though he has a policy against hiring them. Me. And I should know, because I rewrote a version of his office policies quite recently, completely unasked." After a beat, his eyes widened. "Er, perhaps I ought not to have said anything about me being, well."

She shook her head, all compassion. "No, darling, you needn't have said a thing; it's all as clear as Gillywater! I wasn't talking about that, though. It's nothing to do with you being queer. But you're certainly not --" and here Lavender cut herself off and rounded her hands in the air in front of her already ample breasts.

Scorpius cleared his throat. "You can't mean to say you think Harry typically takes on only women who -- who have --"

At this Lavender smiled a naughty sort of smile. "Harry likes tits," she cooed. "Likes them an awful lot."

Scorpius was startled to find he felt something stirring in his groin. Not from Lavender, and not from the mere mention of tits, obviously; he'd never had that reaction to women before, and it made no sense his tastes would change all at once. Rather, it was the idea of this attribute, completely unimportant to Scorpius until that moment, which turned Harry on so immensely.

He wondered how many moments he'd missed by not realizing where Harry's eyes were drawn. Did Harry only stare at the chests of most of the women who stopped by the office? Or did he go so far as to slip into that narrow filing cupboard at the back of the office when Deirdre worked in there, so he could (as if by accident), brush against her full chest? Maybe it was the gin, but the thought of all of it sent a frisson of arousal up Scorpius's spine.

Through the haze of fantasy and alcohol, Scorpius managed to pull himself together and seize on an important image. "But. Emily. She's as flat as I am."

"Which is why she's been there for so long, don't you see?"

"Wait. Wait. This makes no sense at all. If Harry likes to hire assistants who have --" and here Scorpius listed forward to speak low in Lavender's ear, "--big tits, then why would the only one who has lasted an age have a chest like a boy's?"

"Why don't you guess, love?" Lavender whispered. She rested her sweaty cheek against his; dimly, Scorpius wondered if his cheek was now rouged as well. He could feel the grooves of her scars on her skin as their faces brushed together. "Why do you suppose Harry might not want those girls around any longer?"

Scorpius pulled back, staring. "Harry is married," he hissed.

She giggled. "You know that doesn't keep men from looking, of course." She tipped her glass back to send the last gulp of drink down her throat. "And it doesn't keep certain of them from doing on occasion."

"I can't believe -- he would --" Scorpius stammered. "All those pictures on his desk of his family --"

"Oh, no, no, no," Lavender interrupted, face now earnest. "I don't want to mislead you. It's not like that at all. He hasn't affairs, or anything. Just -- office parties, you know how they are sometimes."

Scorpius half-shut his eyes and exhaled slowly. "I don't know."

"Well, I suppose you've only worked six months, so you haven't seen what happens at one just yet. But it's only a bit of fun, isn't it? Everyone has rather a lot to drink, of course. There are all those pent up feelings from working close together." Lavender gazed over Scorpius's shoulder, her eyes going soft. "And if a few people sneak off to the stalls in the gents' or the cloak cupboards, what's the harm?"

"It's still." Scorpius's throat felt as though it was closing up. "It doesn't seem like him." Even if Scorpius wanted Harry very badly indeed, he had never once considered anything might actually happen, had never once thought of Harry as the sort of man who -- Harry flirted, obviously, but that was just his way.

"There's one in a few days, you know."

Scorpius's head jerked up. "What?"

"A Ministry party." Lavender tilted her head to the side, watching him. "I suppose you haven't thought twice about it, working as hard as you do for Harry."

Emily's words floated through the vapours of gin clouding Scorpius's brain: you likely won't have to worry about her much longer.

"Still can't imagine it?" Lavender asked. Her mouth twisted in a half-smile, but there was something bitter lurking around the curl of her lips. "Just think. He only likes to have them about for a bit of scenery, at the start, those girls with the big tits: filling out stupid paperwork and heaving those chests over how boring it is; pressing their breasts against their folded arms while they laugh at his silly little jokes; leaning over him just so, brushing against his back with their tits when he's showing them this or that; and dropping folders so they have to lean down in those low-cut blouses with their nipples hard against the fabric. And all the while he watches them walk and bend and bounce from behind that big desk of his."

