mindabbles: (harry over the shoulder look)
[personal profile] mindabbles
Author: [personal profile] mindabbles
Title: Twenty Minutes
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Age Disparity: 51/25
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,300
Summary: It's been two weeks seen he's seen Harry, and him showing up here and now is not helping Scorpius' nerves.
A/N: The brilliant [personal profile] marguerite_26 had the brilliant idea to hold an impromptu fest -- One Plot, Many Pairings, all with fics written with the prompt: Character A and character B are trapped in a small space and unable to get out. They are tired and uncomfortable and a little too close for comfort. All they have is each other and that makes things both better and worse. Here's my contribution. Thank you to [profile] elizassecret for the beta. ♥



Scorpius took a deep breath and smoothed his robes. The rickety door to the Ministry's visitor entrance creaked as he pushed it open. He glanced at his watch. He had fifteen minutes to register his wand and get down to the hearing where his employer's, and therefore his job's, future solvency would be decided.

He was careful not to brush the fine, bottle green wool of his robes against the sides of the filthy, broken-down telephone box. He pressed his finger into the little circle next to the "6" and turned the dial.

"Hold the lift a moment."

The voice sent shivers down Scorpius' spine, shivers that gathered in his stomach in a pool of anticipation and dread. He turned as well as he could in the confined space and allowed himself a split second to take in the tall figure, square-shouldered and lanky, the dark mop of hair, and that brilliant green gaze that went straight to the centre of his chest.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and turned to look at the contraption on the side of the box and placed his finger into the circle next to the number "2." He pressed his body as close as he could to the telephone – away from the door and Harry.

The misdeeds of his forebears, perhaps his karmic legacy to live out, were too numerous to count. In spite of that, or because of it, he really did try to be a good person most of the time, if not a nice person all of the time, and yet things such as Harry showing up now, looking as gorgeous has he had when Scorpius had walked away from him two weeks ago, did seem to happen to him.

"The great Harry Potter doesn't have his own private entrance? That's shocking." Scorpius stared resolutely at the dirty, cracked glass of the back wall of the box.

"I do, actually," Harry said. He stepped inside the telephone box, his hip brushing Scorpius'.

"What are you doing here with the riff-raff then?"

"Not with riff-raff. With you," Harry said.

Damn him. He didn’t seem nervous in the least. Damn him. If he was going to have the gall to make Scorpius' perfectly miserable day even more unpleasant, he should have the good manners to be a little uncomfortable.

"Why are you here? And why now?" Scorpius asked. There was a hint of plaintive whimper in his voice that really wouldn't do. He cleared his throat and sneered. "Surely they have other people to check and see if the lift's working."

"Yes, they do at that."

"You were following me, weren't you?" Scorpius demanded, mimicking father's tone. He finished dialling the number.

"In a manner of speaking," Harry said evenly.

"Good afternoon," said a pleasing voice. "Please state your business at the Ministry for Magic today."

"What did you say?" Scorpius shot at Harry.

"Your father asked me to keep an eye out for you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," said the melodious voice of the welcome witch. "I didn't understand your response. Please state your business at the Ministry this afternoon.”

"Hello Euphemia. It's Harry Potter accompanying Mr. Scorpius Malfoy to the Wizengamot."

"Oh, Mr. Potter. I am so sorry. I didn't recognize your voice." The note of panic was the first indication that Scorpius had that she wasn't a recording. "Here you are, sir," she said, as two silver badges popped out where Muggles might retrieve their coins.

Harry put on the one that said simply, "Harry Potter," and handed Scorpius one that said, "Malfoy – Witness for the Defence."

"Thank you, Euphemia," Harry said, pinning the badge to the lapel of his dark grey robes. He smiled and handed Scorpius his badge. Scorpius glared and snatched it from Harry. He looked away from Harry's eyes as his fingers brushed his palm and Scorpius felt heat flood his pale cheeks.

The telephone box started its alarming slide beneath the street and Scorpius dug his fingernails into his palms. Being forced into small, confined spaces for any length of time was torment to Scorpius; small spaces with very little air circulation and altogether too much Harry Potter were outposts of hell.

"Why are you here?" Scorpius snapped. He tried to turn sharply to face Harry, but only succeeded in banging his elbow against the glass.

