It could very well be the last of the great weather days ahead and the perfect sort of day to be spent outdoors, testing a newly built broom. Especially with it being the weekend.
There are a few students hanging about the pitch, but none in the air yet, except for Scorpius. His hair is windswept and ruined, his nose and cheeks are red from windburn, and he loves it. He loves flying and having the pitch to himself. Though, he does miss being on a team, the team, too. And it still pricks, thinking about such.
Not enough to ground him, however. Only thing to do that is to see the results from his tests.
Rigel, without a strand of dark hair out of place and all statue-esque, waits for him in the stands, timing each of his sprints across the pitch. His friend has twenty times scrawled on a parchment when Scorpius joins him.
He's handed the scrap as soon as he plops down on the seat beside him.
"35.8 was your best."
Scorpius pushes his goggles down to frown at the parchment. The time is decent, of course. There are worse brooms on the market, after all, and the broom itself handles beautifully, which is just as important as speed.
"Thanks for doing this," he says, looking through the times once more before pocketing the scrap.
35.8. Not bad.
"I was surprised you asked."
Now, Scorpius knows why Rigel comments as much. They haven't spent a lot of time together since the start of the year. Nothing like last, anyway. Mostly because:
"You've been spending a lot of time with Potter..."
It's an opening, Scorpius knows. He knows he ought to tell his friend what he should have told him ages ago. Albus and him may be keeping their relationship a secret, but this is Rigel, his best mate of only Merlin knows how many years, and he should have told him.
So he does. Sweating, if only a little.
"We're dating. Albus and I, we're, uhm - " He tugs nervously at his googles, which still hang about his neck. "We've been dating since the summer."
"I know. Olivia mentioned it," Rigel admits and Scorpius feels equal amounts of guilt and relief. He'd always half-hoped Olivia might let the secret slip and yet he feels bad when it does come from her.
He tugs at his goggles again.
"I should've told you."
"You should have." But, Rigel shoves at his shoulder, grinning, and all is well again? At the very least Scorpius hopes it is. "Why the secret?"
Sighing, he leans back against the stands. "From you? I don't know. From ...everyone? He's not ready to tell his parents yet."
He can sense Rigel raising an eyebrow and giving him a look before he even glances his way. "And you are? Ready to tell yours?"
"No," he admits with a frown. Telling his parents terrifies him, however eager he might seem about doing so. "I don't think I'd ever be ready to tell my parents, but there will always be some excuse not to tell them and - I want them to know."
Beside him, Rigel doesn't nod in understanding or sympathize, he merely stares at the clouds that float past overhead. Finally saying, "Well, if you are supposed to be keeping it a secret, you might want to stop making eyes at him in class."
Scorpius can feel his face heat in embarrassment. Red cheeks and nose and his neck feels as if it's on fire. "I don't make eyes at him in class!"
He doesn't do so purposefully, anyway. He'll admit to glancing at Albus, now and then. But, how could he not? Albus, with his green, intelligent eyes, his fond gaze, and his messy, soft hair that Scorpius never wants to stop running his fingers through. Oh, and his hands. Albus has nice hands. A bit on the ink-stained side but very bewitching. Especially when his boyfriend is trying to get into his robes.
Thinking about Albus' hands is apparently worth a shove to the shoulder though. Because that's what Rigel does, saying, "Oh, you've got a face."
Scorpius nearly pouts and scowls all at once. "I don't have a face!"
Except that he probably does. He might as well be drooling. Albus is very drool-worthy. Eyes, hair, hands.
As though sensing his thoughts again, Rigel stares him down until he squirms. Which is all the more embarrassing and Scorpius thinks flight is the appropriate response.
He knows Rigel brought his own broom, so he doesn't even ask, merely takes off as quick as he can so he doesn't have to hear whatever his friend is about to say.
There are a few students hanging about the pitch, but none in the air yet, except for Scorpius. His hair is windswept and ruined, his nose and cheeks are red from windburn, and he loves it. He loves flying and having the pitch to himself. Though, he does miss being on a team, the team, too. And it still pricks, thinking about such.
Not enough to ground him, however. Only thing to do that is to see the results from his tests.
Rigel, without a strand of dark hair out of place and all statue-esque, waits for him in the stands, timing each of his sprints across the pitch. His friend has twenty times scrawled on a parchment when Scorpius joins him.
He's handed the scrap as soon as he plops down on the seat beside him.
"35.8 was your best."
Scorpius pushes his goggles down to frown at the parchment. The time is decent, of course. There are worse brooms on the market, after all, and the broom itself handles beautifully, which is just as important as speed.
"Thanks for doing this," he says, looking through the times once more before pocketing the scrap.
35.8. Not bad.
"I was surprised you asked."
Now, Scorpius knows why Rigel comments as much. They haven't spent a lot of time together since the start of the year. Nothing like last, anyway. Mostly because:
"You've been spending a lot of time with Potter..."
It's an opening, Scorpius knows. He knows he ought to tell his friend what he should have told him ages ago. Albus and him may be keeping their relationship a secret, but this is Rigel, his best mate of only Merlin knows how many years, and he should have told him.
So he does. Sweating, if only a little.
"We're dating. Albus and I, we're, uhm - " He tugs nervously at his googles, which still hang about his neck. "We've been dating since the summer."
"I know. Olivia mentioned it," Rigel admits and Scorpius feels equal amounts of guilt and relief. He'd always half-hoped Olivia might let the secret slip and yet he feels bad when it does come from her.
He tugs at his goggles again.
"I should've told you."
"You should have." But, Rigel shoves at his shoulder, grinning, and all is well again? At the very least Scorpius hopes it is. "Why the secret?"
Sighing, he leans back against the stands. "From you? I don't know. From ...everyone? He's not ready to tell his parents yet."
He can sense Rigel raising an eyebrow and giving him a look before he even glances his way. "And you are? Ready to tell yours?"
"No," he admits with a frown. Telling his parents terrifies him, however eager he might seem about doing so. "I don't think I'd ever be ready to tell my parents, but there will always be some excuse not to tell them and - I want them to know."
Beside him, Rigel doesn't nod in understanding or sympathize, he merely stares at the clouds that float past overhead. Finally saying, "Well, if you are supposed to be keeping it a secret, you might want to stop making eyes at him in class."
Scorpius can feel his face heat in embarrassment. Red cheeks and nose and his neck feels as if it's on fire. "I don't make eyes at him in class!"
He doesn't do so purposefully, anyway. He'll admit to glancing at Albus, now and then. But, how could he not? Albus, with his green, intelligent eyes, his fond gaze, and his messy, soft hair that Scorpius never wants to stop running his fingers through. Oh, and his hands. Albus has nice hands. A bit on the ink-stained side but very bewitching. Especially when his boyfriend is trying to get into his robes.
Thinking about Albus' hands is apparently worth a shove to the shoulder though. Because that's what Rigel does, saying, "Oh, you've got a face."
Scorpius nearly pouts and scowls all at once. "I don't have a face!"
Except that he probably does. He might as well be drooling. Albus is very drool-worthy. Eyes, hair, hands.
As though sensing his thoughts again, Rigel stares him down until he squirms. Which is all the more embarrassing and Scorpius thinks flight is the appropriate response.
He knows Rigel brought his own broom, so he doesn't even ask, merely takes off as quick as he can so he doesn't have to hear whatever his friend is about to say.