They had both leaned forward as she spoke, drawn closer in the confidence, and then Lavender lowered her husky voice further. "That's all well and good when it's just looking, isn't it, darling? But then there are those holiday parties at the Ministry. And suddenly there's lots of champagne and Firewhiskey to get everyone through the dull speeches in those rooms too hot from all the people crowding them. Maybe not every time, but some times, things simply go too far, farther than he ever meant, you see. After that, he can't very well keep them round, can he, with his situation as it is?"

While Scorpius gaped at the picture Lavender had painted, Lavender took Scorpius's martini glass by the stem, downing the rest of its contents in one gulp. "But he's very apologetic, obviously, and awfully accommodating, of course," she went on. "He even gets the girls new positions, better ones, in other Ministry departments or regional government bureaus. No, of course he can't keep a girl like that round, not when things have gotten so out of hand."

Lavender's words faded to nothing as an image rose, unbidden, in Scorpius's mind: Deirdre, who indeed had big tits, suddenly alone with Harry in a narrow corridor, pushing against him while he muttered cursory protests -- Harry at last shoving her against the wall and first cupping then groping her breasts, tweaking the stiff nipples through her tight jumper while she muffled little moans into her hand -- Harry turning her round and fucking her from behind, her naked on the top with her skirt hiked up as he bent her over so she had to brace her hands against the wall, his clothes still on but his trousers undone, while her breasts swung with his jerking thrusts --

Scorpius shifted in his seat. He was hard; how was he hard, imagining a woman getting fucked like that? But it wasn't that image, was it, making his cock so stiff he wanted to whimper? It was the look of rapture on Harry's face in his mind, the way Harry swore and fucked forward and grabbed those enormous tits with both hands while he rode the girl hard, hard, hard, thumbing and twisting and kneading --

"All right?" Lavender asked. She had sat back at some point, and her voice sounded very far away.

Scorpius needed a drink of water. He needed someone to douse him with ice cold water. He was reeling where he sat, like some house elf drunk for the first time on Butterbeer. And in that confusion, a stupid hope he had ruthlessly squashed took the opportunity to feed and grow. Harry Potter actually screwed around. And if he did, then it wasn't beyond all reason to think perhaps, just possibly, he might one day actually look at Scorpius for more than a moment and --

But no. No. That wasn't a possibility, was it? Scorpius gripped the sides of the table, trying to steady himself. "He likes women," he said softly to remind himself.

"And tits, of course," Lavender supplied, pointing her finger at her own. At some point she had dabbed at her damp face with a cloth and reapplied her lipstick and powder; she seemed far more composed than she had only moments ago, and strides ahead of Scorpius at present.

"So it's useless." His head swam. "Even if I -- even if he --"

"You really do want to try with him, don't you?" Lavender shook her head.

"It doesn't matter what I want," he said dully. "It's impossible."

She glanced to the left and then to the right. "Listen, Scorpius. I'll tell you something in confidence, something very few people know. I shouldn't tell anyone, really; I myself was sworn to utter secrecy when I learned. But I just hate to see you looking so sad when there's help to be had."

"What could you possibly tell me that would help?"

Lavender reached out, and with a funny smile on her face, stroked her knuckle across Scorpius's cheek. "Only that nothing is impossible, love. What do you think magic is for?"



*~*~*



Waiting four days until the Ministry party was difficult. Practicing the wand motions and words to the spell Lavender had taught him until he got them absolutely right proved even harder.

But waylaying Deirdre, that bit came easily.

Scorpius kept his eye out during the festivities -- an occasion dedicated to some or other set of workers for their faithful service, celebrated with commemorative medals, terribly boring speeches, and, as Lavender had described, freely flowing alcohol. Though Deirdre and Harry by no means spent their time in each other's company, Harry appeared to watch her by default even as various groups of wizards and witches demanded his attention. Every time Deirdre caught Harry staring at her, Scorpius saw her smile to herself and smooth her robes, tightening the shimmering fabric against her breasts. And every time Deirdre smiled and smoothed her robes, Harry took another swallow of his Firewhiskey.

It would happen tonight; Scorpius was sure of it. That the party was a more or less required event but also such a minor one worked in his favour; no one brought their spouses to such things, apparently. "You'd think the most scandalous assignations would happen at the really large fêtes, like Christmas or Halloween," Lavender had tutted earlier that week at the pub. "But you know, it does put a damper on when the wives and husbands are right there at the tables of canapés."

At last Scorpius witnessed Harry pass by Deirdre and, almost as if in afterthought, murmur a few words in her ear before continuing. She nodded quickly, flushing, and moments later excused herself from her companions with a smug smile on her face.

