FIVE TIMES KISSED // I'M WEAK
FIVE TIMES KISSED.
he hasn’t seen albus potter in YEARS.
this doesn’t seem to bother albus potter. not a bit. few things seem to bother him, in a way score has never witnessed before. of course, school was ages ago, but still- there are certain characteristics that never change. maybe it’s the alcohol.
that’s another thing- as much time as he and score spent together when they were younger, score can’t recall him drinking anything but watered-down firewhiskey. this is firewhiskey, neat, in a little glass already most of the way gone. it loosens up albus, unlocks the smile score hasn’t realized he’s missed until now.
the music in here is thrumming, beating at a decibel that hurts score’s ears and makes him want to kill louis for forcing him to come out here. stupid fucking club. they have to lean into each other to talk at all, and even then score is unsure what albus is saying to him.
eventually albus presses his lips- kiss one- to the edge of score’s ear before shouting, ’ you wanna go home? ’ what else could he do? he’s just seen his first love for the first time since he graduated in a seedy london club and he’s gorgeous and mysterious and offering to take score home already. score nods a little harder than he should, and albus offers him his arm.
they apparate to albus’s apartment. from the view score can tell he’s in london, right in the slightly uppity section of town. albus squeezes his arm once before releasing it and pecking score on the cheek- kiss two. well, it’s an attempt, really; it lands closer to score’s ear again. albus wobbles towards what score assumes is his kitchen.
albus, above the din of glasses clanking, tells score to make himself at home. not one to overstep his welcome, score perches awkwardly on the edge of albus’s couch. a few seconds later, albus saunters back with two little glasses. apparently the club was not enough for him.
they tap their glasses together and attempt to chat, but they both know they are far too drunk to actually hold a conversation. instead, they rush to finish their firewhiskey (again with the firewhiskey, score wonders briefly, but it’s smoldering and so is albus’s grin, so he forgets about it for a bit) so they can vanish the glasses. albus looks at score expectantly, as if waiting for permission, so score answers him with a soft peck- kiss three- before pulling away and looking at albus.
this time neither waits for a response. albus lunges at score- kiss four- and presses his lips to score’s in a grin. the force topples them both across the couch, albus sprawled across the blond. his hands are tangled in score’s hair immediately, but score is not better- he’s already edged a leg between them and has his hands locked on albus’s ass. it crosses his mind that this has got to be one of the strangest hookups he’s ever had when albus runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. score opens them immediately with a tiny intake of breath, and just like that he tastes twice as much firewhiskey.
albus is everywhere, hands sliding down score’s neck and teeth nipping at his bottom lip and legs straddling his waist. score keeps a hand on his hip while using the other to tug at his hair. albus has score’s shirt almost completely unbuttoned by the time he has the idea to breathe ’ bed! ’
score nods, using albus’s position to pick him up. albus wraps his legs around score’s waist and places a death grip on his shoulders. they bump into a lot of walls before score can find his bedroom.
later on, score couldn’t tell you what the bedspread looked like. he doesn’t know what it smelled like or what the preset alarm sounded like the next morning. all he remembers is the sensation of waking up with albus’s lips on his- kiss five.
