Fic: Open (Albus/Scorpius), NC-17

[maja-li.livejournal.com]

Title: Open
Author: maja_li
Prompt Number: #64 submitted by son_of_darkness
Kink Showcased: Body contortion by way of bondage
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Albus Severus/Scorpius
Summary: It's not that Scorpius is jealous. Albus just has a lesson to learn.
Warnings: bondage, shades of D/s & dubcon, lighter shades of cbt
Word Count: ~2600
Author's Notes: *dives in under of deadline* Phew! This is what I get for requesting a posting date before they publish the semester performance schedule. *facepalm* It's quite late in the day, but please enjoy nonetheless! GINORMOUS LUFFS AND ADORATION to my beta rattetta for putting up with my flailing and having time at the last possible minute, and also to the incomparable alaerys for being so encouraging and lovely and just generally awesomesauce. Hope you get what were looking for, son_of_darkness!! :)



It all started because of the yoga classes.

Sibyl Trelawney had retired after the fulfillment of her one and only genuine prophecy, and in her absence the position of Hogwarts' Professor of Divination had been taken over by a—relatively—younger wizard, one Coriander Lovett by name (no relation, or so he maintained, to the infamous Missus and her meat pies). He was quite competent in his field, personable, good-looking in a boyish sort of way, and fey almost to the point of parody. None of which would usually have been of any concern to a seventh-year Scorpius Malfoy.

Except that Professor Lovett had, in the course of his self-appointed duty as keeper of the psycho-spiritual health of Hogwarts's students, suddenly decided to start teaching a Friday afternoon yoga class.

And Albus had up and joined it.

"I really don’t understand why you're having such a tantrum," Albus grumped, wiggling his bum into a pair of form-fitting yoga pants. "You were sitting right there when I did the research, you must have seen how much the health benefits grow as your improve your positioning. And if Professor Lovett can't see my positions under baggy clothing, then he can't improve them."

"That's exactly what I'm concerned about," muttered Scorpius, and then louder, so Albus could hear him, "And it definitely doesn't mean that you have to go to class practically naked!"

"Scorpius. You are likely the only person in this entire school who would call long pants, socks, and a Puddlemere United shirt practically naked. And it’s a bit rich, coming from someone who likes to prance around in his obscene Italian Quidditch leathers."

"They're not obscene, they're aerodynamic!" The prancing was probably best not disputed at this point.

"Mm-hm. Of course, dear."

Scorpius's eye twitched.

"Right, then, I'm off!" Albus swung his bag over his shoulder and all but skipped out of the Ravenclaw boys' dorm, his perky little bum…perking for the whole world—including lovely Professor Lovett—to see.

Scorpius groaned and stuffed his head under his pillow.

* * *

That was the first week. The second week, someone spilled pumpkin juice on Albus's precious pants and Scorpius was all to happy to replace them with a loose, soft-waisted pair of slacks; who knew such an ubiquitous beverage would stain so badly? The third week, Albus actually listened when Scorpius pointed out that it would be far more efficient if just he wore his yoga clothes under his day robes instead of coming back to the tower to change (further proof, in Scorpius's opinion, that Albus had been parading around the castle in far too little to begin with). Scorpius began to think that he might be able to weather this new hobby of Albus's after all.

The fourth week, Albus finally managed to drag Scorpius along to yoga with him, and everything went to hell.

"Try to deepen your bend, Albus," murmured Lovett, voice low and intimate beneath the rippling music of the sitar in the corner. He pressed his hands to Albus's hips—practically fondling his bum, Scorpius scowled to himself—and coaxed the young man to stretch out flatter over his curled right leg, the left stretched out long and languorous behind him. "Yes…that's good…"

Then Lovett ran his hands up Albus's back, ostensibly to straighten his spine, but Scorpius didn't miss the way he draped himself all over Albus to correct the positioning of his palms. As if any normal person wouldn't have just gotten up and walked around to reach the other side of someone else's boyfriend.

"You look rather tense, Mister Malfoy," Lovett said, glancing over at Scorpius with what Scorpius just knew was an evil, boyfriend-touching smirk. "The intermediate rajakapotasana is meant to open your hips, not to put stress on them. Have you been repressing some recent emotional discomfort by any chance?"

I'll show you repressed, Scorpius thought viciously, hand twitching for his absent wand as he resisted the urge to demonstrate just how lovely a crater his "emotional discomfort" could make out of the professor. Clearly, something must be done.

* * *

Later on, Albus would vehemently deny that he should have known what Scorpius was up to, given his none-too-subtle and twice-too-sneaky boyfriend's usual way of dealing with problems in their relationship. All he knew was that after weeks of pleading, Scorpius suddenly needed no encouragement to come along to Albus's yoga classes—one of the few places Albus could ogle his boyfriend in peace, without professors swatting him on the head or classmates still cringing discreetly at just how wrong it was to see a Malfoy and a Potter cozying up together. Especially since Scorpius had taken to stealing away to the library at odd hours of the day and night…but then again, that was what Ravenclaws did. If he and Scorpius had started having security issues just because one of them had his nose buried in some fascinating new research project, they would never have gotten anywhere. So Albus ignored it and filled up his time as best he was able, and enjoyed the times when he could have Scorpius all to himself.