Deirdre left the room first. Harry didn't appear to see her departure, instead bidding farewell to some of the guests on their way out. But as he almost immediately glanced at his watch after Deirdre passed through the door, Scorpius imagined he had carefully observed her and now would only remain for whatever length of time they had agreed before following.

Scorpius slipped out. He had no illusions anyone watched his exit or schemed to follow him. Deirdre, though, was ridiculously easy to follow, her high heels clacking against the marble as she scurried down a quiet corridor away from the event and at last entered a ladies' room.

Scorpius took a deep breath, and went in after her.

She stood to the side of the ornate lounge, which was decorated with landscapes and silk flowers and a ridiculous set of plush velvet-covered furniture done in a rose hue. The walls were lined with images of herons perching near blooming water flowers, painted in a coordinating deeper rose colour. A few of the birds displayed their plumage, top-knots puffed up while others darted their beady eyes about the room, surveying and guarding.

Either the lights were always soft in the lounge, or Deirdre had dimmed them when she entered. With the scent of perfume hanging in the air over the blush walls and flooring and furniture, it appeared like Scorpius would have imagined a reception room in an exotic bordello.

Humming a little tune to her image in the mirror before her, Deirdre applied her red lipstick with an artful flourish.

When she heard Scorpius's soft footfall on the rose carpeting, she set down the tube of lipstick and whirled around, smiling mischievously and leaning back against the counter with her chest thrust out.

A beat passed.

"Scorpius?" She looked askance at him, but then shifted her gaze to the door beyond him with a worried expression. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry's going to fire you," he said at once. There was no need for pointless preliminaries; they hadn't the time.

"What?" She stumbled slightly, her right hand flying mouth in her shock. "But he -- but we --" She stopped herself at once and flushed, obviously recalling she might not want to blurt out her reason for lingering in the lounge.

Scorpius gave her the small sympathetic smile he had practiced. "It's a sort of test, actually. Do you know how many girls have been let go from your position as a result of the very same situation? If you looked at the files --" He sighed expressively. "It's part of the whole policy of discretion, you see; they sometimes sound people out in a rather unsavoury way, I'm afraid."

Her mouth set in an ugly grimace as she reached over to a bench built against the wall to grab her small evening purse. She quickly righted her robes to a less revealing slant. "Well, he won't fire me, because I'm going to resign at once. That bastard! He really had me going, with all his looks and jokes, and tonight! Acting as if he wanted to--"

"Yes, well; you might be aware, my family runs a small foundation," Scorpius put in with a delicate cough.

"Oh!" Her posture changed at once, and she struggled to assume a more amiable expression.

"There happens to be an opening. It's not been advertised just yet. It's the least I could do for a colleague and a friend." Of course Scorpius considered her neither, but she had no need to know that.

"Truly, you'd put in a word for me, Scorpius?"

He handed her an envelope. "The interview's already been arranged. Tomorrow morning."

She glanced at the envelope holding the information and then met his gaze with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Scorpius. Really. I had no idea --"

"Tomorrow morning, first thing," Scorpius clarified.

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Then I'll leave at once; I've got to pick out a set of robes, and prepare -- thanks again," she called quickly at the door before hurrying away.

Scorpius stumbled over to the counter, bracing his palms on it and breathing deeply. It had worked as he thought it would; negotiating a trumped-up position for Deirdre with his father without revealing why had been tiresome but well worth the results. But now would come the real test of the night.

He glanced to his right and saw the tube of lipstick placed there, still extended. With a shaking hand, he picked it up and applied it as Deirdre had, though with greater care. He hadn't worn cosmetics since he was a small boy and plundered his mother's dressing table; his father had been horrified but his mother laughed and took photographs. Years ago those pretty pots of powder had seemed too tantalizing to resist trying their powers. The colour he smoothed on his lips now felt like a mark of the anticipated magical change, a part of the ritual alteration for which he readied himself.

With the rouge brightening his lips and cheeks (he dabbed on a bit of it and rubbed it along his high cheekbones), he blinked at himself in the mirror. He seemed almost a different creature with the flushes of colour he wore. It calmed him for the now-familiar but still difficult spell -- he raised his wand, mouthed the incantation, and closed his eyes as he felt the transformation work.

The door eased open softly. Scorpius turned to face the entrance.

