Title: September First Prompt: on a magical mode of transportation Pairing: Albus/Scorpius Warnings/enticements: blowjob, underage
Once the train has been boarded and parents have been waved to (and, in Albus’s case, ignored), the two of them head straight for their compartment. It’s the one that’s always empty because the stuffing has been ripped out of all the seats. That suits them fine: neither of them has any plans to spend the trip to Hogwarts sitting down.
Scorpius does the locking spell while Albus gets his kit off.
“Hands up,” Scorpius instructs, and the sight of Albus’s fingers whitening around the sliver bars of the luggage rack is somehow just as erotic as Albus’s trousers down around his ankles, where they’ll stay in case he needs to yank them up in a hurry, on the off chance that someone manages to barge in.
Scorpius lets his gaze stray to Albus’s cock itself. Fully hard already of course, the smooth head nudging the faint line of reddish brown hair that trails from Albus’s navel to the thicket at his groin. Where Scorpius will soon be playing. His own cock pushes hard against the confinement of his pants, and he palms himself just a little through the expensive fabric.
Then he drops to his knees. Albus hangs on to the luggage rack and Scorpius hangs onto Albus. Scorpius doesn’t know why the train ride is always the worst part for Al, but it is; Albus would jump off again in a heartbeat if he could. But he won’t; not now. Not since Scorpius has found a sure-fire way to stop him.
He lets his lips graze just around the tip of Albus’s foreskin, insinuating his tongue inside the folds so he can lick the smooth head, tasting.
Albus moans above him, shaking with his effort not to thrust. Scorpius brings both hands up to palm the globes of Albus’s sweet arse, steadying himself while he strips back Albus’s foreskin with just his lips with his lips, taking the cockhead inside his mouth.
Albus actually cries out then. And they’re not even out of London yet.
Scorpius lets Albus’s cock slid out of his mouth again until only the tip of the head is resting against Scorpius’s lips. A pulse of precome leaks out, bitter with Albus’s need.
Scorpius grins up at Albus, whose face is flushed and hungry and desperate and shining.
“Suck me,” Albus whimpers.
“We’ve got time,” Scorpius teases. But it’s not a tease, really; he’s got to make this last, after all.
Albus knows it. He hangs his shaggy head and Scorpius sees the moment when he really submits. Just there, in the tremor that goes through him as he gives in to the reality that, much as he hates the Hogwarts Express, he’s going to spend his next three and a half hours on it subjected to the most exquisite and tortuous cocksucking the world has ever known.
Prompt: on a magical mode of transportation
Pairing: Albus/Scorpius
Warnings/enticements: blowjob, underage
Once the train has been boarded and parents have been waved to (and, in Albus’s case, ignored), the two of them head straight for their compartment. It’s the one that’s always empty because the stuffing has been ripped out of all the seats. That suits them fine: neither of them has any plans to spend the trip to Hogwarts sitting down.
Scorpius does the locking spell while Albus gets his kit off.
“Hands up,” Scorpius instructs, and the sight of Albus’s fingers whitening around the sliver bars of the luggage rack is somehow just as erotic as Albus’s trousers down around his ankles, where they’ll stay in case he needs to yank them up in a hurry, on the off chance that someone manages to barge in.
Scorpius lets his gaze stray to Albus’s cock itself. Fully hard already of course, the smooth head nudging the faint line of reddish brown hair that trails from Albus’s navel to the thicket at his groin. Where Scorpius will soon be playing. His own cock pushes hard against the confinement of his pants, and he palms himself just a little through the expensive fabric.
Then he drops to his knees. Albus hangs on to the luggage rack and Scorpius hangs onto Albus.
Scorpius doesn’t know why the train ride is always the worst part for Al, but it is; Albus would jump off again in a heartbeat if he could. But he won’t; not now. Not since Scorpius has found a sure-fire way to stop him.
He lets his lips graze just around the tip of Albus’s foreskin, insinuating his tongue inside the folds so he can lick the smooth head, tasting.
Albus moans above him, shaking with his effort not to thrust. Scorpius brings both hands up to palm the globes of Albus’s sweet arse, steadying himself while he strips back Albus’s foreskin with just his lips with his lips, taking the cockhead inside his mouth.
Albus actually cries out then. And they’re not even out of London yet.
Scorpius lets Albus’s cock slid out of his mouth again until only the tip of the head is resting against Scorpius’s lips. A pulse of precome leaks out, bitter with Albus’s need.
Scorpius grins up at Albus, whose face is flushed and hungry and desperate and shining.
“Suck me,” Albus whimpers.
“We’ve got time,” Scorpius teases. But it’s not a tease, really; he’s got to make this last, after all.
Albus knows it. He hangs his shaggy head and Scorpius sees the moment when he really submits. Just there, in the tremor that goes through him as he gives in to the reality that, much as he hates the Hogwarts Express, he’s going to spend his next three and a half hours on it subjected to the most exquisite and tortuous cocksucking the world has ever known.
Albus Potter isn’t going anywhere.
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