Even if yoga was not, apparently, destined to be one of those times; not with Scorpius paying rapt attention to Professor Lovett's explanations and corrections, as though this were a class he'd be taking NEWTs in. Albus sighed and raised his left hand, spreading his legs wide as he strained toward utthita trikonasana. He winced a little as the muscles over his ribs stretched tight, pulled by the twist of his back and the reach of his arm.

Definitely going to be sore there tomorrow. But the knowledge that he was pushing his body to the limits of its flexibility, its fluidity…the chance that Scorpius and see him straining and sweating and holding himself perfectly in position anyway…well. That was a very nice thought indeed.

* * *

It was rather less nice when, the next morning, Albus emerged sore but satisfied from his morning shower to have his head suddenly enveloped in a black hood of cloth, his feet swept out from under him so that he toppled neatly into his attacker's arms. He flailed wildly for a moment, until a Petrificus Totalus snapped his limbs to his sides and Scorpius's voice murmured in his ear.

"Hush, Albus."

Then everything really went dark.

When Albus blinked his way blearily back into consciousness, it was to the hood still over his head and the feel of silk—ties? ribbons?—gliding over his bare skin.

"Scorpius?" There was only a hint of a tremble in his voice. Scorpius had brought him here like this, after all, and Scorpius always had a good reason. That wasn't faith, or trust; that was just sense. "What's going on?"

"You need help." Once again, Scorpius's voice was right beside his ear—but when Albus whipped around to face him, his presence vanished.

" 'Incorrect attempts to perform certain poses are not only unhelpful, but may even contribute to the blockage of certain chakra.' " Now Scorpius was behind him, voice cool and clinical as he quoted. This time, Albus stayed still, kneeling on the padded floor, and was rewarded with a approving caress along his shoulder before Scorpius spoke again.

"I am quite tired of watching that idiot Lovett do you more harm than good. Today you will be practicing yoga under my instruction. Not his." Scorpius didn't bother asking if Albus understood. That, Albus knew, was a given. "Naturally, you will require help at first." The silk continued to move over Albus's body—but this time, it drew his limbs with it, pulling his knees apart, drawing him back by his wrists and elbows and neck until his was bowed backwards over his knees, his face upturned toward the ceiling.

"Ustrasasana," murmured Scorpius. "An easy one to start with, wouldn't you say? And you do look so lovely." Albus sighed happily and relaxed into the pose, as Scorpius's hand trailed up his breastbone and over his throat, where a loop of silk met the hem of the hood. "I wish to see your face, Albus. I am going to remove the hood now, and replace it with a blindfold. Keep your eyes shut, or else this ends here."

It was phrased like a threat, but Albus recognized it as an offering; a way out, in case he truly needed one. And knowing that Scorpius had thought to give him one—he didn't.

Out of the hood, cool air brushed over Albus's face, scented faintly with orange and spice. It smelled good, made heat pool in Albus's belly as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, suddenly hyperaware of the silk stroking over his skin as he waited for Scorpius's touch. It came lightly, the barest whisper of weight across his eyes, a light pressure against the back of his head as Scorpius tied the blindfold shut. And then—

"Ah!" Albus gasped as the stretch in his thighs suddenly intensified, his head no longer facing the ceiling but tilted backwards with the depth of the bow that the ribbons, all unbeknownst, had slowly been drawing him into. "Scorpius…" It sounded less like a question and more like a moan; and Albus could hear the satisfied smile in Scorpius's voice when he answered.

"Oh, Albus. Don't tell me you thought that light little stretch had brought you all the way into the pose? I did say you were going to need help." The flat of his palm glided across Albus's chest, teasing his nipples and making him arch up into the touch. "Yes, that's better. Hold that. Feel your chakra opening…here." He touched his hand to the center of Albus's chest, right over his thundering heart as the ropes continued to pull Albus backwards, loops at his elbows and throat tightening when he tried to resist. His arched back pressed Albus's chest upward against Scorpius's palm, the heat of it seeming to sear him, making his skin tingle, his nipples harden…

"Scorpius!" This time it was a sob, shooting pains in his back and thighs unbearable against the pleasure of Scorpius's touch—and suddenly, the tension in his ropes eased, allowing him to close his legs a little and guiding him back upright, head bowed, hands folded neatly in his lap as he trembled.

"Vajrasana." Scorpius slid his hand up, cupping the back of Albus's neck. "How did that feel, Albus?"

Albus opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a soft groan, deep and helpless and welling up from the bottom of his chest. Scorpius's hand moved to his head, fingers carding soothingly through Albus's hair.

"Mmm…good." The hand slid down Albus's cheek, toying with the edge of his blindfold, thumb tracing of lips plump and reddened from arousal, before Scorpius gently turned Albus's face away from him, looking back over his left shoulder. "A closed pose next, I think. You need to concentrate your energy."