Harry stepped inside quickly and closed the door behind him, muttering a charm to secure it. Then he saw Scorpius, and the grin spreading on his face faltered. "Where's -- that is, I mean --"

"Harry," Scorpius said, his voice low. He meant the utterance to act as an invitation.

"Er, I just --" Harry pointed at the door, apparently ready to offer an excuse as to why he happened to sneak into (and lock himself in) the ladies' room. Then he froze.

Scorpius had slipped off his robes, leaving him only in his grey trousers and white t-shirt. And against the thin fabric of the t-shirt, his full breasts strained.

Harry took a step forward, eyes trained on Scorpius's chest. "Why do you --" He looked up sharply. "This is some sort of prank, is it?" His green eyes flashed with anger.

"No," Scorpius replied as calmly as he was able.

Harry took another step. "A trick, something a reporter at The Prophet put you up to, then?" His voice shook slightly.

Scorpius swallowed. "Nothing like that, I can assure--"

"What the fuck is this?" Harry interrupted. He stood only an arm's length from Scorpius, and his hands, hanging at his sides, twitched as though they wanted to curl into fists.

Scorpius very nearly bolted. He had never had to deal with a furious Harry Potter before -- at the office, Harry was always so friendly, so charming -- and he had no idea how best to begin. For all his planning to deal with Deirdre and manage the spell, he had counted on his breasts enticing Harry. All of Lavender's arousing stories had built the expectation in him, and he'd only gotten through the nights leading up to the party by fantasizing about Harry's stunned but lustful reaction when he saw Scorpius's transformation. He expected questions and incredulity, to be sure, but he had counted on reaching a positive reaction more quickly than not.

As Scorpius hesitated, he swayed, oddly off-balance from the weight of the breasts. Before he could gather his wits he lurched forward. Feeling panic fire through his nerves, and with no help of catching himself, he fell forward, right into Harry.

"What--" Harry, apparently conditioned at moments of crisis to help and save before all else, moved to catch Scorpius. A heartbeat later, they were pressed chest to chest.

"Christ," Harry whispered. His eyes darted from Scorpius's rouged cheeks to his red lips, and at last his trembling hands gained purchase as he reached up to cup Scorpius's tits.

"Oh!" Scorpius had focused entirely on Harry's possible reaction to his change as he practiced the spell at home. He had not once stopped to consider this: a shock of pleasure and a flush of heat sweeping through him at Harry's exploring strokes.

Harry made an inarticulate noise in the back of his throat and swept his thumb over Scorpius's nipple. Scorpius couldn't help himself; he cried out, pushing into Harry's touch as his nipples hardened against Harry's fingertips.

"Did you have these before?" Harry asked suddenly, and he looked so appealingly confused, so boyishly handsome in his still inebriated bafflement, that Scorpius couldn't resist pressing his mouth against Harry's.

It took only a moment before Harry kissed him back hard, teeth clacking before they righted themselves, sucking on Scorpius's lip and then brushing their lips together to ease the small hurt. And all the while he squeezed Scorpius's tits, tugging at his nipples through the t-shirt until Scorpius moaned helplessly against Harry's mouth.

Scorpius had been kissed many times before. He'd done everything he could think of with his boyfriends at school and even more with the men he met after. And yet he'd never felt as utterly undone as he did now under the attentions of Harry's warm hands and clever fingers.

Harry eased one hand up under Scorpius's t-shirt, making an appreciative sound as Scorpius wriggled to help him push the fabric up and off. The swell of breasts pushing behind them shot sensitivity through every touch to Scorpius's nipples; he whimpered as they rubbed against the scratchy fabric of Harry's robes.

"Ssshh," Harry soothed, edging them toward the wall so Scorpius's back touched the counter. He set his glasses on the counter with a clatter and pulled his robes off impatiently before he stooped and caught Scorpius's right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking the tip of it until Scorpius twisted his fingers in Harry's hair and pulled him off.

"Too much?" Harry grinned and straightened.

"Fucking --" Scorpius yanked him back so they were once again chest to chest, and kissed him until Harry made a sound very like a growl and started to thrust his tongue inside Scorpius's mouth.

The feel of his tits pressed against Harry's shirt, then his t-shirt as Harry fumbled open the buttons and let the garment drop behind him, that much was entirely new. But the feel of his cock stiffening and sending a dull throb through him, that much was familiar and almost reassuring, even though it made Scorpius ache to strip them both immediately so they could be skin to skin.