“I’m simply doing my duty for the Ministry, Sir,” Euphemia answered coolly, her voice sounding as if she were right behind his left ear – which was impossible, as there was no space at all behind his left ear.

"There. Now you've upset her," Harry said. The bastard smirked and leaned just an inch closer, and Scorpius had the impression of a cat toying with a trapped dragonfly. “I believe he meant me, Euphemia. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

Scorpius thought he heard a happy sigh and then there was a definite murmur of indignation about the nerve of someone questioning Harry Potter.

“Would you at least look at me?” Harry asked, his voice soft. “Really, your father asked me to come along and make sure they weren’t too hard on you. I didn’t see that it could hurt. I’m sorry if I’ve made you more nervous.”

“That does not sound like my father,” Scorpius said. Dad would never imply that he couldn’t manage whatever was sent his way. Especially not to Harry. The walls of the telephone box seemed to be contracting and the temperature had risen several degrees. “And isn’t this taking longer than usual?”

“Well,” Harry said, smiling again and so, so close. Scorpius thought for a moment about banging his head against the side of the telephone box. “His exact words, I believe, were something to the effect of exert your supposed charm to prevent them from browbeating the boy just because he’s my son.”

Right, that did sound like Dad, Scorpius thought, just as the gentle sliding of the telephone box turned to a screech and the thing ground to a halt.

"It's not moving. Why is it not moving?" Scorpius gasped. His heart pounded against his ribcage. "Why has it stopped moving?"

"Please excuse the inconvenience," Euphemia said in a sing-song voice. She sounded like a recording again. "We are working to resolve the motion charm as we speak. It should be mended in approximately twenty minutes. You can ring if you're in need of anything. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you," Harry said. "Would you please inform Minister Shacklebolt that we are delayed?" Harry paused and Scorpius could feel Harry's eyes on him. "And, Euphemia, would you be very kind and see about an atmospheric charm as long we're stuck in here? It is a little close and Mr. Malfoy is looking a touch green."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Euphemia cooed, and Scorpius had no doubt she'd do everything in her power to grant the request.

"Oh, I am too tired for this," Scorpius said, squeezing his temples with his index fingers. He was nervous enough as it was and hadn't slept well for two weeks.

"Scorpius," Harry said softly.

Scorpius inhaled deeply and rubbed his fingers hard into his temples.

"Scorpius."

"What?" Scorpius snapped, his nerves frayed so he was sure they'd come apart.

"I've missed you," Harry said. His hand skimmed tentatively over Scorpius' shoulder and settled, fingers curling around his arm. He pulled gently and Scorpius finally turned so they were face to face.

"Well, that's your fault, isn't it?" Scorpius let the touch seep into his skin, let himself feel the familiar warmth of Harry's hand for just a moment before shrugging it off.

"Most likely," Harry admitted, flexing his fingers as he dropped his hand to his side, brushing Scorpius' chest as it fell. Scorpius closed his eyes at the way the deep, rich-as-honey voice cascaded over his skin and soothed away some of his panic.

"You fucked up," Scorpius said, and he felt the last remnants of his resolve melting as he noticed that Harry looked just as exhausted as he felt.

"Probably." Harry lifted his hand to cup Scorpius' cheek, his thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. "It's been a hell of a two weeks. Some of my worst, and I've had some fairly rotten ones. I am sorry."

"You were an unforgivable idiot." He was slipping back, back under Harry's spell and he just couldn't.

"You had your moments, as well," Harry murmured, making the words sound like an endearment.

The hand slid to Scorpius' throat, long fingers curling heat around him while a broad thumb stroked his jaw. Scorpius tried to cover his gasp with a cough.

"I can't get over you again," whispered Scorpius. The pain of waking up that first morning, and the second, and the third, knowing that Harry wasn't his, knowing he'd lost the best thing in his life was vivid and fresh.

"You won't have to," Harry said, and Scorpius wanted to believe him.

Harry leaned to kiss him, a gentle slide of lips over lips. Breath he'd been missing, starving for, for two weeks, filled his lungs and it would be so easy to close his eyes and pretend nothing else mattered.

"Nothing's different," Scorpius said. He pulled away, eyes darting to Harry's parted, red lips.

Harry slid his hand to Scorpius' wrist and squeezed. "It is," he said, pressing his forehead against Scorpius'. "I know what it's like to wake up without you."