A closed—Scorpius was going to make him go through that again? But it was far, far to late to protest, and the ropes were already snaking over Albus's body again, soft and relentless. They pulled him backwards to crouch on flat feet, the tendons in his ankles straining, legs pressed tightly together from calf to hip. His arms were pulled behind his back, bound firmly at the wrists. Then, Albus whimpered as loops around his triceps torqued his torso inexorably to the left, the lower half of his body held firmly in place until his right arm was hooked over his already-trembling knees.

"Asasana." Scorpius murmured, fingers brushing over the tense cords in Albus's neck. "Very good."

"Scorpius, I—I don't think I like this one—" Albus began, but Scorpius shushed him with a squeeze of his hand around the back of Albus's neck. That didn't help with Albus's shaking, though, and it wasn't just from the stresses of the pose. The muscles in his back and shoulders quaked and strained, fighting helplessly against the ropes. His fingers and toes twitched, his chest rose and fell rapidly, almost hyperventilating with the need to stretch, to move. Around him, the ropes only tightened further, squeezing his thighs together until the pain of his erect cock and swollen balls, trapped between them, made him whimper and sweat. And still, the curl of Scorpius's hand around the back of his neck held Albus still and silent as the pressure built, and built, and built—

"Scorpius," Albus whimpered and, when he was not quieted, again, louder, "Scorpius…Scorpius…"

"Yes," Scorpius breathed, leaning down to rest his hand on Albus's taut, tense abdomen, splayed flat over Albus's bellybutton. "Again—"

"Scorpius!" Albus was crying out loudly now, struggling, every muscle straining against the darkness and the bonds, desperate to move and utterly incapable of doing so. His eyes were wide open behind the blindfold, stinging with unshed salt tears as he screamed himself hoarse—

"SCORPIUS—!"

And the ropes fell away, toppling Albus over onto his side in gasping, boneless heap, cock aching and throbbing, silk draped soft as water over his body. Scorpius allowed him to lie there for a moment, both of them breathing hard, before Albus's bonds began to tighten again. This time, Albus did not protest, but only made a soft, pained noise as the soft silk trailed teasingly between his legs and drew him down into vajrasana once more.

And then further down still, until his shoulder blades were pressed into the floor, arms curled above his head so that his chest was thrust into the air. A soft moan escaped Albus's lips as the ropes coaxed his legs to part, still folded so that his feet curled, soles up, on either side of his hips. Then they coiled around his shoulders and knees…

…and pulled.

"Nngh!" Albus groaned, feeling his joints strain in their sockets, slowly, inexorably drawn in opposite directions by his bonds. "Scorpius, what—ah!" He interrupted himself with a cry as his elbows slid another inch along the ground, pulling his shoulders up even higher.

"Supta vajrasana," Scorpius said quietly, sounding the best pleased yet—and Albus gasped as, suddenly, Scorpius's naked body lay on top of his, skin pressing skin down to the floor with heat and weight and hardness that made Albus tremble.

"Wait," he gasped, trying in vain to lift himself back into a more tolerable position. "Scorpius, stop, I can't…" he trailed off helplessly when Scorpius rolled his hips, sending sparks of pain shooting down the small of Albus's back and sparks of pleasure along his cock.

"You're going to come with me, Albus," he murmured against the shell of Albus's ear, fingertips resting in the hollow of Albus's throat. "And you'll scream when you do."

"Can't." Albus choked on the word. "Hurts…too much…please, please, stop pulling!"

"No." Scorpius smiled, and leaned down to leak the tears off Albus's cheeks where they had finally begun to soak through the blindfold. He thrust against Albus again, rougher and faster, not teasing but taking his pleasure from the slick slide of his cock against Albus's smooth, sweat-slick skin. "Come on…that's it…"

"Guh!" Albus was trembling violently now, every jerk of his hips against Scorpius's dragging a pained sob out of him, a fresh trickle of tears down his face as it increased the pressure on his shoulders and chest and hips. "No more—!"

He got more, Scorpius's hips grinding downward, their motion deeper and more forceful as Albus's cries increased—

And then Scorpius jerked hard, once, twice, and his come flooded out over Albus's cock and balls in a wave of heat that dragged Albus, helpless and shaking and screaming, over the edge with him.

* * *

Needless to say, Albus did not go to Professor Lovett's yoga class anymore (quite to Scorpius's satisfaction). And if neither of them appeared any less healthy for the lack—well. It seemed an acceptable alternative had been found.

-fin-

Comments

[maja-li.livejournal.com]

Thanks for your suggestion--I've tweaked the warnings a bit, and I'm sorry if I freaked you out a bit. :( I'm glad you enjoyed it a little anyway; thanks for taking the time to comment!

[musyc]

Not to worry, I did enjoy the story! :) Just had to re-adjust my expectations of what it was. The warnings tweak is much appreciated, though.