He had forgotten, though, that his cock was not so familiar to Harry.

"Ah." Harry pulled back a little, laughed weakly. "That's -- something I'm not really --" He didn't move off entirely, but he angled his hips away and cleared his throat.

Scorpius could feel the thread they had woven between them stretching almost to the breaking point. "It doesn't matter," he said quickly, turning to face the counter and mirror and wrapping Harry's arm around his middle.

"If -- if you're sure --" Harry stepped forward.

Scorpius angled his head back, offering his mouth. He didn't have to wait long before Harry kissed him again. Though the position strained Scorpius's neck, he didn't care a bit once Harry had both his hands on his breasts. Harry fondled them gently at first, caressing the soft skin and squeezing the weight of them, but as Scorpius leaned against him with a shuddering sigh he handled them more roughly, pinching the hardened nipples and flicking his fingertips over them as he pressed his erection against Scorpius's arse.

"God, you're --" Harry scraped his teeth along the column of Scorpius's neck, letting one hand move to clutch Scorpius's flank. "Gorgeous," he finished as his other hand stroked Scorpius's left tit and he positioned his hips so his cock pushed against the valley between Scorpius's cheeks.

"Do you -- like them?" Scorpius panted.

"Like them? They're perfect." Harry bit the nape of Scorpius's neck at the same time he slid his hand over Scorpius's arse and squeezed. "You feel amazing," he whispered. "I want to fuck you so much, I --" He broke off. Their eyes met in the mirror.

"So fuck me," Scorpius said. They both breathed hard, frozen in position with Harry's muscular chest pressing against Scorpius's back. "I want you to, please; please, I want you so much."

"I suppose this bit's not so very different," Harry muttered. He placed both hands on Scorpius's hips, at the band of Scorpius's trousers, though he halted his movements there.

"Take yours off," Scorpius suggested, and Harry turned as though in relief to take off his own clothing. Meanwhile Scorpius kicked off his shoes and undid his trousers, nudging them to the side of the floor along with his pants.

"Should I --" Harry skimmed his palm under the swell of Scorpius's arse and then caressed just along the crevice.

"I can if you like," Scorpius suggested at once. He'd pulled a container of salve from his trousers before taking them off entirely; now he picked it up from the small bench against the wall where he'd set it. With a quick smile for Harry, he opened it, trying to tamp down the anxiety that came with the prospect of keeping Harry waiting and hesitating.

"No, it's -- I've done that part," Harry said stiffly.

Scorpius almost blurted out his insistence on doing it himself when Harry added, with a wry grin, "Not so very often, though, actually."

The admission made Scorpius harder; though it wasn't ideal to have to lead Harry through the steps if he rarely had anal sex, it meant they'd be sharing something Harry had done only a few times with others. "It's easy, really, look," and Scorpius coated Harry's fingers with the lubricant and guided them, still keeping his back to Harry's chest as much as he could.

Over his shoulder, he could see Harry look down, and bite his lip in concentration.

"Sorry, it's --" Scorpius began. He couldn't bear to see awkwardness or even growing discomfort from Harry; with a flash of unease, he pressed Harry's free hand back to his tits.

The groan from behind him told him he'd done the right thing; Harry began kneading and squeezing in rhythm with the plunges of first one and then two fingers.

"Oh fuck," Scorpius breathed out, arching his back up for more. "That's, yes, that's it." Though he'd had men play with his nipples before, or sometimes tweaked his own when he brought himself off, it was nothing to this rush of competing sensations -- his arse grasping for every entrance of Harry's fingers, his cock, though completely untouched, bobbing with arousal, and his tits quivering and flushed against Harry's hand.

"You like that?" Harry asked wonderingly. "This part, with --" He pushed a bit harder, faster now, as if experimenting.

"Yes, yes," Scorpius moaned in answer, driving back against those clever fingers as they began to twist with every stroke.

"Fucking hell, I -- now?" Harry asked, breathing hard. "Let me fuck you now?" He held Scorpius's breast, waiting, while he drew his other hand back; Scorpius could feel him trembling.

In answer Scorpius reached back, stroking Harry's prick (only once so they wouldn't have an early end to things, though that one look and touch of Harry's stiff length made him ache for more) before tugging it forward slightly. He turned back fully to bend and spread his legs further.