He held Scorpius' face in his hands and tilted his head, hovering as if to kiss him. Scorpius sighed as he parted his lips and closed the distance between them, welcoming the kiss. Harry pressed against him, and Scorpius felt the resentment and hurt and sleepless nights melt away under the sure strokes of Harry's tongue on his.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, kissing Scorpius' cheek then his jaw, then his neck. "I never intended to hurt you."

Scorpius wrapped his arms tight around Harry's waist, dizzy with fatigue and the heat in this tiny fucking box.

"You're a nightmare," he said, lips curving into a smile against Harry's hair as Harry's fingers traced crooked trails down his back. "I'm late for a hearing, we're stuck in the visitor's entrance, we're going to die of asphyxiation, I haven't slept for two weeks, and this is the moment you choose?"

"You haven't slept for two weeks?"

Scorpius started to answer, but his words, his breath were cut off by Harry's mouth on his, body shoving him against the back of the box. Harry seemed to be trying to touch him everywhere at once. He whispered a spell and Scorpius felt a caress of magic and his robes and shirt fell open.

There was a quiet whoosh and cool air wafted across Scorpius' face: courtesy, no doubt, of Euphemia. He felt his wand between his fingers and drew it down Harry's robes, just as he'd taught him. He slid his hand under Harry's shirt and touched the warm skin of his stomach. He pushed at trousers and pants, and so did Harry, and Scorpius lost track of whose clothes were whose as he bared as much skin as he could in the cramped space.

"Harry," he groaned, sliding his hand around Harry's waist, feeling the sharp breaths and quivering muscles.

"Want to feel you," Harry moaned. "We don't have much time."

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to erase two weeks.

Harry's hand moved up Scorpius' thigh, hooking his fingers under Scorpius' knee and pulling Scorpius leg around his waist.

"Ouch, oh fuck," Scorpius gasped as his knee was slammed into the side of the telephone box at the same time as Harry's rolled his hips, pressing their cocks together. "Kiss me," Scorpius groaned. He'd missed, almost more than anything, the feel of Harry's mouth on his skin.

Harry's mouth was on Scorpius' throat. He licked and kissed down Scorpius' neck, over his shoulders, to his chest, each touch of his lips sending shivers of want down Scorpius' spine.

"Yes," Scorpius huffed when Harry sucked a nipple into his mouth. "Touch me," Scorpius gasped and Harry's sure fingers were immediately around his cock, wedged between their bodies.

"I missed the way you feel," said Harry, his voice thick with need. He stroked Scorpius slowly, squeezing just enough that Scorpius had to thrust into his hand, seeking more.

Harry's cock slid hot and hard along the crease in Scorpius' thigh and Scorpius curved his hands over Harry's arse, urging him to move faster, stroke harder. It had to have been twenty minutes, and if Scorpius' luck of late held, this would be the one time that Magical Maintenance mended something on schedule.

He crushed his mouth to Harry's. He wanted to feel his breath, taste his moans, as he came. Their tongues curled together and Harry thrust harder against him. Scorpius growled, "Come on," and Harry rubbed fast over the head of his cock, short, sharp bursts of pleasure that gathered everything he was feeling into one and he came hard into Harry's hand and over his belly. He let his leg fall to the floor, leaning back so he could smooth his hand down Harry's body. He gathered his come as he went and wrapped his slippery hand around Harry's cock.

"Fuck, fuck," Harry gasped, and he threw his head back, banging it against the glass.

"Not so fast," Scorpius said, leaning after Harry and licking his slick lips as he stroked his cock. "Kiss you when you come."

Harry moaned low and long, and Scorpius stroked him harder and faster until Harry's cock pulsed in Scorpius' hand. Scorpius kissed him through it, fierce and desperate, and then tender, as he gently touched Harry's softening cock.

"Bloody hell, Scorpius," Harry said, slumping against the steamy glass wall. Scorpius melted against him and Harry folded his arms around Scorpius' back.

"Hello?" The welcome witch's voice came. "Hello? Is there anything wrong? It's just mended now."

"Not a thing, Euphemia," Harry said, his voice rough. He smoothed Scorpius' hair away from his face, whispered two or three incantations and both of their robes were in order and immaculate. He pressed a kiss to Scorpius' forehead. "Not a thing."

With a whir, the telephone box moved again. Seconds later, Scorpius stepped into the bright atrium, Harry Potter by his side.
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