Harry grunted as he pressed forward, panted as the head of his cock eased in suddenly, gasped as he slid back and forth the first time.

It had been some time since Scorpius had fucked anyone; six months, to be exact. The wait had been worth it, a wait he had never known would end but somehow brought him to this: naked in the locked ladies' at the Ministry, Harry Potter's absolutely gorgeous cock up his arse, and his newly-acquired tits swinging with every snap of Harry's hips.

"Christ, you're so tight," Harry whispered. He cradled Scorpius's right tit in his hand almost lovingly even as he increased the force of his thrusts. "Feels fucking incredible."

"S'good, keep on," Scorpius managed, riding back. Every shove and plunge sent him higher into a haze of increasingly overwhelming sensation; he nearly didn't notice when he felt Harry's left hand move to stroke his hipbone and hover there as though undecided.

Scorpius took a quick breath when he felt the rhythm falter. "It's -- don't worry about that part, I can take care of it."

Harry pressed his lips together, and Scorpius thought for a moment he might say something about how that wasn't exactly fair. But instead he said only, "Yeah, okay, yeah," and fucked forward harder.

Scorpius gathered his cock in his right hand, yanking it as the heat coiled at the base of his spine began to rush upward. He made a small sound as he twisted to reach his left arm back and around Harry's neck.

The sweat dripping off Harry made them slide together; Harry grunted and braced his right foot against the small bench on the wall next to them so he could drive forward faster. The grounding of the position let their lips meet more easily when they strained toward each other, and when Scorpius came, it was with Harry's hot mouth covering his in a messy kiss.

The shudders that worked through Harry's body and sent his cock through a last volley of thrusts felt amazing. The brief languid moments after while Harry softened inside him, with Harry's lips brushing his neck and cheek in a light caress as he murmured something incomprehensible, made Scorpius feel as if he had actually melted. For seconds more, he leaned against Harry, feeling as if he could simply dissolve in a haze of pure pleasure.

The very physical squelch of Harry pulling out of him, though, brought reality rushing back.

They dressed in silence, turned away from each other. If the Firewhiskey Harry had consumed in plenty earlier helped fuel their encounter, its vapours seemed now dissipating (if Harry's serious expression and careful fastening of belts and buttons was anything to go by).

"So," Scorpius said to break the silence. He winced at once at his own voice, though, and regretted speaking when Harry gazed at him evenly.

"About you returning to work on Monday," Harry began.

Dread made Scorpius stumble back on his heel; he recovered as quickly as he was able, his hand on the counter again bracing him. "Obviously I will," he interrupted at once.

"What we just did was --" Harry stopped, his eyes flickering to Scorpius's still full breasts snug under his t-shirt and open robes, to his swollen lips smeared with lipstick -- "Much as I -- as we both, liked it, it makes things between us complicated," he finished gently.

Scorpius tried to push away awareness of the acid churning in his gut, tried to block out the nagging question of exactly how many times Harry had given a speech like this; this was no time to weaken.

"Not really," Scorpius said with deliberate casualness.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't think you understand. Even if I wanted to, again, if anyone were to find out --"

"Who would suspect a thing? You with a man? With me?" Scorpius's words tumbled out of his mouth as his voice gained strength. "People might be suspicious, obviously, if you were seen around with a young woman from your office, observed paying attention to a woman who worked under you. You like women, after all; I don't think that's exactly a secret. But nobody thinks you like men that way, do they?"

Harry let out a choked laugh. "That's -- well." His eyes, though once again covered by his glasses, sparkled with something very like admiration. "But you do know that I'm --" and here Harry held up his hand, the one with the wedding ring on it.

"It doesn't matter," Scorpius said quickly.

"You say that a lot, don't you?" Harry sounded almost fatherly. "I don't know if you mean it quite as much as you think you do--"

"I can take care of it, can take care of myself," Scorpius said hotly.

Harry blinked at him, and suddenly his expression became shrewd. "That -- what you did," and here he gestured at Scorpius's chest, "it's not permanent, is it?"

"It wears off if I don't renew the -- no, it's not permanent," Scorpius said softly.

Suddenly Harry grinned. "Could you -- if we were to, I mean -- could you make them just like that again?" His eyes rested on Scorpius's currently ample chest.

"Exactly like this," Scorpius said, smiling a naughty sort of smile. After all, everyone knew how much Harry Potter liked tits.








*~* the end *~*